The Difference Between Two Worlds

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

What can seem like a common manageable problem, isn't such a simple process from the perspective of another world. (Welcoming of feedback and critic)

The Difference Between Two Worlds.

The sun was hot, shinning on her back and warming her small grey whiskers which calmed her fragile nerves. She was tired but content because this was the day her small children began to leave the nest. Quickly she scattered forwards, down the cool brick path way that served as a garden bed. She smelt food ahead, passing through the blots of shade dimpled in the trees as she raced across the grass, fast but unheard of, as the saying went. She could see the house was quiet today but the yard was never so. Always the chase went on. The yard was her home so she would always have to fight for her food living here. What compensated for her easy food source living in this yard was the terrible creature, with no such mercy at all in its heart, the cat.
Zig zagging left and right, under a bushy tree then through the burrow in the ground where everything was dark, quiet and safe, she emerged inside the nesting ground the humans call an avery, where that familiar cooing could be heard up close. She wasn’t scared. These creatures were all white ruffling wings with bloaty chests that chuckled as the males cooed to and forth, showing them much more obsessed with their social nonsense than the business of mice. They tittered endlessly with themselves so clueless as she rushed up the cage that the birds who were breeding were nurturing young within. On top of the nesting cage was where the humans left the seed which was her life support. In two large dishes, a pile of golden seed smiled in the day light but the little mouse was caught dead in her tracks.
It wasn’t the birds that frightened her, it was its own young that were feasting at the food bowl that made her halt. They had gotten here much quicker than her, but she was an old mouse. She had already seen others die at the paws of the cat.  She knew the quickest way which was safest to get to the feast. This was knowledge that she had obtained by living through a few generations and she thought she had exampled to her children well, but their quickness at getting here meant only one thing- they were taking some sort of suicide route.
She arrived to them angrily communicating, how mice do, that they have done wrong. She had limited abilities to communicate but next time when they left the nest she would want them to follow and they would realise the reason she was angry. This is due to connecting the two moments of behavioural pattern change. So once she had made her point she was angry towards her children, all that stealth she decided deserved an indulge, so the little mother mouse enjoyed a good feed with her children, safe, for now.
The days went on proving her family was devout as they changed their direction by taking her route to the food source. This way they could avoid all possibilities of being sighted by the cats and just for extra precautions, the humans. She enabled her family to grow healthy and more vigorously than any of the other mice in the neighbourhood. This is because of her caution and their food source.
Often her children squeaked but days went on and she taught them that was risky as well. She understood things she realised, as she rapidly got older, that no other mouse she had encountered understood. Desperately she would pass these things onto her children, so they could help further their species better to protect themselves, in this strange fear-filled world she was created in.
Only this day when she reached her little burrow in the ground, already her children having gone on without her to the feeding source as she became slower getting older, she heard the sound of running water. Because she was last in line to get to the cage she was able to witness her precious children, scattered for the wind over the grass where she heard noises screamed out ferociously by the human,
GET IT, THERE, GO TIGER, YEAH BUDDY, THAT’S IT, RIP IT TO SHREDS, YOU TOO BUSTER!” This dog she realised, she had only seen once because it was kept separately from the cat, in the front yard normally for safety purposes of Tiger. This human seemed to know though, that Buster had a much more tempting game to play then to hurt his cat this time. By sticking a hose down their burrow that led into the nesting grounds of these pigeon creatures, she watched her family being flushed out into the dog’s jaws.
Then as some managed to escape, she watched the cat take care of them, pelting forward as all of its instincts were taking control. It didn’t stop at one dead little baby that it caught in its jaws and gnawed to death, it went around pouncing on them all, ripping them to pieces.
The little mother mouse had scattered up her bush where she could hide and then bear witness to her children run in all the wrong directions. This was hard but she would watch. Quickly she observed that this was planned. All the doors had been pulled off the pigeon cage. The white cooing creatures that were luckily born as they were, beautiful and domesticated unlike this mouse, jealous of them as she would forever be deemed vermin, watched them flutter to where they perched in the surrounding trees and on the roof. They were looking at the carnage below but only they had nothing to fear. Buster and Tiger were trained not to attack the homing pigeons.
She heard growling and then a horrific squealing like nothing she recognised throughout her life so far. One or two of her young slipped under the fence but now they would be lost or exposed to danger just as equal to this. The little mouse had known fear but she almost thought she didn’t recognise this feeling, her heart hammering in her ears, her breath caught in her throat. The human boy was already jumping over the fence with a large stick in his hand connected to a brush he probably planned on brushing her babies into the other world with. She heard a few loud thumps, saw the fence shake, didn’t even hear a scream this time but she saw the humans head bob, a large ball of short black hair with the stick still poking out behind him.
The dog continued to growl and pounce on anything that moved, leaving bodies wherever he ran along with a trail of bright red blood that looked like rubies glittering on the grass. When it was too hard to watch any longer, the little mouse bolted from her bush and tried to go home. She knew though that this was a gamble from the start but fear and even unidentifiable emotions clouded her extent of judgment.
When she reached the wall where they could burrow within, there was a trap placed in its path. She knew this was a trap because she had seen its jaws snap at her former accomplices and learned. Turning around, the little mouse was never given a chance to find a new home. That large stick and brush whisked through the air, slamming down onto her old body. What she thought was a little human girl, with pig tails, a pudgy rounded face, pouty lips, green tights and a candy pink jumper, merged into something evil. A darkness consumed her vision to a point where the only thing to be seen were two flaming black red eyes roaring out at her. Heat washed over her body and the little mouse only knew two things; pain and fear. For a moment she understood the image she died facing. Those flames, the darkness, the relentless heat, it was a representation of all the pain and fear she had lived through.  Was there ever a way things could be different? Only this little mouse would never know, before she reunites with her children.

“Daniel, get out of the neighbour’s yard!”
“But mum, there’s a mouse, I’ve gotta kill it!”
“You leave it alone! Get here, now!” One was still loose running around as he swept the dead one into a spot where it would decay unseen. Daniel reluctantly jumped over the fence knowing the neighbours would probably complain about his pigeons now if they see mice. 
“Why are you letting Maranda near those things? I don’t care if you do it but she’s a little girl!” His mum yelled at him as her first way of speaking to him getting home tired and flustered from work.
“Ugh, Maranda, give me the broom.” Daniel walked over to her and snatched it from her hand. His mum and sister can be such a drag sometimes, he thought grudgingly to himself.
“And worse, get tiger and Buster away from those dirty things. You want to drive mice out? Move the cage somewhere they can’t get in. You can be very reckless sometimes, what if the animals get sick now from touching those diseased filthy creatures?” She went on but suddenly Daniel lost track of her words while she rounded up the dog and cat to put inside. He was looking at the mouse his little sister had squished. She was braver than most girls, this he already knew and as much as it could’ve “gotten her sick” as his mother would have put it, from chasing around vermin, he was not about to object to what she’d done. The mouse she had killed was bigger than the rest of them so this signified it was the mum of the pack. Dead now, he thought, finally unable to continue plaguing his bird cage with however many litters she’s dumped into his budget for feeding. This made him very satisfied while he got some gloves to do the job of picking up little mice bodies. 

Submitted: April 05, 2016

© Copyright 2023 Ateisha. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



Wow. The ending was not was I expected. I actually had to re-read it to make sure that I understood it. Great work.

Wed, March 15th, 2017 2:27am


Thank you :)

Sun, August 27th, 2017 7:48am

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