Little Mouse

July 9, 2011
By PalomaJ BRONZE, Portland, Maine
PalomaJ BRONZE, Portland, Maine
4 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"People haven't always been there for me, but music always has" -Taylor Swift

Have you ever seen a dying mouse? That accidentally nipped on some rat poison? The poison that was reserved for the rat.
I have.
I pushed the door of the guest room, and in the most unexpected event, was a faint squeak. I thought its tail had been tangled in the doorway, so I maneuvered the door to free its tail. But in reality, its tail wasn’t being harmed, it entire fragile body was.
I cradled this breathing piece of fur in a marine blue towel, and told it

“You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay”

I pulled over a second towel over it, as if I was tucking it into bed.
I cried. Because I had a weak spot for the toughness of life. I refused to accept the fate of this little mouse. The mouse was spluttering and shaking, its little pink hands and feet were quivering.
I looked up.
“Hi God, I don’t normally believe in you. But I do now. Please help me”
I resorted to desperation, speaking to a higher power for this little mouse. Its beady eyes were squinting, and the light reflected on it, revealing microscope beads of tears.
The mouse was crying.
“I won’t let you die in the house. I’ll set you free little mouse”
I rushed to my bedroom, found a wooden box, poured the contents of the box on my bed, and went back to the guestroom. I was afraid of the mouse, and I knew the mouse was very afraid of me. But because it was so weak, it could not move on its own. Therefore, I rolled the mouse on the towel and tucked it into the box.
I had to be quick. Down the stairs past the living room. My family was in the kitchen, so I was lucky. If they had asked me what was in the box, and I didn’t reply them, they would get suspicious. If they found I was holding a mouse, their noses would cringe in disgust. And I don’t want anyone being disgusted at this little mouse.
I walked to the field, past the garden.
“You belong in the field, you’re a field mouse”
In the shade the mouse was shaking uncontrollably, its limbs were jerking. I could feel its pulse through my finger tips. I was meant to leave it in the field to die. But I couldn’t.
“I won’t let you die in the field, the hawks will probably come and eat you little mouse”
So back in the box it went. I walked to the grass lawn that was far enough away from the house.
“You belong with nature, look at the amazing view you have”
It was true, the green trees that loomed above and the green grasses that hugged the little mouse, were beautiful. Its eyes had opened wide suddenly and it opened its mouth, gasping for air. Its tail was flicking around wildly. But then it went quiet, breathing steady painful breaths.
I carried the mouse to my club house.
“You don’t belong with humanity, but I’ll stay beside you”
And so I waited. What was I waiting for?
It was a spectacular day. The bright sun and blue sky. A whispering breeze of summer crowded the club house. If only this little mouse had lived today, just to taste this beautiful day one last time. Two hours later, I was still waiting. Slower the mouse became, the quieter the mouse became. And this is what I said:
“You’re going to a better place. You’re so lucky. And if you’ve been a good mouse, you’ll be incarnated into a human. Maybe we’ll even meet! Wouldn’t that be cool?”
The mouse twitched violently. I pet its brown fur. I started to cry
“It’s not fair! I’ve got so many years ahead of me to live. But you won’t last till nightfall! It’s so unfair”
And with that, I decided I wasn’t going to wait all day, I had to face the fact that this mouse was going to die, and I had no power to change that. So I had one last spot for this mouse.
I took the mouse to a bed of flowers. I pushed some of the floors away and made a bed of dirt. I placed the little mouse upon the dirt bed.
“You don’t belong here. Look, it’s a straight shot to heaven”
It was true; above there was only blue skies and clouds.
“When I’m buried I want to be in the middle of a thousand flowers. You’re so lucky little mouse”
The mouse was whimpering which left my soul torn and my heart wrenched. But I needed to do this. I needed to walk away, and I did. And when I looked back, I couldn’t see the mouse anymore. It had suddenly become just a garden of flowers again, and the little mouse that had changed my view on life and death, was gone.

The author's comments:
This mouse died for the hatred, fear and mistake of humanity. How could something so small conjure so much sorrow?

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