My name is Ori. I’m a rabbit – a European rabbit to be exact. I’m a young buck, with black fur and long wiggly ears.  I lived on a nice farm, you see, where my owners were super duper nice people. They all loved me – the brother, the two sisters, the mother, and the grandparents. Well, everyone except the father. He didn’t like me much, I think. Anyway, I grew up there with my own two brothers and three sisters. We would play outside or chase my brothers and sisters in the grass. I loved that. We would also munch on carrots or leaves and stuff. I would always crack jokes with my siblings because I was the funny one, you see.

But then, one day, I remember the date, too, on Christmas Eve, the mean father put all of us in a cage and sold us to some man. I can’t remember what the man looked like but I just remembered he had the saddest eyes even if he was always smiling oddly. After that day, I never saw that family again.

After being sold away, I remember, for a couple of days, me and my siblings were super scared. We didn’t know what to do or how to escape. We were just put in a dark room with all types of weird things like leathery women outfits, long heels, a camera recorder, and a spot on the floor that was dry brown-red. I didn’t know what this place was until our new owner walked into the room with a sickly face and a sickly smile, followed by two women wearing those weird leather outfits. I watched them walked over to us, open our cage and reach out with open hands. Scared, we just stood still and tucked in our ears, hoping they wouldn’t get to us. I watched as they picked up my youngest brother and my youngest sister and brought them out of their cage before setting them down on the floor gently. I then looked at the sickly owner as he started up his camera device and aimed at the women’s feet and my siblings exclusively. That’s when, in horror, I watched as the women lifted up their long heels over my siblings.


I screamed and hollered with small, rabbit tears falling down my eyes. Their bodies went limp, their eyes turned hollow, and the blood of their wounds pooled beneath them while my eyes poured a river.

The following day, we returned to feeling the fear but this time with anger and confusion bubbling inside us toxically. Why was this happening us? Was that our purpose – to be crushed? Was the happy family a cruel illusion to soften the reality of our existence? These questions orbited my head like a planet as I watched, one by one, my remaining brothers’ and sisters’ souls ascended to the stars when they were crushed in front of my eyes while I pressed against the glass, screaming, but I might as well have been in the vacuum of space.

When the torturous wait from my turn came to an end, I felt naught but numbness and a stillness of warm blood in my small body. I didn’t think to run – my legs wouldn’t work. I didn’t think to scream – my voice was dumb and would fall on deaf ears. They sat me on the floor and I watched the woman lift her heel slowly while the sickly man giggled behind his camera.

All I could think of in my final moments: What did I do to you? Whom do you care for that I hurt? Why are you doing this to me? Why?



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