The warm smell of crispy bacon filled my lungs. My mouth watered with delight as I took my first bite into the crunchy delicious bacon. I loved having bacon for dinner. I crawled into my warm comfy bed. I closed my eyes and I woke in a cold, scratchy bale of hay. ‘What is going on?’ I pondered. I lifted my head to see to hooves, instead of hands. A dirty shirted man walked up and grabbed ahold of me. I screamed and screamed but all that came out was a squeal. He hung me upside down on a hook, and it started to move. A hammer like machine bashed in my head, and even after that I was still alive, and could feel the pain. I could no longer move, and it started moving again. The next machine cut all my skin off. Blood was dripping more than you can imagine. This was hell. I was gutted, had my legs cut off, and was about to have my head cut off. Right as the sharp knife hit my bloody flesh, I woke up. Everything was back to normal. Except for the fact that I can still feel the pain. I can’t take it anymore.
This was written by Thomas Wesley, minutes before his suicide. We will miss you.
