The Room With a Cage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
A political short story, hopefully your more intelligent than a half brain dead monkey to understand the thousands of parallels and references I crafted into the story.

Submitted: June 06, 2008

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Submitted: June 06, 2008



The Room with a Cage

A blind and deaf woman lay quietly in a cage. The room smelt subtly of burning sage, to cover the stench of scandal and death. Her blood is red, skin a pale white, and her veins are an opaque blue. All is quiet, and there is no plight from the quiet woman, as she lay as dormant as an Arizonan volcano. However, there is a feint rapping. Just a quiet tapping across the thirteen bars on one side of the cubed cage. Thirteen bars of cold, hard, non-polished , gray steel. Thirteen bars on each side of the cage, except for above and below, which is covered by a solid steel plate. On the corner , there was a mouse filled with rage. He was tapping on the cage, squealing louder than a roaring lion, struggling to get a hold of the blind woman's attention. But alas, the mouse came to deaf ears and blind eyes, as the woman lays there, quietly, with not but a quick flinch of movement. A brass doorknob attached to a door around four feet behind the mouse slowly started to twist, and the oak door finally became ajar. A bright, but oddly menacing light shone threw the crack, and an old man slipped through, quietly, but very conspicuously. The man really had no face or identity which was easily distinguished, but he had a face that you seem to recognize regardless of the fact of never meeting him in the past. He had gray hair with matching gray goatee covering a stern and wrinkled face. A face beaten by time and aggravation. He possessed a red tie, a white dress shirt, and sparkling blue eyes, all wrapped up in a black suit, and for some reason, it seems odd that he is not wearing a tall hat. He also seems to have a brotherly aura about him, one that makes you think he is always watching you-even when he seems to not be around. He walks at a steady pace towards the mouse, his dress shoes making his presence obvious as the clanking echoed off of the blank white walls in the dark room. After he directly positions himself behind the mouse, he squats down. His presence known to the mouse, yet the mouse continues to squeal, facing towards the blind woman, trying with every last breath to bring the woman's attention towards the brotherly figure behind him.. The man then points at the mouse, his index finger erect, and then jabs the mouse in the back. The mouse squeaks for a second, and looks back to see the gentleman behind it. Still squealing for the woman's attention, but still facing towards fellow, it's eyes in a deadlock with the man's starry blue eyes. He starts to get irritated and then aggressively jabs the mouse on it's snout with his still erect finger, but the mouse still keeps squealing. The man's face fills with a scarlet rage, this time screaming at the top of his voice, making it known that this is his last warning, the mouse's last plight- the mouse's final word, or, squeal... The man looks at the mouse, and for the first and last time, he speaks to the mouse. He screamed “I want YOU to stop, or I'll make sure your last breath will be within the next thirty seconds!” The mouse then was silent. It looked up at the man, turned away, stared at the woman, and cried with more passion than any living being could possibly cry. It wept, squealed, and banged it's little paws on the thirteen steel bars, doing anything and everything in it's powers to grab the deaf and blind woman's attention. However, the woman lied there, motionless, engrossed in it's own thoughts, too blind and too deaf to know what's going on. The man then smiled, picked up his fist, and crushed it on top of the mouse. A spine smashing blow with each vertebrae audibly snapping. The man picked up his fist and stood up, brushed off his pants and straightened out his jacket. He then noticed a single tear falling down from the mouse's eyes, and as soon as it hit the ground, the woman twitched. The man gawked, frightened that the woman might move again. He waited for several minutes, what seemed like hours, but alas, the woman lay motionless. The man smiled, content with his work, and then slipped away from the dark room that smelt of sage. Through the crack of the door, out of the room with the woman in the cage she could not see. Content that he will never see that mouse again.

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