Gallus Gallus Domesticus. The scientific name for chicken. Chicken. What everybody calls me at school. School. A rotten place filled with bullies and gangs (at least that’s the case in my school). Bullies. The people who bully me. Me. Jacob Neworth, a nerd, unfortunately in a rotten school filled to the brim with rotten people. Since everybody there is rotten (except me), they all have the same target. You should know who that target is.
My life at home is not any better. My little sister is really annoying. Her animal has to be Periplaneta Americana, the scientific name for the American cockroach ( I chose the American cockroach because for some reason she has a very heavy American accent).
Anyways I better quickly change into my sleeping clothes and get into bed to read a chapter of Scientific Names and their Peculiar Origins.
That was a sleep that I have mixed feelings about. I had a weird dream. It was about me turning into a chicken when all the kids at school started teasing me and calling me a chicken because I didn’t dare step onto the dodgeball court.
Mum! I try to shout as I get out of my surprisingly big bed with a large blanket and humongous pillows (which is surprising as it’s quite obviously not normal) but all that comes out is a weird cluck…
I eagerly go downstairs because today is Friday and we get to have Choco Spots! Weird, why am I so short! The walls seem so high! I step on the stairs but then I see it: my human feet are not there: chicken feet are there! I ran downstairs screaming. But still all that comes out is “PUAK PUAK PUAK*” (*Chicken noises). Then I see that my mum is cooking ROAST CHICKEN for our lunch!
I run back upstairs and gather the courage to go into the toilet and look into the mirror there. “PUAK PUAAAAAAAAAK!!!!” Then it all goes black.
I wake up to the sound of a knife sharpening. A knife sharpening… I run as fast as my short, stubby legs can. Somehow, I arrived at my school. Wait… it’s a school day… and it's school time…
I’m instantly surrounded by bullies. Oh no…
“Stay away from that Chicken!!” Shouts Ms Mardri, the cranky, short-tempered librarian for our school. Phew, I was saved!
“Now, let me just call the chicken slaughterhouse…” she murmured. Then it all went black, again.
I woke up to the sound of a lock clicking. I’m squished with probably about 75 more chickens in this cage at the back of what looks like a rusty, worn, Ute. I concentrated strongly to make sure I didn’t black out again. I felt the pressure relieve but then it quickly got replaced by cold bars. I saw all the other chickens getting taken either to the place called slaughter zone or raising zone. The chickens that went to the slaughter zone seemed to be the fattest of all and the thin ones went to the raising zone. I tried to look thin but it is really hard when you are a chicken. Luckily, I was the thinnest out of all of them. When they took me there, it smelled like what chickens would generally like. I don’t know what it is, but it smelled good to the chicken version of myself.
As soon as I got put in a surprisingly large cage, they gave me lots of food. I knew I shouldn’t eat much because that would make me ready for death, but I couldn’t help it. I stuffed my face. It was so good I couldn’t stop eating, and the refilling guy didn’t stop filling my tray! My body gradually became fatter and fatter and eventually took over the cage. But still, I kept eating.
Eventually, I couldn’t keep eating, but I heard the people who were serving me food saying, “Man that chicken can eat a lot!”
“Yeah. He’s already ready for slaughter!” Commented the other one. That was exactly not what I wanted to hear. Suddenly, a large man came into the room. “I need another chicken.” He drawled.
“Use that one over there.” One of the men said as he pointed to me. Oh no. The big man opened my cage and picked me up with two fingers. He carelessly carried me to the slaughter zone with his chubby fingers and slammed me to the blood smeared table. This is the end, I thought.
He went to get a knife and I took the chance. I hopped off the table and ran for my life. “HEY!” I heard the big man shout. I felt every one of his footsteps on the tiled floor. I didn’t know where to run. I ended up at the experimental room.
“Remember the spark from the chicken-izer at night? I wonder who it struck?” a man said.
“Yeah, I feel bad for whoever it struck. If we can track them, we can put him into the un-chicken-izer, which we made when we created the chicken-izer, he’d go back to normal.”
That’s it! I just have to jump into the un-chicken-izer and then I’d turn back to normal! I ran and jumped in and closed the door with my wing. I closed my eyes as a green ray shot into my head and chest. I opened my eyes. I was back to normal!!!
Wait. Why am I on four legs? I looked in the mirror there. I am a tiger! But then I felt this weird feeling in my head, saying that I can turn back to a human and still be able to change back into a tiger anytime I want. I then turned back into my old self.
My life is so much better now. At school and home, I gained respect because I can turn into a tiger, and also my sister doesn’t annoy me (But she still is a snitch) because she thinks I will bite her arms and legs off. The best thing is, I can be me without getting teased or bullied.