I woke up, as I tend to do, and began my morning like any other. I am a bit of a late riser, so the Feeder was already on his way. The Feeder served us, and came every day, with a big cup of food, with the same food as always, and he would scatter it. Such is the life of a turkey.

Today was an especially vibrant day. The sun was out and the sky was clear. The morning sun illuminated the Big Pen with such magnificence. To live there must truly be a privilege. The other turkeys were roaming about, socializing. I strutted around the dusty shed, speaking with the other turkeys. I have known everyone here for as long as I can remember. I get to live with dozens of other turkeys, so even if there's not much to do, at least I’m not bored by myself.

It was now around midday, and I had decided to take a nap at the far end of the outside pen. I fell asleep whilst gazing at the tranquil scenery and dreamt of lady turkeys. I awoke from my blissful dream to the sound of heavy steps. The Man was here, along with the Feeder. The Man shows up once in a while, and he’ll comment on our sizes. Sometimes, if a turkey is really “fat”, someone will come to take them away, and they get to go to the Big Pen up on the hill, where the Man lives. The Man seems to be dominant, at least among humans.

The Man and the Feeder were speaking, and once again, they spoke about the size of us turkeys. I mean, even though we might get taken to the Big Pen, talking about us like that seems kind of rude. Like, some turkeys just can’t help being thin. The idea of going to the Big Pen is really the only reason we tolerate it. 

However, this time, they were talking about me! Was I the fattest turkey?! Was I going to be taken to the Big Pen?! I was beyond excited. The idea of going to the big pen is thrilling.

I rushed around the pen, gobbling the news at anyone who would listen. All the other turkeys had emotions ranging from awe to jealousy, and I received lots of congratulations. Finally, I got to Edith, the thinnest turkey in the pen. She was also the oldest turkey, and a little bit crazy. See, she is not skinny for some obscure reason as I mentioned before, but because she chooses to eat the bare minimum amount of food to survive. 

“Well that’s unfortunate,” she said in response to my good news.

“Umm….what do you mean?” I responded, confused by her statement.

“You do not want to go to the Big Pen.”

“Huh?”

“Have you noticed that no one ever comes back? Not even to visit?”

“Well yeah. That’s because they’re living in luxury. Who would want to come back?”

“Okay then, why do they pick the fattest turkeys?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“It’s because they eat the turkeys they take.”

“Uhhhh..guh….WHAT!?”

“They eat them.”

“Uhhh…Edith…I’ve got somewhere to be,” I said, like there’s anywhere to be but the pen.

“Errm…ok. Just be careful, Atatürk.”

As I mentioned, Edith is a little crazy. Still….what she said ruffled my feathers a little bit. I spent much of the day thinking about her hypothesis. Could what she had said really be true? Was the “Big Pen” just delusional thinking? I didn't like thinking about it. Though her claims were absurd, I still couldn’t help but be anxious.

That night, I dreamt of men in white clothing with red aprons. They stood around me with a menacing aura. I was so intimidated by their stance, it took me a moment to notice their large blades. I only then understood their intentions. They were going to cut my thick, juicy, turkey body to pieces. I looked around me and saw dozens of dead, mutilated turkeys around me. When I looked back, the largest and scariest man brought his oversized knife down on my neck, thoroughly divorcing my head and shoulders, causing thousands of little flies and maggots to exit my body.

With that image, I awoke from my fretful sleep, before the sun had even risen. It wasn’t long after I woke up that I remembered my petrifying dream. It was still sending shivers down my spine, even after a couple of minutes of being awake.

I stood up from my resting place and strutted outside. I was standing up against the edge of the pen, looking at the stars and thinking about my dream. Why did I dream about that? Was this…what Edith was talking about? Could what she said have some merit?

I heard some rustling behind me, and speak of the devil, Edith had decided to join me.

“Good morning, Edith.”

“Ted, you need to get going.”

“Edith, that’s en-”

“I’m going to send Hitch with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere but the Big Pen.”

“I know you don’t believe me, so ask Hitch. He’s seen the same thing countless times.”

“Um…who’s Hitch?”

“Over here, numbskull.”

I looked to my left to see a small sparrow, peering at me with disdain. 

“You should’ve been long gone hours ago.”

“I said it already, I’m not going anywhere!”

“Cool then, die.”

“Come on Atatürk, we wouldn’t be doing this if we weren't sure,” Edith reasoned.

I paused for a moment. I mean, there must be something that makes them so certain.

“How do you know that I’m really in any danger?” 

“hOw dO YOu kNOw ThAt i’M ReALly iN aNY dAnGeR?” mocked the sparrow.

“As I said, Hitch has seen it happen before,” Edith intercepted before I could get upset.

“Oh, and I’m just supposed to trust this random sparrow?”

“You can come with me and live, or stay and die. The choice is yours.”

There was no uncertainty in his statement. He spoke as if simply stating a fact. Was the Big Pen really worth the risk? Was running away any less of a risk? Well, the idea of getting eaten is more disturbing than if I got killed escaping.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Oh, yay. I was just so concerned.”

I’m actually going to kill this sparrow.

“So, now that you’re going, you need to know how you’re going,” said Edith.

Hitch and Edith relayed the plan to me as I tried to gather any semblance of conviction. I’m not sure I had enough confidence to pull through. However, it’s not like I have much of a choice.

I said farewell to Edith, and Hitch led me to a specific part of the fence. I was instructed to put my neck under one of the planks and lift. Surprisingly, it was completely loose, propped up only by a small, unnoticeable stick. Once the plank had been lifted, the real challenge came to play; squeezing my voluptuous bird body underneath the fence, a feat which I was just barely able to complete.

After that near-death experience, I felt I could now relax. I could just walk off into the woods and be free.

*BARK*

*RUFF*

Ah, yes, the sound of all my hopes ceasing to exist. The farm dogs had arrived.

“RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!” shrieked Hitch, blessing me with his genius idea.

I ran, but not like actual running. Like, I’m panicking and running in circles. I was mixing running and flying, taking to the sky in uncoordinated bursts. Finally, I miraculously concluded that I should run toward the woods. I absolutely SPED towards the trees.

Just then, I heard a sharp, piercing whistle. The dogs’ ears immediately perked up and their heads swiveled in the direction of the whistle. They began to run in that direction and I, taking advantage of the moment, fled in the opposing direction. Hitch was hot on my hypothetical tail. 

Even once we had crossed the treeline, we maintained our speed, not letting our guards down. It felt as if I ran for hours, fearing what would happen if I slowed even a little bit. Eventually, the sound of barking dogs began to fade, and my heart and legs simultaneously began to slow down, returning to their normal pace.

“You didn’t say there were going to be vicious beasts roaming about!”

“I didn’t know you were going to be so noisy.”

“Oh, so this is my fault.”

“Well, yeah, pretty much.”

This sparrow is not making it out of this alive. I don’t know how someone is capable of squeezing that much annoying in such a tiny body. Now that I had a moment to rest, I had time to think for a second. I wonder if any other turkeys would escape.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling in some nearby bushes. Hitch and I became completely still, waiting cautiously to see what would emerge. What….emerged was….was…another turkey?

‘Lo and behold, a turkey, a little smaller than myself, came out of the bushes.

“You’re late, Garret,” said Hitch, irritably.

“S-super s-sorry, sparrow sir,” stuttered Garret.

“Let’s just get out of here and meet up with the others.”

“F-follow, feathered f-friends.”

Now I was really confused. Did Hitch know this guy?

“Hitch, what’s going on?” I asked.

Hitch explained that Garret is the contact within a flock of wild turkeys that accept runaway domestic turkeys. He and Edith worked with them to help any turkeys that want to escape being eaten. If he and Edith kept it up, maybe some of my friends would escape too.

“So wait, if Edith knows that they eat the turkeys, and is able to escape, then why doesn’t she?”

“Because Edith wants to help others escape, and if a random sparrow starts telling you that you have no future unless you run away, then you’d probably not respond too well.”

“So, have you guys helped a lot of turkeys escape?”

“Well….no. Most turkeys don’t believe us and aren’t willing to come. There's not much we can do at that point. Especially later in the year. So many are taken in November, I warn them, but they rarely listen.”

It only then dawned on me how fortunate I was, to not only have these people help me but to also have been one of the few willing to believe them. But, now, I was also carrying an immense feeling, one of both sorrow and guilt. This emotion left my heart experiencing an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. To have left everyone I ever knew to be killed and eaten by barbarians. Creatures that raised us with such false affection, only to eventually murder us. The thought of it made me sad and weary. 

Thoughts of the same kin occupied my mind throughout the rest of the night, not allowing me to enjoy my newly found freedom. After all, maybe I would’ve been better off in the pen, living in ignorance. Even as I met my new flock, my mind did not wander far from my own crippling misery. 

I thought I would never recover from that feeling, but time does heal. I got to live a pretty peaceful life with my flock for many years. It was simple; We ate, we slept, and we talked. There wasn’t much else to it. We didn’t need anything else. Hitch even ended up delivering another turkey. Though, this time, it was from a different farm. Hitch had started to deliver his warning to multiple farms.

One day, I found myself separated from the rest of the turkeys. I called out to them but received no response. While I was searching for them, I came across a human man, dressed quite strangely, carrying a long object that I'm unable to describe. I, still worried about being separated from the flock, thought to maybe ask him for some assistance.

“Hey man,” I started, “have you seen so-”

BANG!

Motherf-