PART THREE - DEAD RABBITS

My father took his trusty knife, wrapped her hands around it and they slit that rabbits throat without a sound.   
  
I felt nothing except an emptiness, void of any feelings towards the rabbit.There was blood running down the rabbits upside down head (pulp) onto the ground. 
  
My father and the girl below me cut the rabbits little head and feet off. I felt pity for the girl below me as she pealed the skin off with her bare hands.She pulled the guts out and threw them in  the gut bucket next to the tree. I was glad I only had to watch. 
  
Feeling as if I were in a dream, vision and hearing going in and out. I watched the girl below me walk in circles round the killing tree, making moaning sounds which sounded to me like a ghost. I remember almost laughing because of the  cartoon ghost sounds she was making. 
  
It's kinda like, I knew it was me down there making those sounds and at the same time thinking it couldn't possibly be me. I felt as if I were her puppeteer, but i couldn't seem to make her stop making those sounds. 
  
At this point I am unsure what happened exactly. It seems to me that I went  and hid in the chicken coop and cradled Cripp in my arms. I didn't come out till I was called for dinner. I felt as if I were walking on air instead of the ground. Very, very surreal. 
  
I have no Idea how I got the blood and stuff off of me, but I'm sure i must have because my mother would never let me come to the dinner table splattered with blood and guts. I watched the girl (me) walk to the table and sit down (blood free) with a strange look on her face. Defiant, it seemed. I know I was feeling defiant myself. 
  
My wonderful father made me sit near him and he dished up the biggest juiciest piece of honeybunch he could find, telling me I had to eat everything on my plate. I was thankful I wasn't myself because I would never have been able to eat that rabbit without puking. 
  
I looked at my daddy straight in the eye and said "thanx daddy, I believe I will eat every bite". And I smiled...And I ate every bite with that empty smile plastered on my face. Fuck you daddy. You will never win. 
  
 I remember urging the girl who was me to smile and laugh and act like nothing was wrong at all, just to get my fathers goat. He looked puzzled and worried throughout dinner. I think he was wondering how I could be taking this so well.   
  
I just kept smiling that empty smile. 
  
After dinner I watched me walk into the bathroom, close the door, throw up the entire dinner and lay down by the toilet. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open and fell asleep where I lay.My last thought on the floor was how sad I felt for the little girl who was me, but didn't feel like me. 
  
I woke up the next morning and went to feed the pets like I always did and found honey bunch was gone. I thought Honeybunch must have run away during the night, and I thought it was ok because she needed her freedom too. I understood the need for freedom. i also knew I was lying to myself and that was ok too. 
  
That day my father told me i would have to get rid of my goats or they would be eaten too. I cried and hated my father but sold them the next week with a sense of relief. The same day, I snuck cripp into one of the neighbors yards who also had chickens because I knew he would be next. 
  
I vowed I would never give my father the chance to hurt me or any of my pets again.   
  
I was 27 before I ever had another pet. Pets were painful for me.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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