On The Verge Of Extinction

It was just another day, in my 15-day-old life. I used my prehensile lip to grasp grass stems, bite off the top, and eat the grass. The sun went down, as I wandered, alone. I enjoy my solitude. I like talking to myself, and bleating at the trees, who reply to me with the rumbling sound of their leaves.

I gazed at the leafy sky and tried to join the scintillating dots to form a face I knew and missed the most. The serene sky reminded me of my mother, her patient and tender eyes. She had been hunted down by some two-legged creatures whose scent I had never before smelt. I still remember hearing rubber move on the ground and a large metallic vehicle stop. When those creatures spotted my mother, two pulled out, what looked like long sticks. One screeched and was soon joined by more of his type. Five surrounded my mother with a net, a few of them were holding those sticks. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three of them shot her one-by-one, and left behind an eerie silence.

I can never forget their fiery, murderous eyes and my mothers helpless, pleading ones. She asked me to run and hide. Those were her last words to me…

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