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|Winston (standard:fantasy, 1102 words)|
|Author: Joe Edwardson||Added: Feb 24 2002||Views/Reads: 1886/1147||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|An old suicidal mouse takes his last walk from under the couch and comes to grip with his past.|
From under the couch, the pale gray and ancient mouse took his last walk. The years of intense observation over the actions of the Parkers has transformed his once shiny, rapid, and interested eyes into two dull orbs that sadly match the color of his beaten fur and are rarely lifted over the horizon. “Winston! Winston! What are you-“ The aged mouse named Winston heard the horrified astonishment in Yuri the termite’s voice, which came from the top of the end table; he knew the shock of what he was allowing to be done would be more than his fellow housemates could handle, but his growing apathy and absentmindedness was too much to bear. The years of wanting more than anything to step in and correct the wrongs of Mr. Parker, or to at least let his voice and feelings be heard, have been too many. “If I had only one wish, it would be to talk. Just for one day. So I could at least do something to help.” This phrase and similar thoughts go through the head of Winston continually, never ceasing for a moment, but not in the same way it once had. He once imagined and prayed to one day be blessed with the ability to stand up and make a difference in a world supposedly superior and more advanced than his own. Now all Winston can find himself thinking of is all the time wasted on this hopeless idea. “Ahhhh! Please. . . stop. . . please. . .no!” Screams impossible to describe, followed by eerie silence, the constrained weeping of a nine year old boy, and lastly the sound of a door opening, creaking, and slamming on the other side of the cozy old pastel colored two-bedroom home filled the air and nearly drowned dear old Winston. These are the horrific sounds our dejected elderly protagonist has been forced to endure for the seemingly never-ending three and a half years of his life. “Today, it is over, Yuri,” Winston slowly utters to his friend, never looking up toward him. “I. . .I just can’t believe what I’m hearing. . .what I’m seeing! Winston! You’ll be killed!” The shock remains in Yuri’s voice as he tries to reason with Winston for the first time in his life. Winston has never needed it before today. “I’ve lived a long life. I’ve thought my share of thoughts. I can’t go on like this.” “You’re being unreasonable. We need you!” Winston’s silence tells of his understanding, but his continuing final journey toward the living room is another sad proof. “That’s not much of a testament for me, Yuri. I spent my entire life teaching you and Ulysses, your wives Mona and Eden, Iris, Theodore, Virgil, and Kelsey the spiders, those box elder bugs that come around in the summers. . .countless others. . .even Enrique the snake, and Willy the cat came around to understand me. Don’t you dare tell me I’m still needed.” “Please, Winston, that’s ridiculous!” “I’ve taught you all you need to know to lead the next generation, to teach them, to be what I’ve been for so long. It’s now time for me to join my young Sylvester.” “This isn’t the way to do it! Mr. Parker will see you any second now. There’s still time to reconsider,” Yuri frantically begs of Winston. “No. If I’m meant to go on living, then somehow it’ll come to be, but I must continue,” says Winston, almost out of voice’s reach from Yuri. Yuri comes back with one last retort, and it’s a good one. “Sylvester wouldn’t have wanted this!” Winston stops in his tracks, ironically in almost the exact same place his young son, Sylvester, was brutally killed by the monstrous boot of Mr. Parker nearly two years before. The memories flood old Winston’s Click here to read the rest of this story (62 more lines)
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