Any encounter with death will undoubtedly empower you, change you, transform your perspective on life.
‘Twas a quiet Friday evening. My roommates were either working or off at a pumpkin carving party. I was all nestled in on my couch in the living room with a book, enjoying an evening to myself.
Now, I had known that there was a mouse in the house. Roommate Kristen had set a mouse trap earlier that day.
I don’t usually get scared when I’m home alone at night. That’s generally because I have every light in the house on. Light is comforting. However, nothing would prepare me for this night.
I was reading on the couch, minding my own business when I heard a rustling noise coming from the kitchen. My heart leapt into my brain for a moment in time. No one is home. Who could that possibly be? Oh poopie, there is someone in my house. I held my breath, waiting to hear it again. Silence. Don’t worry Hopie, it’s probably a squirrel on the roof.
I went back to my book. Not five minutes later, the rustling continued. If I ignore it, it will just go away. There’s some insight into how I may or may not deal with conflict. I stared down at my page as hard as I could, determined to let nothing ruin my night. Out of nowhere came a bewildering SNAP CRACKLE POP immediately followed by a squeak, a squeal and a squawk. To say that I about shit myself would be an understatement.
So this is what it sounds like to die.
I imagined that it had broken its neck and would die within seconds. I waited for the poor thing to stop hollering. Finally, the house fell silent again. I tip toed towards the kitchen and slowly peered my head around the corner. I knew the trap was on the top shelf in the pantry. From where I was, I couldn’t see anything. It didn’t matter if it was dead, I was scared to look. As I crept closer, I heard it skitter around, trying to break free. The squeaking and squealing and squawking continued. I ran back in to the living room, desperate to escape the horror.
This is ridiculous. I’m being a pansy, it’s just a mouse… but it is a dying mouse… and strangely, it won’t die… maybe it’s a zombie mouse. It is Halloween…
Suddenly, the tiny squeaks burst into a wailing scream. What in tarnation! It’s not done yet?! Frick, my neighbors are going to call the cops on me for domestic violence.
Strangely, the source of the wailing scream started moving at a rapid pace down what seemed to be the side of our house. Oh no. Maybe it died and now it’s rising again, seeking its revenge. How could Kristen do this? We are monsters. And now we’ve created a monster.
It turned out to be my neighbor’s broken A/C belt in their car. Whew. False alarm.
Anyway, the mouse just would not stop squeaking. How long is death supposed to take? I hope I go quicker than this guy. I would never be able to return to my book until this was taken care of. I called on my roommates to get a boy and come help me. A few minutes later, they arrived to take care of business. The trap had gotten poor the thing’s tail and back leg. We had to just put it out of its misery.