The Hunted

I saw her there in the icy rain, it was cold and she was scared.
Her mother had been shot and killed, bleeding out next to the child.
I could tell by the way she was staring, she could no longer see.

I ran through the war zone, into the firing, without bullets, they were now using clubs, the butts of their guns, machetes, anything to finish off the survivors. God, I thought, shes only around 3 years old.
But a man was approaching, he was going to end her. Now. She wasnt a living being to him. Genocide.

I ran towards her, and she looked at me, hunted and haunted. I was too late. Her blood washed over me as her skull was cracked open, she fell over dead, eyes now like her mothers.
I was in shock. She died in front of me. There’s one more kid who will never know what it would be like to live on this planet. All because she was different from the killers.

The man that cracked her skull open and ended her life stared at me with wild eyes and rage on his lips “What?” he shouted at me, ” What the hell is wrong with you?! She was only a seal.”
By Marla Patty

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