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May

9

Move Out From The Perspective Of The Mouse In My Room

Written by

A brave young mouse, descending to new floors

Last week, Bwogger Lucy Danger found a mouse in her room. The following is a short narrative from the perspective of said mouse, herefore known as “Mickey.”

She found me for the first time last week.

I’ve been around all year, mostly hiding in the walls behind the pipes. I stay in Brooks, because it’s older and easier to get around. I’ve gone from floor to floor before, but always ended up back on the 4th floor – it’s the comfiest; the rooms are smaller but the space is made up for in the walls.

Anyway, I liked their room a lot when I did come out of the wall for food or to stretch my legs. There was almost always a Goldfish cracker or two on the floor to munch on (I think that’s the only thing the blonde one eats). And one of them started staying mostly at her boyfriend’s place, leaving extra room for me.

But one day, I wasn’t careful enough. It was quiet in the room, had been for hours. I thought nobody was there, so I crept out around the corner and began sniffing around the recycling bin for a snack. But then I saw her, the one who’s always shouting about how gay she is. She was sitting at her desk, doing homework I think (is that what they do when they sit and look at the silver rectangle screen?) I tried to slowly back out before she saw me and did anything, but I think she saw me move. She looked over, and I hid for my life. I couldn’t do it anymore – I had to get out of there. So I booked it back around the corner and through the hole by the pipes under the bed. But it was too late. She saw me run, and I heard her scream and the door slam. How could I ever go back?

Later, a man came in and put down pieces of something, I think for me. I didn’t know what they were until I saw my old friend Roachy get stuck on one and die there, unable to move. I was right to avoid them, I thought to myself.

But now I don’t know what’s happening. I think they know I’m not really that dangerous, but they’re all leaving. The blonde one already had her parents come to put all of her things, including the Goldfish, in boxes and then wheel it out in a big cart. She hasn’t been back since Tuesday. They’re all putting their stuff in boxes and bags, except the one who saw me. She doesn’t even have any bags, I don’t think. I don’t know if that means she’s not leaving or she’s just late, but the whole thing is making me nervous.

I don’t think they know this, but I’m going to miss them. I don’t think they’re coming back. I’ve heard that the one who saw me is going to come back to a dream of a building called Plimpton. My aunt’s cousin talked to someone who lives in the walls there, and it doesn’t even sound real: there are kitchens everywhere! And six people in every room, but they call it a “suite.” I don’t know what it means, but I want to go with her. I’m bored of just sitting here alone.

I might just pack up my own suitcase and go visit my mom in Sulzberger when it gets too hot here. I don’t have any summer plans, so she might be on my case for that. But we’ll just have to see what happens in the fall.

Mickey via Pxhere

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