The Matador
May Hodgkinson
What’s happening to me? Ever since they locked me up I haven't known. They have fed me, but kept me in my rusting cage. Until now. They drag me out of my cage into a room, a dusty, small room. I can hear a loud commotion outside. The rumbling of the ground makes my knees shake, and the shouting makes me flinch and cower backwards. The gate opens and I am momentarily blinded from the sun; the crowd roars and I see a lone man. My whole body is shaking violently, I don't understand.
Why the arena, why the shenanigans, why the sword? Suddenly all the pieces start coming together in my brain. I remember the stories now, about dad, grandad. It was always going to be my fate, my doom. I panick. I feel weak. I am going to die. I see the matador charge. These are my last moments alive, my last few breaths. I feel sudden pain. I see him. The glory in his eyes. He's won. I’ve lost. I remember my family. I should have been better. My lungs start to fail me, and my breathing slows to a stop.
Is this the fate for my baby brother as well?