Objection

Mae Mua Loi didn't feel like an object. Yet, she had slowly figured out that this was, in fact, the case. She knew this by the way she seemed to exist for the sole purpose of her owners' whims, even those that seemed relatively frivolous. And by the fact that she even had owners. As she walked through the streets of Bangkok, doing tricks for a few hundred baht, she noticed how no other person seemed to have owners. Every person seemed quite free--particularly the young, lighter-skinned ones wearing backpacks--her owners' best customers.

The only logical conclusion was that she was not deserving of personhood. Mae had no choice but to make these trips. It didn't matter that her sensitive feet were cracked and hurting. It didn't matter that the city absolutely overwhelmed and confused her. She was going to get her owners the money, like it or not.

Of course, Mae Mua Loi couldn't vocalize--or even rationalize--any of this. But the transformation from a self-perceived person to an object could be seen in every aspect of her demeanor. Instead of moving with haste, eager for what may come next as she once did, she simply moved along as instructed.

The problem was, Mae Mua Loi didn't particularly like being an object. She felt like she had goals, albeit maybe not as socially complex as that of her owners. She liked meeting other elephants. She enjoyed strolling through bushes, looking for leaves and fruit to eat. In fact, those times were the only ones where she felt... normal. But those instincts were wrong. They had to be. Why else would she be in this position? Perhaps it was some sort of design flaw.

The first time she suspected she was an object was when she was a very young elephant, about three years old. She was separated from her mother by several men with sticks with nails on the end. Of course, she did not know this was the last time she would see her mother. If she had, she might have fought a little harder to be with her for even just a few moments longer, before the pain from the stabbings became too unbearable.

Instead, she did as the men seemed to want. She had learned that if she listened to commands, they would have no reason to stab her. It was a lesson she could not forget, because of the still-fresh wounds on her backside. But when she saw where she was being driven, she suddenly lost her calm sense of obedience. She was being led towards a small, wooden cage. Too small, or so she thought, to fit her elephant girth.

While it's true that few beings enjoy such confined accommodations, Mae Mui Loi had a particularly strong aversion. She began to look for an escape route when she realized that, in her panic, she hadn't noticed a rope slipping around her neck. She jerked hard, trying to pull away. The rope tightened. She noticed the men closing in on her, sticks held high. Her lungs emptied with a scream as the first jab hit her behind her back-left leg. Her eyes rolled back as she struggled to find a position of relative calm. As the second jab hit her right side and she felt another rope tighten around her, she knew she had to submit. If she would just enter the cage, maybe she would be left alone. Two holes in her thick, but sensitive, skin was enough.

Defeated, she walked towards the cage. The man with the rope around her neck pulled her forward with force. And then, a moment of calm. This didn't seem so bad to Mae. But the calm did not last for more than that moment. The next thing she knew, she was being jabbed again, this time from behind. She felt vague feelings of shock, confusion, betrayal. Had she not done what they wanted her to do? Suddenly, it was loud all around her. Men chattering was all she could hear. Soon they had ropes tied around her extremities. She felt the vibrations of one man climbing on top of the cage. And then, blinding pain from all directions. Her eyes rolled back again and she let out a low, rumbling sound that surprised even her. Her legs almost gave out as the pain seared through her body. But the vicious attack did not stop there. For three days, the men would sporadically stab her. She no longer believed they wanted her to do something for them. She didn't know what to believe. In her limited knowledge, she could imagine no reason for one being to do this to another. Towards the end of this cruel, ritualistic experiment was the first time Mae considered the possibility she was an it.

But now, walking down the streets of Bangkok, towards Mae decided she was going to listen to her instincts, no matter how inappropriate they may have been. The vibrations in her feet, the noise, the potholes--it had all become too much for her. Her giant body turned, much to the surprise of her Mahout, and she was moving away from the busy market.

She was an object. Running away. A ball rolling away from a child who never appreciated it in the first place.