The Moment of Peace

It feels as if I’ve been in here for years, seeing days pass without knowing exactly when I can touch the grass again. Cold damp cement makes my whole body shiver as I lay freezing on the ground. The feeling of filth beneath my feet makes me quiver, like there is a layer of someone else's memories trapped beneath the floor. A heavy chain drapes from my neck, holding my weak head to the ground and makes small marks in my skin. I never have enough energy to stand, I never have since I first arrived here. How much longer will they keep me trapped behind these bars? How much longer will the darkness creep into my mind, forcing evil in? Endless thoughts plague me, hoping one day I’ll find an answer. 

The empty sounds of my cage radiate around as the only things I hear are the dripping water of a leaky pipe and the cold echoes of another prisoner beside me. We’ve never tried to introduce ourselves, but we know the other is there, we can feel each other, hear one another and smell the repulsive scent of each other's excrement. Some days I can feel my caged partner’s pain rather than my own, hearing the shifting of their chain around their neck rather than feeling my own. It makes me feel a little less alone hearing them.

Some days I wonder for hours if this cage was made for me because of what I did when I was not in it. I try not to think of the outside, try not to hope too badly that there was some way of getting out. When I first got here, all I did each day was look out my small window to the sky above. But the window’s too high up to see what's around me. Just the sky and the sun taunt me through the window, asking me to join the morning light in the evening heat, wondering why I don’t run anymore. Hope plagues me too, slowly filling my mind like a poison I can’t stop. It’s the only thing I can think of when I’m not thinking of when I will die.

There is a pattern of sounds that I’m sure my caged partner has memorized and trained as a kind of alarm. Starting with the sound of metal on metal, a key turning in it’s lock, then heavy footsteps on the damp floor, the sound of the shadowed man sighing or grunting or whistling based on his mood. I wonder sometimes what he does when he’s not here, where he goes. Is there an upstairs that we cannot see? More cages somewhere? He switches out the buckets strapped to the side of our cages, replacing the empty ones with a new slop of food. As he approaches I can feel the grimy taste of the slop on my tongue, the disgusting texture of a food supplement and something else I can’t determine. I stop myself from missing real food, knowing I may never taste the fine texture of meat ever again. 

He comes once a day. Holding the pail with no interest in my existence. Sometimes I raise my head to look at him, holding eye contact in a desperate plea, hoping he might have a heart big enough to end this. But each time he avoids looking my way. One time my caged partner called out when he was here, it was early in their time here, and I couldn’t imagine what they thought it would do. The man poured half of their food on the floor just outside the cage and gave them much less than they needed. I never thought of moving again when he’s here, never hoping he could save us. 

The pattern of daily sounds returns, starting as usual with the scratching sound of the key, but as I hear the clang echo through the cold halls, I can feel it. Something different, something new. He missed the keyhole, scraped the key against the lock before opening it. I raise my head quickly and move to the front of the cage slowly, feeling the weight of my body stand after so long. My head perks up, hearing light footsteps make their way towards us. It’s not him, I can hear it right away, it's not the shadowed man. 

I flinch back in fear as a young boy comes into perspective. He peeks into my cage, locking eyes with me. He’s scared, the scent of fear radiates off of him like a morning rainstorm. He wears a light green shirt with symbols I can’t understand on it. In slow, calculated movement, he approaches my cage and for a moment, a small smile appears on his face. 

He moves like he’s never been more nervous in his life, his hands shaking to open the door. A large ring of keys are grasped in his small hands, shivering in the cold. The loud creak of the metal cage door sounds throughout the halls. I stand there, breathless and scared, looking face to face with the boy. I look to the chain, connecting me to the wall and the boy nods, swiftly unlocking my collar from around my neck. He pats my head, and swiftly moves to my partner's cage, scraping the metal door on the ground, making my ears ring. But I stop, pausing for a second and looking out. A wall of bars, holding me captive for so long, is open. The frame of the door that I’ve memorized sits waiting for me to walk through and without a second thought, I begin to run.

The concrete scratches my feet, making me slip, but I can’t feel it because all I want to feel is the sun, the air and the grass. I run through the hallway door, through an even longer path, up a slope and stop at an open door, sitting propped like it was meant for me to run through. Just beyond a fence, a grassy field lays in wait for me. I sprint, launching myself at the fence, and slowly make my way over it. My weak body lands with a thud in the dirt as I land. I can feel the pain on my side urch into my throat and make me dizzy. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters because I’m right there, one the grass, in the dirt.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The scent of the grass fills my nose, the feeling of fresh air swirls around me and brings me into every fantasy of hope I forged while I was trapped. Standing, I touch the grass beneath my feet and look out into the clouds above. Nothing in my life has ever felt more beautiful, more peaceful than this moment, feeling the sun. I dream for a moment, seeing a world in which I once lived. Endless fields, waiting for me to rest in and bubbling streams for me to drink from. I feel the swell of hope warm my chest, coating me in ease for just a second. But just as that second’s over, something wraps around my neck.

The young boy chokes me, making me gag with a wire on a stick. He pulls me closer to him, guiding me to a large van. I call out, crying, tearing at the grounds to let him release me, but he yanks too hard on my bruised neck, making me whine in pain. A cage, smaller than the one inside, waits for me in the van. I can see my partner, already trapped within one. I can’t see much of anything, but for a split second I can see one word written on the side of the van. I read a word I feared for my whole life, knowing it was a cursed place. My fur stands on end, my ears drop as I replay the word in my mind. “Zoo”.