All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Iron Bars
A dirty, crusted truck slowly pulls up to the back of an even crustier and dirtier building. Inside of this truck, sat around twenty small cages. In each of these cages sat pairs of tired, gloomy eyes as they hear the slow humming of the truck’s engine coming to a stop. Suddenly the back lift gate opens blinding everything with rays of light. One of these people whimpers, though, he is not a person at all. He is a dog, a beagle to be exact, and a big one at that. His cage, however, is quite too small for him, leaving his body aching and giving him no space at all to move. The cage has never been cleaned once, making his mangled hair even more roughed up and dirty than before. He spends most of his time staring at the wall, hearing the barks, growls, and whimpering of his companions, staring through the iron bars wondering if there was anything else to life. The loud and painful rumbles of his stomach usually made him forget about these thoughts and made him think about food. He was lucky if he even got scraps, let alone a can of dog food. Days were long and boring, and were always painful since these people didn’t even bother getting him a new collar, leaving him to choke on his old one frequently. Most days lay whimpering with sad eyes hoping someday he could get out of this horrid place.
Then the lift gate opened.
There stood two younger looking men holding batons and whips. One of them yelled, “Alright doggies, it’s selling time!”
The beagle watched as the men started pulling out the other dogs by their collars and beating them with the batons to get into much larger cage. One by one, the beagle watched as each of his companions were beat and stuffed into the cage. He crouched in front of the iron bars and knew that this was his last chance of living a free life. As soon as the cage opened, he rushed away fast enough to not get grabbed and hopped out of the back of the truck. After about ten minutes he stopped running, pausing to catch his breath, and to see his life now. He was now free, free of his life of suffering, free of the iron bars.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.