Narrative+(26)+Story-Minae+Kwon

The Story of the Zebra

X-rated; this surely has to be x-rated. Years are passing by like the speed of light, however, no stop is being put to this blasphemous act. Zebras are being killed everyday here in Africa, which is considered as a man’s pride when done so. Another life gone. Being so opposed to this idea myself, my story of this incident haunts even till this day. Could I ever forget this?

Dreading city life back in London, I was amazed by the wonders of Africa which led me to travel there and explore the land. Ecstatic I was, learning about all the cultures of different tribes and people here. Four weeks passed by as I was strolling down the rocky pathway towards my hut, which I had learned to set up rather quickly. Great sounds burst out and startled me as a huge group of people were shouting at a zebra that seemed to care less. Having remembered that zebras were Africa’s most feared and despised animals, I understood why the people were so upset: the poor zebra must have wandered into our village while foraging for food. I was very curious about this, witnessing this event for the first time in my life. Jitters in my stomach, I cautiously walked towards the people and somehow managed to squeeze myself in between the vivacious crowd, inching myself slowly but firmly towards the front of the crowd. Kindled by the strangeness of this action and the loud jeering of the crowd, I eventually ended up at the front of the crowd, closest to the zebra. Life was everywhere, from the plants and trees surrounding the zebra to the rushing sound of the brook where the zebra was steadily drinking water.

Momentarily, I was transfixed in this wonderful moment. Next thing I knew, I was being offered a stick with a pointy point made out of rock on the end. Oh. Perfect. Quiet went the crowd. Right after that, someone was pushing me towards the zebra while all eyes were on me. So, I realized, I was supposed to kill this creature. The thought at first was absurd, however, as I stared back at the angry and pumped up crowd, I had no choice but to do this. Understanding what I had to do, pride got the better of me and without a moments glance, I aimed the arrow at the zebra and shot. Very pleased, the crowd roared with joy as everyone started to part and go their own ways, while the zebra now lying on the ground, lifeless, breathless, motionless, lay there slowly dying. Wounded by this sight, I stood there, feet and hands cold, rooted to the spot, head hanging low.