They Don’t Know Us

“Humans will always be afraid of what they don’t know. We will always be enemies. If you will just let me--”

“Stop it!” Jeera’s dark, liquid eyes glittered in the night air and her whiskers visibly trembled in anger.

Meem shook his head, a static burst of mirthless laughter dredging out of him. “You of all people know. It is the way of the world, the strong survive and the weak die. We can’t survive without food.”

Jeera glared at Meem. “Don’t you think I know that? It never leaves my mind that I have to feed my children somehow. Anyhow.”

Meem leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering with intensity. “Then feed them and stop bullshitting.”

Jeera shook her head. “I refuse to break their trust in us. We are guests in--”

Meem growled in frustration. “In human terms, a guest is someone who is invited. Were you?”

“We can’t live on the scraps on the waste bin.” Seeing the light of protest in Jeera’s eyes, Meem changed tack. “If only she didn’t throw off the waste bin before we can rummage, it would have been enough, but it’s not.” Meem took a deep breath. “There’s a bag of oats in the cabinet.”

Even before he finished, Jeera shook her head. “We have lived in peace with them, I refuse to break their trust--”

Meem walked out, the hairs on his body vibrating with rage. Jeera sighed. Meem was right. They had to feed their children somehow. But the woman threw out the waste before they could get to it. With just a few hours before dawn, Jeera decided to raid the waste bin.

Lines of her furry body taut with anticipation and tingles of fear, Jeera scampered down the stairs towards the kitchen. Contrary to what she’d told Meem, Jeera knew what would happen if she was caught. Grinding her teeth to hold back her anger, she considered the sour relationship between mice and humans. If only things were different, humans had a lot to benefit from animals. Now, only cute animals like dogs and cats were well treated by humans. Still, despite their cuteness, some humans wouldn’t hesitate to hurt them.

Perhaps, Meem was right and she was only deceiving herself with the promise of a better world where humans and animals could live side by side without animals being hunted and killed.

Jeera’s breath caught at the picture of such existence in her head. No, Meem was wrong. If they tried, they could make it happen.

For the sake of her children and the coming generation, she had to believe.

Jeera rounded the corner and spotted the kitchen ahead. Resolutely, she kept her eyes averted from the big box with its bag of oats and climbed the counter. She took one step forward when a shrill scream split the air. Jeera’s heart leaped to her throat and she froze in fear. She was caught and death was imminent.

What would happen to her children?

She wished she could speak the human language and explain to the woman. She was only here for food from the waste bin. Perhaps the woman had children and could understand Jeera’s desperation.

All these thoughts flitted through her mind but Jeera could only stare unblinking. When the woman didn’t move, hope sidled like a snake through her mind. Without taking her eyes off the woman, Jeera moved. She nearly fell off the counter, caught herself and changed directions. An intense, blistering blast of heat hit her, dragging her attention from the woman. With a loud hiss, Jeera ran away from the stove.

She cursed her stupidity silently. She had been so focused on her argument with Meem she hadn’t noticed the stove with the kettle on top.

She could have avoided this confrontation.

The woman threw something and Jeera took off. The object landed so close it brushed her body. She dove under a big box and waited, heart pounding, fear a big, bad taste in her mouth.

Jeera waited until the woman left and raced back to their hiding place emptyhanded.

Meem took one look at her wild eyes and fear-drenched features and burst into laughter.

“I thought the human invited you for tea,” he said sarcastically.

Jeera leaned down to catch her breath, too relieved at her narrow escape to reply. Her limbs trembled from a combination of hunger and the chase.

One of her children scampered forward. Jeera took one look at their gaunt figure and knew she had to go back.

“You know if we don’t get something, the hunger will affect our thinking then we might begin to eat ourselves.”

Jeera gasped in fear.

Meem shook his head. “That’s the difference between us. I live in the light of reality, while you choose to remain blind in your fantasies.”

The thought of eating her own kind left her ill.

Beneath the pounding of her heart and the sickness in her gut, a coil of anger unwound, leaving Jeera breathless. Suddenly it was too much.

She would hurt the woman before she’d eat her own kind.

It was a petty form of revenge but that was all she had.

The next night, she didn’t bother taking the long road to the waste bin. Fear of eating her children drove her to the cabinet. She ripped open the bag of oats. Later she watched in satisfaction as her people ate.

She refused to meet Meem’s eyes. Jeera wasn’t ready to see him gloat. The anger wouldn’t leave her. She couldn’t forgive the woman for making her sacrifice her principles.

Minutes later, she made her way to the woman’s room. To do what? Jeera had no idea but went anyway.

Early the following day, Jeera rose. Meem stared at her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Jeera turned away from his piercing gaze. “Nowhere.”

Meem caught her hand. “Stop it. We have food now, stop it.”

Jeera swallowed. “Just this once.”

As she made her way up the stairs to the woman’s room, she had no idea what she would do, but she couldn’t make herself stop.

She wiggled under the door until she stood inside the room. Jeera stared at the woman as she slept. No doubt, her stomach was full, her body warm, and fear the farthest thing from her mind.

Jeera’s lips twisted bitterly. Why would she fear when she was in no danger of eating her own children because hunger pangs deemed it fit to render her mad?

Suddenly, the woman muttered something in her sleep and turned over. Jeera stopped breathing. The woman opened her eyes. Unerringly, across the distance, mice eyes met human’s.

As they stared at each other, Jeera could almost believe they weren’t all that different. They both needed food and shelter. And they both experienced fear.

As she watched, anger took the place of the fear in the woman’s eyes. And as Jeera held her gaze across the distance spanning sense, culture, taxonomy, and class, she knew the woman would kill her. Slowly and painfully.

She released a breath, turned and made her way to her people.

The woman screamed.

This is fantasy. If it wasn't obvious, I love animals. I wonder at their innocence and try to guess what they are thinking. So when @whatsup arranged this unusual contest -- writing a story from a mouse's point of view, I couldn't resist. I still wish some parts of this story were true.

Thank you