Steak

Sue grew up in a posh suburb with all the benefits of the western world. Sue had a wonderful family in a safe community. Sue grew up healthy and strong.

When she was three years old her mother told her that carrots grew in the ground and apples grew on trees.

“Where does steak grow Mummy?”

“Well, it grows on cows Sue.”

“How does it grow on cows?”

“Steak is a cows muscles.”

Sue thought about this for a while. She thought about all the cows that had had all their muscles eaten off.

“I don’t want to eat cows muscles Mummy. I just want to eat vegistables.”

Sue became a vegetarian. At school she got teased about her untrendy lettuce sandwiches. But Sue didn’t care. Somewhere there was a cow with all its muscles and it was because of her.

Sue was eight years old when she realised that cows had to be killed to make steak. That just proved she was right all along – eating meat was barbaric.

The more she thought the angrier she became. What gave people the right to steal a bee’s honey? What gave humans the right to take away a sheep’s baby for its skin?

Sue became a vegan. At University everyone laughed at her plastic shoes and her soy yogurt. But Sue didn’t care. Somewhere an animal was able to feed its offspring and it was because of her.

When she was 23 Sue found that yoga calmed her mind. She would practice twice a day and meditate for half an hour every morning.

The yoga retreat centre was miles out in the country, on a farm where people lived in harmony with nature. It really was a retreat in the truest sense; the air was fresh and the whole world seemed at peace. Here mans cynical ideas of ‘survival of the fittest’ were but a bad dream.

Sue took deep long breaths as she headed towards the food ashram and several people greeted her with a traditional Indian greeting.

As she filled her plate from giant bowls of wonderful food the young man serving himself next to her smiled and joked.

“This looks great but where’s the steak?”

Sue glowered back.

“Oh come on!” said the young man “You’re too pretty to be one of those lettuce sandwich eating, plastic shoe wearing vegans.”

When Sue heard this something inside her snapped. All the years of caring when no one else gave a damn came back at her.

She picked up a fork and stabbed it through the young mans throat.

It wasn’t until he was lying on the floor, blood streaming from his neck, that Sue realised what she had done.

His tee-shirt had a picture of some farm animals and a slogan that read:

“I don’t kill my friends.”


© Matthew Dalton

Steak

Matthew Dalton

Joined June 2008

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