The Last Rooster

It was time for dinner, and my mom decided we were going to have chicken. I was in my bedroom, when I heard my mom scream “SHERRY, GET OUT HERE QUICK, AND BRING A KNIFE!”

I grabbed a serrated bread knife.

I found my mother in the back yard with a rooster between her legs, its neck pulled to an unbelievable length. It’s yellow eyes were bulging, and it was making a hideous hissing noise. While my mother held the rooster’s neck taut, I sawed at the neck until the head pulled free.

I couldn’t bring myself to eat it.