A long time ago there once was a chicken, but he was no ordinary chicken. Even as an egg his parents knew there was something different about him. When he hatched and as he got older this difference became more and more appartent. He shyed away from all the other young chicks and seemed to have no interest in the stables of chicken life. He failed terribly at chucking and could never get the hang of pecking at the dirt on the ground. The other parents would be so proud of their little adolesent chickens, chucking and pecking at a grade A standard, this made our chicken's parents embarassed and they would give out to him saying, 'Why aren't you like the others, maybe if you just tryed to do the same things as they do you would be accepted'. Our story's chicken was a good little chicken and as such he did as his parents said and tired to be normal for their sake.
Around the same time as our chicken was chucking and pecking despite his own wishes, a little boy was just about to begin something new. It was his very first day at school. He stood in his bright blue uniform with grey slacks as his fussing mother, acting not unlike a chicken herself, cleaned his cheeks here and took a picture there. His uniform was so new and stiffened that it gave him the appearance of a steroid addicted weightlifter, the wool had yet to get used to his scrawny body. He wanted so much to make his Mom and Dad proud and he had thought to himself that school would be the place to do it. he was not the strongest little boy, even his fully laden school bag on his back meant that he had to use the weight of head to ensure he could stand upright; this meant when he was walking or standing still, he was always leaning 30degrees forwards. This lack of strenght meant he was not very good at sport like his brothers and sisters, so knew school was his chance to shine. He hopped on the school bus, leaving his teary eyed mother waving through the dust that the bus had kicked up as it pulled away, he thought; this is it, time to make an impression.
The chicken tried his hardest and for a while things were going good, he didn't make any real friends but his parents were happy, the happier he made them though the sadder he was. He just wasn't being true to himself. This little chicken had a gift, or maybe a curse, he could speak English. It went misunderstood by the rest of the chickens. sometimes they would say 'Chuck!' and he would reply 'H-E-L-L-O' back before he swiftly realised his mistake and 'chuck' instead. He found also that pecking at the ground did not bring him the satifaction that his parents had hoped. He would drift off and think about his existence, as a chicken. To peck or not to peck, that was his question. He grew weary. He forged a plan in his chicken mind to escape and explore the wider world. To experience things in a way he knew only his chicken eyes could. He would leave the next day, just after dark, while the rest sleeped.
School did not go to plan. The other children seemed to find something new everyday to mock him with. The boy knew what his major difficulty was; he was too average. Not smart enough to be a nerd and not cool enough to be a jock. Not ugly enough to be interesting, even to look at, and not handsome enough for the girls to notice. He wandered about aimlessly. He felt as a ghost must, trying his best to get noticed but people almost didn't realise he existed. This was not going to plan. He began to picture his future, he would end up working in some random cubicle, selling a random product over the phone to some random person. He would live in a small apartment alone, except for the collection of cats that he kept for company, even though he could see in they're eyes that would leave if he didn't supply the food and water. This was not going to plan at all. He would change the next day, he thought hard about how to become interesting and settled on being a goth, he knew at 5year old goth would get attention, he donned white make-up, just after dark, while the rest sleeped.
The Cock made his usual morning call, and the day begun as it had done for hundreds of sun rises before then. It wasn't until just after noon that he was noticed missing. His parents felt alot of emotions, but the winner in the battle for their hearts was ultimately embarrasment. He was at least six hours chicken walk
speed from his home by now. He thought he might feel regret and chicken out of it (so to speak) at about 2 hours in but he didn't. He felt truly free for the first time since he escaped from that sealed pod of an egg. He felt now the same exhilaration as he did then when he gasped for his first breath through the cracks in the shell. He felt alive but anxious, he felt unprotected but strong. He walked and explored every bend and curve in his path. He spoke English to every creature he met but none replied, so he stopped and simply enjoyed watching them and noting their behaviour. He noticed something strange in the distance, something his eyes had not ever seen before. The only way his mind could describe it was as a strange straightness. He made his way towards it.
At breakfast, the family stared for an incredibly awkward lenght of time as he chewed his cornflakes. He ignored it and in turn they chose to ignore it. His black jacket went down to his ankles and his skin was as white as a coked up polar bear taking a turn for the worse. This would work, he was only five and had grown less than three feet making him resemble a type of penguin in his new garb, by god people would notice. He waited by the bus stop as he did every monotonous morning after every monotonous morning. He spotted something through his black eye-lined eyes in the distance. It was moving very slowly and it was either miles away or was absolutely tiny. He waited. He watched and waited. Eventually there it was. Staring at him from the opposite side of the road, a Chicken. He stood looking at this strange creature standing in front of him, it was black from head to toe except for a brilliantly white face, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He walked closer mesimerised. He reached it's side and looked at it. This was not what the boy was expecting, when he wanted to be noticed. He did not expect this. This was a shocker. The curious chicken was just staring at him. So he stood good few feet back from him and asked more or less to himself, "Why did you come here?!". He had waited, the chicken, for all of his existence for this moment. Finally a creature who would be able to understand him. Oh, the long conversations they would have together, Oh, the questions he would finally get answered. He cleared his throat, "ahem, to get to this place, to get here, to get to you, to get to this sid........................................................................................................................... the bus hit him and he felt nothing anymore. The boy looked at where the chicken had been, now there was nothing but a cloud of slowly decending feathers, they floated gently to the ground, beads of blood stained their natural whiteness in a most unnatural way. The bus driver barked at him to take his seat, so he did. He was still in shock and if he had removed the makeup he would still have as white a face. He kept muttering,"to get to the other side", the young boy next to him on the bus asked, "wha happen to you freak?", the boy told him, "I asked this chicken why he crossed the road? He said to get to the other side". The other boy laughed. And so a legend had began, that ladies and lads is the true tale of the great joke.
