Disclaimer: Animal Farm belongs to George Orwell.
A/N: I had to do this for an English assignment and decided to just post it while I was at it. It's a 200 point essay. -sigh- Sucks for me. And I doubt many people will ever read this anyway.
It was the first snowfall of the year. The white flakes fell from the sky like soft pieces of cotton, coating the ground's layer of dirt with its white purity. It covered everything in its path, enveloping it with its fresh coolness. It was a fresh start, casing all the filth and preparing it for the coming of spring. It was a new beginning of a new season and a new year.
The cold stabbed at my fur, coating my thick skin with an icy layer of sparkling frost that wouldn't come off. With every swish of my wispy, bristled tail, a sense of fatigue settled upon me. A step forward into the untainted snow had my bones groaning in protest.
However, I walked on- without protest and without complaint. I lingered among the two young foals that newly joined the farm, for my body could not compare with that of the healthy horses that trotted along in the front of the pack. No one seemed to notice to me and I relied heavily on the fact to spare me from any beatings for my slow work.
Silence reigned as the group moved forward. The horses' speed, being twice as much as mine, had them half a mile in front of us. It was only the two foals and me remaining as we walked on slowly- them struggling under their new burdens, and me, struggling under the old ones that came back day after day. At every step, all I could hear was the plop of hoof against snow and the steady but heavy breathing of the youngsters at my side. I made no move to shoulder any of their loads.
"Mr. Benjamin?"
My ears twitched at the hesitant voice. I didn't stop, sneering at the idea of a whip against my frozen spine. "Speak," I ordered gruffly.
"What do the pigs have in their hands?" It was the younger of the siblings that asked me, suddenly overcome by curiosity that couldn't trump their fear of me.
"Whips," I replied with a twinge of annoyance. A gust of winter air blew over us, gracing our already frigid bodies with its presence. I gave a huff, letting some of my warm breath escape my body. I concentrated on keeping on the path, though I could sense the unasked question lingering in the air. "They bring pain- these whips. You do not want to cross with them or the pigs. Not the dogs either, for that matter."
"But why are they in charge? What happened to the humans?" the younger of the foals questioned again. His brother walked along at his side, silent and contemplating.
I gave a laugh that cracked from my old age. "Don't you see? The pigs are the humans. They are as close to humans as we have here on this farm. Ignore their presence. Just regard them as humans and you'll be fine."
The foal whinnied, at a loss, much like all the other animals on the farm. "I don't understand."
"No one does," I replied. I winced as the cart I pulled ran over a rock or something of the like, pulling at me painfully. "Watch out for the rocks. They're hard to see form under the snow," I warned to the youngsters. They just nodded, straining under the weight of their work. "If you're not careful, you'll shatter."
I sighed over the fact that we received more work now-a-day, with even less of a reward. The products of the farm were quickly diminishing and no one seemed to notice. Everyone fully trusted the useless numbers that the pigs presented to them. The faith everyone put in the pigs disgusted me, but what could I do?
An old donkey like me only had a little left to go. Why not just live in peace rather than deal with trying to overthrow the pigs- after all, the whole cycle would go over again. We'd overthrow them, then someone else would take command, steadily building up their atrocities like the pigs had done. I sneered at the thought.
"You hold yourself as if you're already shattered and with a slight breeze, you'll fall apart." It was the older of the two that spoke up this time, startling me from my thoughts. I frowned at his words, until I realized he was replying to my earlier statement.
A snort escaped my snout. "You don't know anything. See how many breezes I've put up with?" I nodded in the direction of my icy coat of fur which was numb with cold. The little crystals glared at me from their places snuggled in my fur. I didn't try to shake them out, too tired to even care.
"I know enough." The older foal stuck out his snout with a prideful air, trying to hold back from dissolving under all the work.
"No you don't. You haven't seen the things I have. Life is as bad now as it was under humans and it will always be like that. It was once more extravagant, you know? When Snowball lead and Boxer still lived, we thrived under animalism. But somehow, animalism turned into just a hollow philosophy."
The tree branches swayed in the wind and they moaned under the cold influence. "But you can do so much! You can get rid of the pigs. You could rule. You have so much wisdom and experience. Life could be so much better."
The foal was young, and therefore he was still a dreamer.
"I am old. I will just be another Old Major. I know Death like I know my own shadow. He isn't someone I can ever really count on- always there hovering behind, following my every movement. Whenever I turn around to look him in the eye He is gone. I cannot avoid Death, for her is coming for me- slowly inching his way into my body."
"I believe in you. What is wrong with working a little harder for perfection?" The foal asked rhetorically, his eyes searching my face as he sidled up next to me. His younger sibling lingered behind us, trailing our tracks impatiently.
The words struck me, bringing the memory of Boxer to my mind. With a sigh, I shook my head. There was too much bad blood on this farm. The memories all rushed back- Major's proposition, the enlightenment behind regaining the farm, the realization of the pigs' betrayal, the back braking work, the slaughters, the pain, and Boxers death. They all ringed through my mind, flooding my body with emotion.
I stopped in my tracks, my hooves sinking into the snow packed beneath them. I looked up. Both the foals turned back at me, an odd smile on their lips. Surrounding them was the white, pure snow, awaiting its tainting.
I closed my eyes, readying myself for approving their idea, thinking that maybe it would work out. But then, I felt the snap of searing pain across my hide and the crack of a whip, along with the commands to keep going.
I just walked on, dismissing every thought from my head and admonishing myself for the very thought of it all. Anything any of the foals said went in one ear and out the other. I didn't want any more problems.
When I unloaded my heavy cart hours later, a sense of tiredness set upon me.
I saw shards of broken dreams, glimpses of incomplete happiness, and withered smiles. My own reflection lay shattered in the snow, glimmering up at me.
A/N: Heh, how deep was that?
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