. save the pig .

  I was in a hospital. It was clean and bright and bustling with people. I found myself in the lobby where there was a long line of people at the front counter. I think I was a temp or a nurse, dressed in the green hospital uniform but I don’t remember what I was supposed to do. Then all of a sudden the person at the end of the line started scratching incessantly. He couldn’t stop, and the itch spread to the person in front of him, and then jumped to the person in front of that person, till the whole line was scratching themselves all over. Something contagious had spread, and the hospital went into lockdown, quarantining everyone who had contracted this strange chicken-pox-looking skin disease.

  The hospital director assigned this case to a well respected doctor and he discovered that the disease started because of a pig that was brought into the hospital. The pig was something of a sports mascot and was pretty famous, so no one thought it odd that it would get special treatment from one of the most renowned doctors in town. The doctor carried the pig and took it straight away to surgery.

  Time passed and I wondered what surgery was actually taking place as it took so long. Finally the doctor came out of the room, looking stern and cold as ever. He saw me and told me that the surgery was successful but the pig didn’t survive. It was my job to dispose the body and clean up the theatre room. As I entered the theatre, I saw the body of a pig on its back, with its body cut up and mangled from the inside, with blood dripping from its intestines. But the more I inspected it, the more I realised that this was not the same pig.

  It turns out that I had been taking care of the pig for a while so I was suspicious as to why the doctor would lie and switch the pig bodies. I grew upset knowing the pig was still under my responsibility, so I went to look for it. I discovered another hidden theatre room where the real pig laid, on the operating table, on its back, and its stomach was also cut open. But it was more horrible when I found out that it was still alive and slowly coming into consciousness. As if the doctor purposely did not apply enough anaesthetic so that the pig could feel pain throughout the procedure.

  I was furious! But I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find that doctor and kick his ass, but the first thing I was did was go downstairs to find a veterinary doctor (don’t ask why they would be in the same hospital building). I knocked on the door and entered to find an Indian woman by the name of Dr. Kreegul Gurgess. I knew she was a great and kind animal doctor so I explained to her the situation and rushed to my aid upstairs. She also let me know that we would definitely get the doctor back for what he did.

The only thing I can think about from this is that ANIMAL RIGHTS PEOPLE. THEY CAN FEEL PAIN TOO. I really don’t like people who hurt, kill and abuse animals just for the fun of it. I’d cast them in the Twilight zone where animals ruled the earth and used humans for lobotomy tests.

Also, there is this misconception, not only in non-muslims, but in muslims themselves that just because pigs and dogs are regarded as impure, we have to treat them badly. Since when are we ever encouraged to treat another creation badly?? Just because we have to wash our body parts or any object that’s made contact with pigs and dog’s saliva 7 times, we have to condemn the creatures to pain and misery?? COME ON PEOPLE. THINK.

. 23.03.12 wolves .

  The whole Dreamworld was white; covered in snow and ice. Shimmers of black trees surrounding me; some dead, some Fir still semi-buried in the white and standing tall. I'm dressed in a thick coat and heavy military snow-boots; my face buried in the black scarf I wore on the inside of my hood. My gloved hands packing a sniper rifle by my side, as I stare into the distance of the tundra lands before me. At first I'm standing on a rooftop. As I descend back into the building, I find myself in a base of some kind with many others dressed like me. Each of them packing heat, though different sizes and types. I was one of the few snipers they had.

  I sit myself at the window. We're at the second floor of the base and I position my rifle where it should be. I scan the perimeter, anticipating something. The base stirs. Someone got a signal from one of ours nearby; them and their team on the outside. While the others move, I stay put. I don't leave the scope of my sniper. I keep watch. Soon I see some others exit the building below and stand their ground, guarding the base. As if something was approaching any time now.

  And then..... I saw movement.

  White wolves started charging from the cover of the black forest. Shots are fired and blood speckled the snow in minutes. I fired at the large, beautiful beasts regrettably. Wolves were one of my favorite animals. But these were no ordinary wolves. We were sent to this research base to protect it, so the people that belonged to it would continue their search for answers. There was a Canine parasite going around, making the wolves more aggressive than usual; almost rabid. The way they attacked, it was erratic. It seemed like they were even stronger, being able to tear human limbs apart.

  I had to shoot each wolf at least twice to put them down. A few of us were injured and we didn't know whether or not the parasite had any effect on humans. They were sent underground to the labs for medical attention and research. We didn't want any zombie cases to happen, and we wouldn't risk it. When the coast is clear, I go downstairs and outside to help my teammates clear the bodies. I look at the wolves; so majestic. I was sad I had to kill them.

  But then all of a sudden, one of the scientist's dogs started going berserk. He and his friend had to hold him down as he injected some prototype cure for the parasite. But the dog was getting too haywire. I didn't have my sniper with me but a normal rifle and I aimed at the dog's head, as it swayed violently from side to side, ready to gnash anything and everything. But the scientist told me to stand down and wait for the cure to take some effect. It wasn't showing any effect from my perspective. I kept my gun at the ready. The scientist was upset, I could understand. It was his dog. He didn't want to lose him to the parasite. He and his teammate were yelling, arguing some sense into each other when the dog bit into and tore off one of his fingers. Even with a bleeding hand, he still held on to the dog to keep him still, well enough for me to take the shot. And I did.

Poor dog. It was sad when I had to kill all those white wolves. They were so beautiful. And the poor scientist guy. He really loved his dog. I remember it well; it was a handsome, jet-black Labrador. But after the Dream ended, I wondered to myself instead of using bullets, why didn't we just use really strong tranquilizer? Wouldn't that be easier? Unless of course, the canines were already zombies and if that wouldn't take any effect, then I would understand.