No More Mary's Lamb

by Aubrey Graze Pareja

I knew it will end this way.

At first I had high hopes it won't. After all, Mary was a sweet girl, a very sweet, kind girl. She even took me to school, to show me off to her classmates.

I wasn't very special, to tell the truth. That part about having 'fleece as white as snow' was true, of course, but that applies to all of my siblings as well. My mother was the best of the stock-- and we all inherited our fleece from her.

But for some reason, Mary chose me. I guess, for that at least, I should be thankful.

And boy, what fun we had! I used to follow her around, and she'd never gotten annoyed. We had such fun games, me and Mary.

I used to dread growing up, because maybe Mary wouldn't like me that much then. I wasn't scared of getting shorn, mama already told me it doesn't hurt, it actually feels good. But I was mighty scared of not being able to follow Mary around, and so I was afraid of my growing up.

But I should have been scared of Mary growing up. I haven't counted on it. I thought lambs grow faster than children. But suddenly, one day (and I wasn't even old enough to be shorn), Mary was having more fun following that farm hand Marcus than me following her.

Our play time grew less and less frequent and my hair is getting thicker and thicker. I watch Mary and Marcus from the my pen, playing my and Mary's games. Mary wouldn't let me near her anymore.

I stopped waiting for her, and started waiting for the truck that took mama away instead. My playtime with Mary is over, and I know that I have to go back now to what I was born to be-- a sheep.

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Writers Bio

Aubrey Graze Pareja is programmer by day, and a sleepwalker by night. She tries to write in between.

Inspirational ImageLoading the sheep by Cath  Bartonby Cath Barton

Pieces Inspired by this Image

by Harmony Hodges

'Child of War'
by Mike Berger

by Steven Gulvezan

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