Found at
www.animalaid.org.uk/
The stark reality of animal abuse.
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Special report: September 2003
A PRISONER OF NO COMPARISON
By Rae Schilling
It is the morning of Christmas Eve, the staff have arrived earlier
than is usual today, they are hurriedly working through their chores,
cutting corners to get finished; paying less attention to detail.
There is a sense of urgency mixed with anticipation, a determination
amongst them to get finished and return to their homes.
The atmosphere though is one of false jollity, almost palpable, it
leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. All of this here is out of my
control, but somehow transfers itself inwards. I learnt early on to be
wary of these people's moods, of all facets of their behaviour, they
are never to be trusted - cruelty and evil stride boldly hand in hand,
it is part of the daily routine here, the laughter is not of a genuine
nature, their newfound spirit of geniality only serves to confuse and
alienate me further. Any change, any alteration in their mood is
unnerving, it reinforces my deep distrust of them, and my fear.
Conversation settles on a central theme, that of Christmas Day; where
it will be spent, who they will share their time with. I should feel
less intimidated today for my presence is hardly acknowledged, but I
do not, they are here, that is enough. My meal is prepared in haste,
no medication is administered today, their tasks are almost completed.
The floor is given a token sweep, then they leave. The security guards
are the only staff that remain on site, they will not venture in, we
are alone once more.
An overwhelming sense of relief washes over me, releasing me from my
fear of persecution and torture for a while, I begin to relax. Others
like myself shift their positions, moving a little to ease the pain of
confinement, stretching tight and weary bodies. A gentle chattering
noise can be heard, a comforting reminder of times gone in a language
half forgotten. Someone is playing with the drinking water, others
begin to eat. These sounds so natural to us break the monotony of the
incessant clicking of the strip lighting and the continuous humming
and whirring of heaters and extractor fans.
I thought of escape today, it would have been a good time to try with
staff not as vigilant as normal. A female made a bid for freedom a few
days ago, she was caught before she reached the first door and beaten
severely, her screams still pervade my thoughts, everything though has
to be risked in order to be free. Another female who has been here far
longer than I, has lost her mind; she passes her days in a sea of
tormented confusion, as if by her repetitive movements she can somehow
evade the remorseless tide which slaps heavily against her. Her
swaying movements are deliberate although no longer controlled by any
conscious reasoning and are only broken long enough for her to take
her food, she begins again in earnest weaving...rocking...swaying.
The female next to me sits very quietly save for her desperate
attempts to find some comfort to alleviate her pain; she was wrenched
from her cage a while back, this was performed with such brutality
that her shoulder was broken, she used to tap gently to me with her
knuckles, those days have now gone. Her injury was not documented nor
any treatment given, the only record is a note attached to her cage
door: "DANGEROUS. DO NOT HANDLE ALONE". No one outside of this place
will ever know of her suffering nor of any of the abuse that we are
subjected to.
I heard the staff whispering amongst themselves the other day, one of
them had "messed up" on the dosing and the wrong drugs were given. I
know who got that dose, I recognised her body when she was carried
through on her way to the incinerator, in death as in life, she was
handled like garbage - her wasted and fragile frame covered only by a
blue plastic sheet ready to be discarded. She was thrown away,
rubbished - of no further use or consequence, another stolen life
disposed of in secrecy and silence.
The caretaker whose task it is to dispose of waste... with us, likes
to torment the young females here, his daily routine is always
strictly adhered to, he strolls through the unit while deciding who
appears to be the easiest target, he then takes a sweet wrapper and
screws it tightly in his dirty hand. The noise is interesting and
attracts those who have not yet been drained of their natural
curiosity - he waits to see who will play. The rustling noise is a
temptation, he knows this well, most have long become wise to his sick
game but he is unrelenting in his determination to find a victim. A
youngster with little understanding of life here reached tentatively
to take his offering last time, she was rewarded with a deep burn from
his lighted cigarette which he stubbed hard into her arm, I retched in
horror at her anguish and cries of pain; a cocktail of singed hair and
burning flesh hung in the air, a stark reminder to trust no one here.
My thoughts turn once more to my beloved daughter, she was caught
along with me many months ago, had I known the future then for
us...for her, I would surely have killed her myself for to have done
so would have been an act of the greatest mercy borne out of love and
compassion; a final gift from me. She used to call for me, pleading
for me to respond, her cries of desperation echoing along the long
empty corridors. I could not answer for to have done so would have
given her hope, of that there is none. It has been a while since I
last heard her voice, maybe she has been moved elsewhere, perhaps she
is already...
Three Home Office officials visited a while back, inspections of this
kind are classed as "of a highly sensitive nature", not to be
announced in advance. This visit as with all past inspections was well
advertised, its failure to expose the truth will not be, the report
that will be compiled on return to their government buildings will not
affect my welfare nor improve any of the conditions here, the whole
affair was a sham. This is a procedure invented solely to appease
those who raise concerns about the genuine need for our incarceration
here, a must for the genocide to continue unabated and unhindered.
Recommendations and improvements have no place here, they are merely
ideals to which no one wishes to aspire, the world must not know the
truth, the real reason for our detention, we must remain hidden at all
costs to protect the greatest lie of all time. We are all lost forever
in a cesspit of pulsating greed, pressing and churning to extract
every last element - this is "science". We are mere products in a
hidden market of corruption and deceit, passing silently through on a
journey filled with confusion, fear and pain, the destination meets
with our ruthless destruction. There is only one constant here - one
certainty, we will all die, not one of us will survive. We only wait
and wonder not if but when our turn will come. I pray that they will
hasten that day...
A primate in an vivisection laboratory... anywhere.
In memory of James who died in Huntington Life Sciences, Princeton,
New Jersey. Lest we forget.
The account that you have read is seen through the eyes of a female
monkey. The truth cannot be disputed, for I like so many others have
been inside a vivisection laboratory and witnessed the horrors
therein. It is our duty then, to be the voice of the voiceless; to
tell their story. We can do nothing for the millions who have already
succumbed to the horrors, but we can make a difference for all those
who remain.
No animal in a laboratory is afforded a name, that would be foolhardy,
the vivisectionists know this well. It would bestow upon all non-human
animals an identity, an acknowledgement of their importance, their
worth. This would lead to a natural progression whereby all sentient
beings would find their "own place" in society and at last have
"animal rights". No questions need to be asked as to why the proposed
"Freedom of Information Act" is so vehemently opposed by the
Vivisection Industry. Were it to become law, all animal experiments
would be seen for what they are: evil, futile and repetitive...
Anarchy would ensue!
Please join Animal Aid in the campaign against the proposed Cambridge
primate research labs.
http://www.animalaid.org.uk/campaign/vivi/cambridge.htm
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