Gavin G. & Milan Q.

Topic: Animal abuse at circuses

I woke up to the beautiful trees, the perfect breeze, and the shining sun. Today couldn't be any better because it was my birthday. I walked downstairs to the smell of oatmeal and the sight of presents on the table. Both of my parents were already awake, and they greeted me with a warming hug. After I had breakfast and opened all my gifts, we went to pick up my friend. It was a long car ride to the circus, but even that was a good thing because we got to play on my new Nintendo Switch even longer!

At the circus, it smelled like buttered popcorn. It was crowded, but I didn't care. I loved this place. Almost as soon as we got there, we both had the same idea: the snack bar. One of my presents was fifty bucks to spend at the snack bar. My friend and I kept eating and eating until we got stuffed. I started to feel nauseated. I told my parents we were going to the bathroom, but my friend and I actually went behind the circus tent and let it all out. When we were finished vomiting, we started to head back, and what we saw was practically traumatizing. We saw a guy beating a horse that had just come from the show. My friend and I looked at each other for a second and then glanced back. We yelled at the man to stop and quickly ran towards the animal. The man dropped the whip, and we unstrapped the horse. The animal was free, but it looked like it didn't know what to do, and at that point neither did we. Until finally, the animal ran away.

***

I woke up in a hot sweaty trailer and I could barely breathe, but that's what I'm used to. I've heard of animals dying of dehydration in here, and honestly, I'm surprised I haven't yet. We used to think that getting picked to be in the circus was the highest honor. We would become famous and do amazing things. But it’s all an illusion. None of that is true. I HATE this life. I'm constantly being physically punished with hooks and whips, carried from place to place in these horrible trailers, and I haven't seen my family in years. One mistake causes me so much pain. I wish I could escape, but I have a show to do, and I have no other choice.

The show today was hard, and at one point there was a man standing while I was running. Then, I fell. The crowd went quiet but quickly got louder as the man said he was OK. I was ushered out of the tent into the back.

I was strapped down, and I was ready for the punishment. This time it hurt more than ever, because this time was different: this time I was thinking of my family. This time I was thinking of my old life. This time, this was the last I could take... but then there was shouting. The whipping stopped and my straps were removed. I assumed that I was going to be put in another cage, but that was it. There was nothing. No hands grabbing me, no straps, no cage. I thought I was dead. Then I realized that I wasn't dead. There was still the noise of the leaving crowd and the smell of old popcorn. I wasn't dead, I was free.

I didn't know what to do, so I ran and I ran. There was shouting and screaming, but I didn't care. I kept running. It wasn't long until I realized that it didn't matter how fast I ran. This was the end for me. There wasn't anything I could do; they were going to kill me. So I ran home. I ran to where I was raised because that is where I wanted to die. I smelled the familiar smell of home, the flowers and grass, and the big oak tree off in the distance. So I sat and cried. Then the sound of sirens, and that was it.