David Arioch – Jornalismo Cultural

Jornalismo Cultural

The boy who killed pigs

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“I really do!”, confirmed the boy, laughing and listening to my grandfather’s nephew (Photo: Copy)

When I was eight years old, we traveled to Batayporã, in Mato Grosso do Sul. There, I met other relatives of my grandfather. But on that trip, only one person caught my attention – a third cousin. He was seven years old and had reddish eyes.

On the farm, I saw him from afar, expelling some of the animals that circled the main house. They told me that he had killed pigs since he was five years old, and that he liked to eviscerate them with a dagger guarded for generations. “I really do!”, confirmed the boy, laughing and listening to my grandfather’s nephew.

Walking on the farm, I avoided being alone, and always looked around me, trying to find out if the red-eyed boy was around. I had never seen or heard of anyone who had killed a pig.

As the afternoon fell, and the sun rose low and reddish on the horizon, as well as the boy’s eyes, I learned that my parents intended to spend the night at the farm. I approached my mother and questioned her, trying to assure our departure:

“I don’t want to sleep here. If that boy kills pigs, animals that don’t do anything to him, who guarantees that he is not able to do the same with me at dawn?”

Written by David Arioch

December 19th, 2016 at 11:11 am

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