My old trainer died last week.
And I killed my new one yesterday.
He kept prodding me behind my ear, exactly where my tooth hurt. He did it one too many times. The pain pierced through me like a spear and I just flipped. I threw him to the ground with my trunk and stepped on his head.
They locked me in a rail car after that. And today they’ve brought me to a nearby town by train. On another railway track, on the other side of the platform, there is a massive crane mounted on a rail car. A large and loud crowd has gathered all around it.
The clowns have come to greet me. They feed me nuts and dried fruit, leading me to the crane. I spy them walking next to me. And I see their tears are real today. I know my time has come.
Someone wraps a large rusty chain around my neck. I hear the groaning crane grind into motion. Soon my limbs no longer touch the ground and I find it difficult to breathe. I gaze down on a sea of faces. The adults seem angry. Many of them shout. Some of them throw stones. The children have open mouths and wide eyes. They brush away their parents' hands from their eyes. They want to see.
Who would have said that my biggest performance would be my hanging?
I look down and I see the clowns shut their eyes. They are mumbling something to themselves, but I am too far above them to hear anything. When they bow their heads, I can see their necks. It’s the last thing I see.
I will miss them.