Separated after Birth
I miss them.
It’s been nearly three years since they came to my home. A white man and an Asian lady. They came onto our territory like they owned and inhabited it.
My mom was nuzzled with me on the floor. Her friend had just left to head out on a date. Dad was still getting dinner.
When these people came, my heart began to race. My mother had not even noticed. I was so distraught, I gave in to sleepiness and allowed them to take me away.
I woke up and I was in this small space. It was just me. It looked like home, but I could tell it definitely was not. I felt so lonely.
A few minutes later a man returned with what I guess was supposed to be food for me. It looked nothing like what mom and dad used to provide me back home. But I was desperate so I gave in to the sorry excuse for a meal.
Next thing I knew, it was night time. The small space I was in also served as my bedroom. I would not be getting my usual bath without mom here.
After an awkward night’s sleep, I got up to get ready for my day. I was greeted by a couple of kids, just standing there and staring.
“They’re staring at me!” I wanted to scream. But I knew no one cared to hear my words.
Days passed. They turned to weeks, which transformed to months. And now, years had gone by. Nothing changed. My days were the same. Different people would come everyday to stare at me. People who were with their families and friends.
My confinement seemed to bother no one. Perhaps because to them, I was nothing more than a tiger.