I want to escape.

a rat who tries to escape.

In our country if a rat tries to escape from his family, it’s an enormous disaster. They’d torture him for years to come, deprive him of all kinds of food and they might even kill him in a public assembly; That’s the price you have to pay for being a rat.

 

And that’s the same thing they did to me. I hated school, I had no friends and I simply couldn’t find anything of real interest for me in this place.

 

Every morning I would wake up and scamper through out the allies searching for rot water Mellon or a smashed tomato.

 

 I didn’t deserve such life. I always believed that I was born for stardom, fortune and power. But no one believed me when I told them so. People thought of me as crazy for seeking a better life. They’d usually frown at me and say, “forget it. Things will remain this way forever. You’ll always be a filthy, stupid rat, living in a filthy stupid country.”

 

They kept on repeating the sentence at my face till I was about to believe it.

 

But I didn’t allow this moment to arrive.

 

One night, after everyone went to sleep, I tip toed out of my room and brought my handbag from the kitchen door. I packed in some potatoes and stepped towards the door. I’m so stupid, ahhh. My tail coiled around the kitchen table and it dragged it down over the floor, with all of the glasses and knives on It, falling to the ground, crackling loudly throughout the house.

 

Of course, my parents woke up at the sound. Dad dashed out of the room, pressing his face with his paws. “What are you doing, Emilio?” He screamed at me in his screechy voice. He started collecting the things back on the table.

 

My mom didn’t do anything. She just nodded at me, as if expecting this rumble of me and headed back to sleep.

 

But Dad didn’t end things so easily. He examined me with narrow eyes and pointed at my hand bag, “ why are you holding this?” He told me, “ where were you going you filthy creature.”

 

Of course, I couldn’t reply or say anything. I kept on mumbling and shaking under the orange light of the lamp.

 

Connecting the handbag, the potatoes and my previous complaining, Dad knew what I was I trying to do and accordingly he imprisoned me for five months in my room.

Reviews

[roarke]

I hope you scrounged some cheese and stale bread to tide you over those 5 months.

I like it, it's got a nice feel to it, I'd like to see a little more "rat" in it. You can still make the analogies to human life, but if you stay in between a rat or a human rat, the reader doesn't know how to frame the story.

Sounds like a larger story, I can hardly wait to see what happens after 5 months. lol.