Dead by Noon

Prompt: "You're living in dread of tomorrow. Write about why" This story was written in 40 minutes for Power of the Pen and remains unedited

“Why? Why?” My voice cracked and broke as I struggled to understand the full injustice of the information my mother had laid out before me.

“That’s just the way it works.” My mother’s big brown eyes were filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Oh, Speckles, darling, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Explain it to me again,” I demanded. My mother sighed.

“You know the farmer milks me every day. He keeps me because I can give him milk, which he can sell. But sometimes when I have a calf he doesn’t need, he kills them for meat. And” - her voice faltered - “this year he doesn’t need you…”

“But I’m not even a year old yet!” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. “I want to live! I want to play and love you and grow up and… Oh, Mama, I don’t want to die!”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know.” She laid her head comfortingly on my back. “You know I’d do anything in a heartbeat if I could.”

“And they - I - it happens tomorrow?”

She looked at me, eyes wide and mournful, grief-stricken. “It happens tomorrow.”

***

I spent the day in the pasture, doing all the things I normally loved. But none of them seemed to make me happy. When you know you’ll die tomorrow, an iron fear grips your stomach and you can’t swallow, nor hardly breathe right. I was living today in dread of tomorrow, when I’d die, when my body would be chopped up, cooked, and roasted. It was a very unpleasant feeling, but I couldn’t shake it.

At one point, my stomach was feeling so twisted up in knots that I couldn’t stand. I fell to the ground and finally let the dread and fear and grief overwhelm me. I wanted to have a happy day today, wanted to be glad and not so terrified and angry that I wanted to scream. But there was something about knowing I’d be dead in twenty-four hours that made it so I couldn’t even feel an ounce of happiness. I’d be dead by noon tomorrow, and for what? So my body could be chopped and mutilated so well-fed people could have a special treat at dinner one night. It wasn’t fair! And I was terrified.

I lay there, crying, for hours, my stomach hurting - an endless pit of dread. As the moon rose high in the sky, I bowed my head and silently fell asleep. With all my soul, I was dreading tomorrow.

Reviews

[matrixmark]

I so love the flow of your work. Your dialogue skills are really highly polished. A very different piece for sure and it kind of does tug on your heatstrings in a funny way. Again, your grammar skills are spot on. I couldnt find anything wrong. I like stories when they are different and this was just that - different, but like i say before: it was a little moving. But thats because of the writing craft you have, it involves the reader and its flows from one sentence to the next.

Good work.

Mark.