I'm writing this down to feel less creeped out about the whole thing (though admittedly it's not particularly disturbing the first place).
--- I went to sleep around 1 this morning. Or tried to, for there was a tapping or scratching noise at my window. Assuming it was a deer or one the neighborhood cats I figured that not seeing the light dimly illuminating my window area (for my room is in the basement, part of my window being partially underground, freed by a window well). However, the tapping and scratching continued, and in some sort of cliche sleep-deprived delirium, I imagined rabid animals, demons, or even some strange hobo was outside my window.
At 3:38, I found I'd had enough ridiculous thoughts for one sleep cycle and sought to do something about it. So naturally, I went up and bothered my parents (who though not thrilled about being woken up, thought it strange enough to warrant getting out of bed and turning on all the lights). We peeked out the window and my mom declared that it was simply the wind knocking a tree into the drain running from the roof. Perhaps it was just me but I found my dad to be a little silly, wanting to use the garage when the the noise of the automatic opener would probably wake up my sisters as well; my mom dissuaded him and sort of ran around getting some rope to tie up the rogue noisemaker and get back to sleep.
Making our way to the suspect, we discovered that it could not have been the tree, there was no way that the vegetation could be making the sound that had kept me up for all of two hours. So we walked past the tree and drain to peek into the window well. And it was there that we found the true culprit.
A Mouse.
Now at this point I'm not sure how I felt. Perhaps mostly tired. My dad had already decided his course of action was to swiftly dispose of it in the most human of ways; he went over to our front garden and pulled up a slab of concrete, ready to chuck it at the rodent. I readied myself for some sort of horrid death cry or some other haunting sound. It never came.
It took a few tries, but by the end of it he had crushed the thing's hind area (though not to the point of gore, so I'll not say poor). It struggled around a bit, crawling on it's front legs, trying to seek shelter in a small pile of dried grass. Feeling that we had accomplished the deed (and not wanting to stick around in the cold) we trudged back inside, where we informed my mom of it's fate and then proceeded to head to my room. My dad asked if I could still hear it to which I replied, "No." Satisfied, he left me alone to silence we had created.
And now I wonder. Was it my fault that it had died? Could the dim light of my staying up late have possibly lured the mouse into the window well from which it could not escape, dooming it's rather fragile life? Could I have let it go? Could I have reached down and removed it from its entrapment and released it to the rest of the dangerous world? Was this a crueler or less cruel end for this beast?
I sit here at my desk, about 6 inches from the window; and outside lies the dying or dead mouse. For I hear it scratching no more. How do I feel? Simply tired, not haunted; a bit silly, for making such a fuss over a small issue and vague annoyance. But really, how would you feel if death were a mere foot away? I'm not sure if I can still sleep considering I've been active for the last thirty minutes.
I don't know, I'm too tired. Maybe I'll erase all this in a couple hours when I'm more rested.
This post has been edited by DustyHaru: Jan 3 2011, 09:32 AM
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