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The Life of a King

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Makenzie Melko-Marshall

Professor Shaver

English 1101


The Life of a King

        It was a humid, rainy day in May when my life as I knew it tragically ended. I was just seventeen, an age that may be quite awkward and confusing for most, it was the peak of my great life. You see, they separated me from my family and from my hot, but sweet continent of Africa, they being the horrible people of the Cincinnati Zoo, those monsters. They brought me over for what they had tried to explain to me as “a better life”, did I mention they were also liars? Anyway, they kidnapped me and took me to the awful city of Cincinnati, in the even worse state of Ohio right before my third birthday. I was still a young, learning child and they forcefully took me from my family, but that’s beside the point. When I arrived I was in shock, not only because of how nice it was, and how nice the other gorillas in my enclosure were. My new friends welcomed me with open arms from the minute I arrived at the Cincinnati Zoo, “maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad,” I thought to myself. A prediction that I had my mind set upon, a false prediction, but a prediction nonetheless.

        I quickly became the zoo’s main attraction, and I don’t mean to brag but, everyone loved me, they came from all corners of the world to see me, whoever would’ve thought? I gained so much clout in that zoo I even found a way to communicate with the humans and got them to ship my family over to the states as well so that we could reunite. “Ask and you shall receive,” was the message I got back and within three months my entire family has their own enclosure in the Cincinnati Zoo, apart from mine of course. I was now the only animal in the zoo with an entire enclosure to myself. It was like my own little world and I had grown to love it, no longer did I have such hard feelings towards the city of Cincinnati, the state of Ohio, or any of my zookeepers. I, in fact, grew especially close to the zookeeper who had the responsibility of taking care of me, he was my friend and I loved him. I was a king in my own right, the metaphorical backbone of the country, if you will. They even put my picture on a bottle of glue, how many other gorillas can say they have a glue named in their likeness.

        Then came the day, May 28th, 2016. It was a normal day in the zoo, people laughing, children watching, this was a particularly busy day because of the weather. I remember it being extremely nice, so I was out entertaining the people more than usual, until something peculiar happened. I saw a small child find his way into my enclosure and instantly knew something was wrong, so I did what any rational, loving, and thoughtful being would do, I went to this young child’s rescue. Then all of the people of the zoo instantly panicked, I even heard one woman say, “oh my gosh, the dirty gorilla is going to hurt the little boy!!” Which hurt me a little, but I was reassured when I heard the reply of, “for one he’s not dirty, and secondly, Harambe would never hurt that little boy, he’s too sweet.” I don’t know if everyone thought I would hurt the child or what, but I was genuinely protecting and aiding to his small injuries, but I guess the zookeeper didn’t see it that way… I was with that child for ten full minutes without any harm done, that is, until they shot me… One fatal shot to the head for me, someone who was just trying to help.



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