Staring At The Face Of Death (A Mouse Tells His Tale)

This is my version of the events @whatsup narrated in her post I Have To Burn Down The House. here, I am narrating the events from the mouse’s perspective. Enjoy.

Two Weeks Ago

I had just come from the local Shermn where I learnt I would meet my doom very soon. The news had a tiring effect on me so I really needed to get back home. I knew it wasn’t safe but at that time, I had very little thoughts for self-preservation. On my way home, in my deep reflection, I lost my way and came across a house. It looked empty so I strolled in and went to the kitchen, hoping to find something that would cheer me up. The love of my life had just given me up to the Slake The Snake. The end for me was near.

All of a sudden, I heard a shriek that jolted me to my bones. The Sherman had mentioned that my doom would be dramatic but not like this. My first reaction was to run, run far from it all. But no! I decided to face my assailant. If I was going to meet my doom, I was going to do it as bravely as I could. I lifted myself on my legs and turned to face the face of death.

The face death chose was that of a woman who looked like she was the one meeting my doom. I didn’t understand. Maybe it was showing me the proper expression as opposed to my calm inquistive stare. The hands were frozen in mid air. I heard the clock measure the beat in my heart. The floor vibrated as death’s heart (if he/she had one) pounded the floor with its thumping. We stood there, both of us. Just as I tried to move a move muscle, I saw it twitch.

I guessed I had braved death enough. I still cannot believe I am telling this tale. I decided to run out of the room but then I realised I didn’t want to die like those mice I often pass by on the way. I wanted to die with dignity. I wanted to turn the other direction but I felt the heat coming from the pot. I have not lived a very righteous life. I was not sure if I would make heaven, but I didn’t want to find out by passing through hell.

It was then I heard the shriek again. This time, I wasn’t as frightened as the last. Perhaps this was a game, perhaps only the brave get to live. Perhaps it even couldn’t see me. The last one made sense to me. I have heard of mystical creatures that fed off people’s fear. I wasn’t going to show any fear. I wasn’t even going to pretend like it was in the room. If I would die, I would die full of bravery.

The first attack came swiftly in the form of a thrown cheese grater. Surely, death was an experienced one. Instead of aiming directly at me, the target was the coffee pot. Of course, the recoil was so close I knew it was a warning. If also confirmed my suspicion. Death couldn’t see, it was trying to locate me through my fear. The antics, the shierks, the throw… everything was done for me to express fear.

I knew I had to think first, but I couldn’t do it out in the open. I ran for cover under the microwave oven. There, I called on my gods and chanted my mantra. I had just had a face off with death. I wonder what felicia would think of me after hearing my tale. I decided to scurry to my hole and celebreate the extra shot at life. After all, when there’s life, there’s hope.

## Yesterday

I had just leant that the Sherman was a sham. Even worsse, he was the bastard Felicia was hanging out with. The plan was to make me either run away from the town, lose my senses or even commit suicide. At that point, I wasn’t bothered anymore. But a thought kept nagging at the back of my head. If the woman (I’m now sure she’s a woman) I met in that house wasn’t death, then who was she? There was only one way to find out.

I arrived at the house only to find it empty. Well, this was my opportunity. So I began to roam the roomss trying to find out as much information as I could about my assailant. I was in the third room when I saw her. I knew she couldn’t see; she could only sense my fear. So I poked out my head and take a quick look at her. I heardd her scream and I knew I had to run. I ran to the other side of the room and hide under the bed.

## Today

I’m on my way back to the house. I think this woman will be the unbdoing of me. It doesn''t matter. The love of my life has already done the worse to me. I have braved fear and succeded. What is a woman to a mouse?

This is my entry for the The Other side Of the Story... Writing by @whatsup

Thanks for reading.

Blessings

[Image source: Pixabay]

[Image source: Pixabay]