I Dream of Gorillas by writerforever
Dedicated to the mountain gorillas of Rwanda
Those soft and gentle brown eyes staring back at me. The majestic features. That peace and serenity that seems to surround them and those same feelings that I feel while with them. I am a primatologist and I have been in Rwanda, Africa for two years now but already I have become deeply attached to the majestic mountain gorillas that I have been studying. Now I understand what Dian Fossey and George Schaller must have felt. This obsession, this passion for these gentle creatures is overwhelming me.
Kwela, a young female gorilla, approaches me as I lay amongst the leaves and plants of the mountains of Rwanda. She stares at me with curious brown eyes, making playful grunts. Finally she gets the courage to climb on top of my chest. There she sits, staring at me, and to me it almost seems as if she's smiling. I am happy here among this gorilla group.
I glance over at the other members of the group. Some are munching on leaves and others are lying down on the ground just like me. Rifiki, the old silverback, sits staring off into the distance, looking for any signs of danger. Several youngsters tumble about, rolling on the ground, making loud chuckles. Peace abounds.
Suddenly as if out of nowhere a gunshot sounds and Kwela is hit by the bullet. She cries out in pain and collapses on my chest. Blood from the bullet wound pours down my shirt and arms. I am speechless, unable to move at first. More gunshots sound. I watch in horror as more of the gorillas fall to the ground as bullets strike their noble bodies, their blood splattering the green plant life that surrounds them. Slowly I roll the little body of Kwela off of me and I stand.
Poachers are approaching. I can hear their triumphant and victorious yells. I look around me at the murdered bodies of the family that I had come to love. My blood boils with anger. Without thinking of my own safety I charge forward. The poachers emerge from the plants and vegetation and out into the open where the dead bodies of the gorillas lay. All six of the gorillas have been murdered.
"You monsters!" I scream, my face red, spit flying out of my mouth.
The poachers are stunned at first. Then as I charge towards them, ready to avenge the deaths of my family, one raises his rifle and fires. I fall to the ground, shot in the chest. I fall on my chest and turn my head side ways to look upon the fallen bodies of my friends. The pain from the bullet causes me to gasp. My blood is mixed with the blood of that of the gorillas. I can see them, their lifeless bodies covered in blood, their deep brown eye once full of life now lifeless. All that once was is gone. Now as the last breath of life leaves my wounded body I know what I will do. I will die here with the gorillas.I will dream of gorillas in my sleep, this deep dark sleep. I will dream of them and the life I once lived….