Bloody Feathers

by Cruz

Driving through the cane fields looking ahead as if I could see through the thick layer of scattered smoke being created from the dry dirt. Feeling every bump and thump in the road as we drove past stranded cars that wouldn’t make it to the destination, which I, myself, was not aware of. I asked where we were going, but I couldn’t get an answer out of my dad or my brother Jordan. Dad always told me not to worry. He believes that everything is easier on everyone if people worry less.

After an hour of driving, we find ourselves at an open area with a large crowd of people, as if something exciting has been going on. I step out of the car with my brother as he holds me close. I look around, and I see a large crowd of men in the form of a circle cheering with excitement.

“Watch your brother”, Dad says to Jordan.

The sound of the crowd shouting made it hard to know what was going on. Me and Jordan then decided to get a better look. His hand squeezed mine so tight that my fingers turned numb within a few seconds. We made our way around the crowd to see the excitement. All of a sudden, Jordan stopped walking, he was looking towards the crowd with a face that I was uncertain of. Being too short to see anything, I began yanking on Jordan to lift me up and show me. After pulling on his clothes for quite a while, he then gave in and decided to show me. He got down on his knee, looked me in the eyes, and made me promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone what I was about to see. He grabbed me by the arms and put me on his shoulders. Lifting my head up slowly, I see it with my own eyes.

Chickens with knives tied to their legs, kicking each other vigorously. Sharp knives piercing their skin effortlessly. Blood squirting into the crowd as feathers stuck onto it when it hit the ground. People throwing money into the ring as if they were paying to watch chickens kill each other. The bird with silver feathers, left with just half of its body, was thrown into a trash bag, and launched into the cane fields. I then found myself with the same look that Jordan had on his face. A look, that is indescribable.

Red and blue lights began to flash, sirens filled my small ears with panic. Jordan grabbed me and headed to the truck. He threw me in the back seat and sat down in the front. He told me that we had to stay there till dad got back. We sat in silence for a bit as all the commotion was happening outside. We waited and waited. I couldn’t help but think about what I saw back there. A tear rolled out of my right eye and down into my mouth. The taste was unpleasant. Bitter and salty, as if it was what sadness tasted like. Jordan tried to comfort me by talking about other things or playing music, but nothing could get that out of my head. I heard a knock on the back window, then the driver’s door open. Dad had finally come back. I knew that he was worried sick about us when he had his mean look on his face. But I knew he was relieved to find us safe and sound.

“Let’s go home and never talk about this again. And don’t tell mom!” said dad. “Sound good, boys!?” he implied.

“Yes, dad,” we said politely. We drove off, back onto the dirt road to make our way out of the cane fields. While driving off into the dirt and dust, I swore to myself that I would never go back to the cane fields EVER again.

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