Submitted By nien
Darkness. Warmth. A rhythmic beating sound. This was my existence. There I was in my peaceful slumber. I’d sleep, I’d wake, I’d move around. There was not a single worry in my life. Not that I even knew what a worry is. I don’t know how long it was before it all came alive. I felt movements and then suddenly it all changed. Darkness became light, the comforting warmth turned to biting cold, and the almost silence changed to loud noises. I felt something touch me and looked up, and I knew, this figure, was my mother.
From that point on, life became a lot less simple. I’d get hungry, tired, bored, I felt a whole myriad of new emotions. My mother was kind and active. I’d watch as she ate, or went about doing other things. She’d leave for a long time every day, and come back with food. She’d feed me, groom me, and hold me close as I fell asleep. Little did I know, it was all about to get a lot more complicated.
A long time after the beginning of my meagre existence, I had begun to be able to eat and look after myself somewhat and even run about our little abode. Sheltered by their roofs, we lived in a small alley between two buildings. It was small, damp and dirty, occasionally someone would throw stones at us, but it was home. I was afraid of venturing out to the road, with its scary people hurrying about, most throwing looks of disgust or fear when I peek out, jumping away as if I carry a dangerous disease. And the vehicles, loud and going oh so fast. But my fears didn’t have time fester for my mother decided to take me along, on a foray for food. I knew this would go wrong, but what could I do except follow her?
My mother was probably used to the way people seemed to be scared we’d touch them. But me, I was not used to that. Frankly, it hurt. I couldn’t comprehend why we were outcasts, sure we looked different, ragged but that’s who we are. I couldn’t understand the concept of not being accepted for who we are, that it can be a crime to be oneself. So I kept my head down, and followed my mother. And then she crossed the road. Oh No, I thought to myself. There she went, the vehicles seemed to be waiting to let her pass. The noise was there though, loud and scary. Watching my mother cross, I mustered up what courage I had and prepared to follow her across. That thought dropped from my mind as in my moment of indecision, a woman had come up to me and was bent over me, looming across my field of vision like a huge monster from my nightmares. And she was about to touch me, I froze, only my mother had ever touched me. Time slowed. Then I panicked, I turned and I ran, I ran until I ran out of breath and collapsed in a dark alley. In my tiredness, I blacked out.
I woke up feeling cold. I didn’t open my eyes. I felt around for my mother, normally I’d wake with her holding me. My hands grabbed nothingness. Bleary memories of the chase came back to me. My eyes shot open and I looked around. Emptiness all around, some garbage. I figured my mother would come for me, she always did. So I didn’t move, I sat there, feeling safe in my trust that my mother will find me. Hours seemed to pass as I tired of watching the little insects on the ground. My stomach growled, I was hungry. The rat I chased away every now and then started to look appetizing. Doubt stirred within me, some part of me, telling me she won’t come for me. The sunlight faded away,