Full video to incident: Tyke Elephant Outlaw
I wrote this short story in 2019 when I started getting into animal rights. I saw a news report about an elephant, Tyke, that had escaped a zoo after years of abuse, only to be shot. I was inspired and submitted this story to FOBISIA short story competition of that year, and placed first in my year group. The structuring and story-telling was still quite off though, I’d like to share this as part of my journey pushing for animal justice.
The spotlight, shining red and blue, spun and rolled across the stage. I shrank under the bright, fluorescent light and self-consciously shivered. The dried grey paint and colourful sparkles, covering the white scars, stuck to my skin more tightly than was comfortable. I padded up to the stage, step by step, following my trainer. The ridiculous red hat placed on my head blocked my vision, and I fought the urge to shake it off. The fabric, matching its colour with the hat, shifted uneasily on my back. The bells tied to the fabric twinkled cheerily, in complete contrast with my emotions. I knew that no matter how many times over how many years I stepped on this same stage, I could never shake this feeling of dread and disgust from my mind. The whole area buzzed with busy machines and smelt like grease. I twitched involuntarily, knees buckling slightly beneath me as my trainer grabbed the rope tied to my trunk tightly. He glanced back at me, eyes glowing ice blue, showing a display of brilliant white teeth as he grinned. A grin that I despised.
“Do what you’re supposed to do,” He leaned forward, foul breath tickling my ear. “And you won’t die.”
He stroked my head softly, a disguise to fool the audience. I jerked, taking a step back, a metal stick pressed against my flank. A warning to be obeyed. He straightened up, turning around to face the crowd. He opened his arms wide, smiling broadly. The audience cheered and clapped, the lights surrounding the stage darkening. The show had started.
It had been eleven years since I left home. My home, with a field of emerald, sprinkled with little flowers of white, yellow and purple, was breathtaking. Towering trees were scattered across the field with its lush green leaves and long branches swaying in the soft breeze. Warm rays of the sun shone on each blade of grass, covering each corner. Birds chirped, and insects hummed and buzzed. It was a paradise. It was Heaven. When they took me, I was cut off from all the world I’ve ever known. It was nauseating. I was locked in a cage and travelled for days in an unhygienic boxcar along with other elephants, who were also, like I was, captured and stolen from their native lands. Daily, we were in chains for long periods of time. We were fed with old hay and contaminated water. Rats scurried around in the dark, gnawing at our feet and tails at night. We were beaten for the slightest disobedience and mistake, with whips, with bullhooks, with electric pads. Our lives were at risk-all for entertainment. The training was even worse. We were forced to step on stools that were too small for our feet. We were taught to lift our hind legs and balance on our front two feet. We learnt to follow orders no matter what. There had been a tiger who was injured heavily- crippled, I’ve been told- when he caused chaos in the middle of a performance. Others had said that he snapped under the pressure. I understood; I was gradually losing my sanity in this circus. We all were, in a way. I was losing my grip on the real world, and slowly slipping into a dream. I wanted to go home so badly I could barely think rationally. All I could think about home. And with that realization, I decided to run away.
The chains confining me struggled against my legs as I walked. My trainer kept walking, his rough, calloused hands tight around my trunk. I shook out my ears. Just one last time. I blinked, still unaccustomed to the vividly twisting and bending lights ahead of me. One last time, then you’re free. My trainer took out a rusty key, too familiar to my eyes, and unlocked the heavy iron chains, worn out by time and filth. One. Last. Time. His grip on me tightened as I stepped easily out of the metal bonds. I swung my head forward and met the eyes of my trainer steadily.
“You better perform well,” He sneered at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Elephant.”
I laughed. A snorting grunt. His comments didn’t bother me anymore; I was going home. I was leaving this place for good. He slapped my neck and forced me forward with his bullhook. I strolled forward. Nothing could harm me now.
The stinging pain of the bullhook’s end sharpened my senses. I reared up, front legs flailing, as I trumpeted in anguish and sent a wave of terror through the crowd. I smiled in spite of myself with the image of my trainer, terrified, falling to the floor, hands scrambling for the fallen bullhook, engraving itself on my mind. I charged towards the audience, knocking over countless lights and stands, as I rushed out to meet the fresh air. I was finally going home.
The image of my home, with flowers and trees and insects, was embedded clearly in my mind. I barrelled forward blindly, crashing over cars and shops. The shouting behind me became muffled as the warm breeze of home embraced me. I could hear the insects humming and the birds singing their songs. I could-just barely-feel the coolness of the river radiating off from a far distance. But multiple gunshots sounded behind me. I jerked and twitched as pain shot through my body. The realization of it came slow and late, but its message was clear: I had been shot. My legs crumpled beneath me, my body following with a loud thump, falling limp and weak. I was so near, and yet so far. I raised my head, scarlet spotting my sight, as the vision of my home became clearer and clearer. I was slowly slipping away from the world. This was the finale. The ending chapter. The finish. My vision blurred, and everything went black.
