Squirrel Story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I witnessed a squirrel tragedy on my way to work...

Submitted: December 30, 2011

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Submitted: December 30, 2011

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On my way to school, I saw two squirrels.

Miss Squirrel kept fidgeting in front of a thick bush. Sir Squirrel was stuck into that bush unable to move.

Far from here, the sound of a chainsaw could be heard, dangerously getting closer.

Miss Squirrel became hysterical. She uttered a series of little sounds that meant nothing but how worried she were.

Sir Squirrel was trying to set free, but the bonds were tighter as he tried. He finally gave in to panic, fatigue, and quit.

He laid there, still, like a contortionist trapped in a box..

His round eyes fell onto his beloved who had frozen. She was terrified by the unfolding of the situation.

Sir Squirrel couldn't stand the sight of her distress. A surge of pride overwhelmed him and he fiercely tried to cheat death, burning his last bit of strength...

 

But he quickly stopped.  

 

A sharp branch had pierced through his abdomen, and blood was now spilling upon the red roses carpeting the ground.

He couldn't breath properly and each second hurt like hell.

They exchanged a long, intense look, losing themselves into each other.

Miss Squirrel had understood the cruel reality. She was witnessing the last moments of her half...

After a couple of minutes, Sir squirrel got ripped apart by the chainsaw. His viscera scattered on the floor in front of his beloved.

She lost it, flew into rage, and started at the chainsaw like a furry seeking for revenge.

Her death rattle hung into the air, freezing time and space.

Very soon, an other bloody rain fell onto the rug of flowers, making its natural color even more intense.

 

Standing there, in front of the crystal-red rug,

The chainsaw man nodded at me. I nodded back without any animosity.

He wasn't the one guilty. I was.

I could have stopped him with a single wave. But I didn't.

Why? Maybe because I had nothing to gain from saving two squirrels. Maybe because I was enjoying the show.

Did I feel bad about that? Feeling bad about that sadistic person I had become? So selfish that I didn't prevent a massacre because of a lack of “motivation”?

Not really.

Instead I convinced myself that this sad squirrel story was just an other sad story. An other tragedy among many others in a forgetful world.

Impassive, I went my way hoping to have a good day.

 

By Bicket Moon


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