“Every chicken here dies. But no chicken here really lived. ”
My eyes are shut. I strain to open them a little but the burning sensation forces them closed again. Perhaps it is better they are shut. When I open them I see things I don’t want to.
My feet ache intolerably. I lift one foot to relieve it for a while, but the extra weight on my other foot is unbearable, so I put both feet down again. Whatever I’m standing on, it’s not stable.
It is hard to breath. I take in a deep breath and my lungs absorb the foul stench around me. My nose burns, as does my throat. The room smells of stale faeces and urine. My lungs feel heavy and wet. The wetness trickles down my throat, irritating my airways. I need to cough up this poisonous phlegm, but I don’t seem to be able to.
I’m hungry. There is food not far away, but I can’t get close enough. It’s hard to move and I’m terrified to try. The others I have been put here with- they have all gone mad. Sometimes they try to hurt me. I still have cuts and sores from the last attack- my last attempt to get closer to the food.
It is useless anyhow. Even when I get to the food my mouth hurts. It is hard to keep the food in my mouth. It just falls out. I have to tilt my head back to keep it there. Depravation, I decide, is easier.
There’s a loud scream that echoes through the darkness.
I open my eyes. Two of the others are fighting in the dark. Perhaps over food, or perhaps they have gone crazy- it only takes a matter of time. I can see across the room another huddled into a corner. She is menstruating and is embarrassed she can’t keep it private. She wants to be alone.
I choose to shut my eyes again.
My body aches in every way possible. It’s like a heavy throbbing sensation that starts at my neck and travels all the way down my body. I desperately want to stretch out, to relieve some of the pain, but there is no room. I lean against the cold, rusty metal bars beside me. My skin feels so red raw, and leaning against the wire only distresses my skin more.
The stinging on my skin gets worse as I’m forced to rub against the metal as a cage mate attempts to move to a more comfortable position.
Apparently chickens don’t have dreams.
Perhaps that is true. I don’t dream of a better life, because I don’t know of any other existence. This is everything I know of life. I have not seen, heard or thought of anything different.
But I do have hope.
Sometimes when I shut my eyes, everything goes blank for a while. The pain goes, the smell goes, and I don’t know where I am. This is my nothing. But no matter how long I sleep, my nothing is always broken again by life.
But maybe, just maybe, one day when I go to my nothing, I won’t ever wake up again. One day perhaps everything will disappear. No pain, no smell, no fighting, no cages- nothing.
That is what I hope for. That is all I have.
Do not mourn for me when I die. It is what died inside me while I was still alive that should enrage you.
Every chicken here dies. But no chicken here really lived.
Anonymous memoir of a battery caged chicken.
Emma Hurst, Animal Justice Party MP, elected to the Upper House of NSW Parliament - Emma Hurst's Website
Emma Hurst is the first female Animal Justice Party MP, elected to the Upper House of NSW Parliament in Australia. A former psychologist, Emma has worked tirelessly for the rights of animals for many years with a background in campaigning, political lobbying, and media work.
Since she was elected in March 2019, Emma has used her time in parliament to bring animals to the forefront of political discussion: running inquiries into battery hens and animals in entertainment, preparing legislation to ban puppy farms, securing legislative reform on the link between domestic violence and animal abuse, banning the breeding and importation of captive dolphins, and campaigning against the use of animals in experimentation.
