The fish

“Slice that fish are you a coward?” His uncle looked at him in a disregarding manner. 
The boy looked at the fish and stuck the point of the knife at it’s soft belly. A cold sweat began behind his ears followed by great tension that swarmed from his gentle heart and filled his head. How could he cut flesh like that.
His uncle grabbed the fish and put it under the stump that was left of his right arm, cut off in battle. He swept the knife out of the child’s hand and gutted the fish remorselessly. Pulling out his innards and throwing them to the dogs who fought over them snapping at each other.
The boy wanting to prove he was a man picked up the next fish. “Let me gut this one please Uncle.” Said the boy.
“I have no time for this. I will clean them. Go play with your sisters” His uncle again grabbed the fish from his hand and gutted it quickly.
The boy felt smaller than ever. He hated his uncle. He turned towards the other children playing a stupid children’s games and froze. He grabbed another fish and picked it up.
“Uncle, let me help with the fish I won’t be afraid.” Said the boy. He took the knife from his uncle’s hand and stabbed it in the fishes soft stomach. The knife went straight through. A feeling of nausea mixed with pride flooded the boys body. He cut more and more of the fish feeling lighter and lighter with every cut. Then he stuck his small fingers in the fishes soft insides, a feeling of disgust creeping up his throat, he grabbed as much as he could and pulled them out forcefully tossing them on the ground, letting out a big sigh of relief. He looked up at his uncle expecting pride but saw no emotion whatsoever.
“Finish the rest of these and bring them to the cook.” Said his uncle and grabbed his ale mug going to sit with the men.
The boy looked at the big amount of fish left and felt regret. He would much rather spend this time playing with the other kids.


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