Fry, The Seventeenth

I like being underground, it’s where I belong. My creations can surface, maybe, if I’m lucky, but not me… Leave me in the shallow earth.

But you didn’t, you cruel heartless peasant. You grabbed me by my hair, and tugged, and when that wasn’t good enough, you cut me off my roots, destroyed my land, and ripped me away of all that I’d ever known. You don’t understand it, but humidity and darkness, are life for me. I don’t want the light you show me, or the World you live in.

As your truck pulled away, I looked back at my home, but recognised nothing.

For days, I went from one place to another, seeing faces, hearing voices, feeling worthless. Being passed from hand to truck, and then hidden into darkness once again.

Endless time passed, and the skies opened up… I’d never seen such a pristine place in all my life! Windows all the way to the ceiling, and the decor, was all stainless. Music was pumping; a nearly hypnotic rhythm that vibrated all surfaces.

I was thrown out of my temporary shelter and fell onto a cold wet surface. I wasn’t alone, there was more of us, many of us… Some screamed, some were laughing and feeling relieved. I was disorientated, until she grabbed me.

She pointed a knife at my gut. I screamed, and closed my eyes. She dug into me, peeling my skin off, and digging into my flesh. She cared for nothing, she showed no remorse.

Before I had a chance to react, she chucked me into a pool of water… There was a faint whistle, followed by a gush of air. And I was in pieces. Literally. Naked, and in pieces, and close to freezing.

What else could they do to me?!

Well… They could fry me and serve me to the obese culture that has no idea what I look like if I’m not covered in ketchup and oil.

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