A Short Story

Based on a true story.



It is dim and so cold. We are all crowded together, touching, no room to move around. There are voices all around me. I can hear the questions: what was going to happen to us, who would be first. No one asked me anything; I am old and sick, weak and tired. When the man comes, I will be able to do nothing but go with him.

As if to answer my thoughts, the heavy door swings open and I can see his silhouette outlined by the light that was suddenly flooding the room. It is time. The man takes us unceremoniously out of the locker and carts us into the bright room next to it.

The voices are louder and more harsh to me. They aren’t the scared. Hushed murmurs of my comrades; no, these are the voices of the vicious.

Knives flash in the light and I can see the bodies of my fallen comrades all over the tables and floors. I turn away; it is too hard to see. My fellow captives are silent as the grave as they too look out on the scene before us.

The man takes us to the water. Cold, hard water. One by one he tosses us in, caring little for the splashing he makes. I hear one of the Knife-Wielders laugh loudly, the sound turning my insides, making me feel even more sick than I am. They will not want me, but they have no way of knowing that yet.

I too get tossed into the water and weakly bob for a moment, before I am taken out again and carted over to the table.

The cutting table.

I am set beside a girl with a long sharp knife. She absently picks up my neighbor and hacks right into him. Or her. Our condition was so bad that I cannot even tell.

Looking down, the girl reaches for me and drags me in front of her. She eyes me a little uncertainly. Maybe she can see how sickly I am and will just let me die naturally with dignity. She raises her knife over me and brings it down. Here it is.

I refuse to go out without taking a casualty with me.



Kyrie hit the melon with a thwack and knew immediately that she should have just tossed it. Then it exhaled.

“Aw, sick. Aw, sick. Sick!”

The smell was awful and the juices sprayed on her face.

All over her. All over her clothes. All in her hair.

Fermented cantaloupe.