There was this little girl named Tasha playing beside a pond. She was hardly five. Sitting on the green, dewy grass in that morning sunshine, she was looking as bright as ever.
She was surrounded by ducks all around and it seemed the ducks were more than friends to her. Flowers blooming, the aura fragrances by the perfume of the petals of these flowers, butterflies fluttering, collecting nectar, the haze vanishing slowly and the washed greenery all around.
Tasha running with her small feet all over the grass and the ducks hopping beside her. It looked like a beautiful dream of an artist painted on a wall. People were coming and going for their routine tasks, watching and smiling over Tasha playing in that carefree manner. She had become the reason of smiles for all those who were passing by.
Just in front of this place where Tasha was sitting, there was a butcher's shop. He was one of the very famous butchers in the town. He was known for selling fresh duck meat and the source was obvious. He was observing Tasha and her duck friends from a distance. No, he wasn't observing. He was staring with his dirty eyes on the scene.
The ducks were money to him and Tasha, she was smaller than his own children yet he could not take his lustful eyes off her. After a while, when there was silence, he came out of his shop, stood beside Tasha, took hold of two ducks by their neck and Tasha with all her innocence tried to wonder, what in the world was that man doing to her friends and started following the butcher to his shop.
The other ducks knew that the butcher killed their mates everyday so they all went back into the pond. The scene now became chaotic, gloomy with entropy at the heights.
A duck was killed and so was a childhood. The butcher proved his innate characteristics of being brutal.