Okay so I had to write a short story for my Creative Writing class a couple weeks ago. We had to reach inside a bag and pull out two random items and then write a story based on those two items. My items were a Stuffing Bag for Turkey and a stainless steel water bottle. The story isn’t the best because I didn’t do a rough draft, but I decided I wanted to share it anyway 😛 Let me know what you think!
The Boy with the Water Bottle
She had lost tracks of the few days since she had been shipped to hell. From the moment she was put into the cage barely bigger than her body and loaded onto a truck with hundreds of others like her, she had wished she’d never been born. The workers there kicked and threw her around, not caring when her wing lay limp and useless on the side of her body. She watched as her brethren were taken, kicking and screaming, out of the grimy holding room they were kept in. The dirt floor was covered in their own excretions and blood, and a few of the others lay dying and hopeless on the filth. When it was feeding time, the men would come and throw some dried up, rock-like grains at them. However, hunger had driven everyone to savagely attack each and every scrap of the tasteless food, even if it meant the weaker ones wouldn’t get any.
She heard people talking through the other side of wall, something about ‘Thanksgiving’, so she curiously peered through a crack in the wooden wall; what she saw made her little heart drop. Bodies were everywhere. She was looking into another part of the factory, and she could see tens of workers standing around conveyor belts and stuffing slop-looking food into net-like bags before shoving it inside a pink, featherless body. She looked on the floor of the tortuous room to see a wrapper of some sort. It read ‘Stuffing Bag for Turkey’. Queasiness took over her and she had to look away, her small eyes brimming with tears.
Suddenly, she heard the large metal door creak open and she knew it was time. A worker in large boots strode in with a scowl on his face before scanning the crowd, picking the next victim. She subconsciously skittered behind a larger fowl, trying to hide herself from sight. He saw her, and a slight grin spread over his face.
“Thought you could hide, eh?” He said with a gravelly voice before briskly walking in her direction
She began to panic; hiding behind all the others and looking for an escape route. She didn’t want to die, she didn’t want the pain. He approached her quickly, reaching out his big meaty arms to grab her. She attempted to dodge his hands, but he was quick and knew what he was doing. He grabbed her roughly by the neck and legs, causing her to squawk with fright, and walked back out of the room. She could feel the others’ relief for not being chosen, but also their grief for losing yet another.
He took her into the room she was just looking at, letting her know that this was it. It was the end. She was handed off to another worker wearing gloves that sat down and grabbed a handful of the delicate feathers on her back. In one swift movement, they were gone. She cried out in pain and squirmed to be free, wishing he would leave her feathers alone. Again, he ripped out another handful of her feathers. Fueled with adrenalin, she scurried her sharp claws on his knee, digging through the cloth of his pants and pecking his arm. He let out a surprised cry and released her, letting her drop to the cold cement ground. He feet wobbled for a second before she bolted, seeing an open window in the distance.
Only a few yards to go… She pushed herself harder.
A few feet left…
She’s right below the window, but too low to reach it. Arms wrap around her and she’s suddenly hoisted up into the air as a worker catches her. However, he doesn’t realize he just put her directly in front of the window. Skillfully, she places her four-toed foot on the worker’s face and uses all her strength to push off, sending herself flying towards the window. She sailed out the window, knocking it open farther on the way, and landed on the dirt outside. Dazed, she shook her head and stood up before realizing she was still in danger and sprinting for the trees just ahead.
She ran for what seemed like ages; her joints were aching and her feet were sore, but she kept going. She looked back to see the dreadful factory in the distance but slowed her pace, thinking she might die out here in the forest. She stopped and sat down to rest for a moment, closing her weary eyes and willing sleep, or death, to take over. Although, her rest was abruptly interrupted when she heard a strange sound in the distance… It sounded like music, a small tune, only it was manmade. Curiously, she peered through a bush to see a young boy strutting along a path just in front of her with a small sack slung over his shoulder and a black water bottle attached to his belt loop while whistling a farmer’s tune that she knew well from her previous home on a ranch. Her stomach growled and she croaked out a small chirp to maybe get his attention. He stopped whistling and looked around before shrugging, not noticing anything, and continuing on. She cautiously came out of the bush and scurried over to him so she could walk behind him, looking up at the back of his head, nervously hoping he’d notice her.
Without warning he halted, causing her to run into the back of his exposed calves. She shuffled back a little bit, afraid of what me might do as he turned around and looked down with a surprised look on his freckled face. He gasped and quickly got down on his knees in front of her.
“Where did you come from, are you alright?” He questioned gently.
He took in her haggard appearance from the patches of missing feathers that were raw and sore, to her grungy and dirty body. Her eyes held a look of utter helplessness and pain, stronger than he’d ever seen on a living creature. She looked around at the water bottle hanging on his side and took an uneasy step toward him. He smiled and unscrewed the cap of the steel bottle and held it out to her, sloshing some of the fresh water left inside. Eagerly, she dove her small head inside and slurped up some of the cool water. He laughed silently and dug into the sack had had on his shoulder to offer her some of the wild berries he had just finished gathering for his mother at home. She gobbled them up like they were never there and looked for more. He let out a throaty chuckle and stood up, ushering her to come along. He suddenly saw a spark in the turkey’s eyes, looking as if there hadn’t been one in ages.
Without hesitation, she followed at his side down the dirt road, praying to god that her feathered friends would be okay, and knowing she would be as long as she was with the boy with the water bottle.