Untitled - Original Short Story by Kirra

One blind mouse, one blind mouse, see how he runs, see how he runs…

Intuitively, “Uncle” Robert knew that I had arrived. Although he was my dead father’s brother, I never considered him to be family. Beckoning with his index finger, he smiled and patted the bench invitingly. I grimaced and tried to mentally prepare myself for the ordeal. I took some silent deep breaths and ignored the protests that every muscle in my body was screaming. I made myself walk towards him, one step at a time. As I sat down next to him, his hand lightly brushed my shoulder and I shivered involuntarily. I was glad that we were out in a public place.

For hours I sat there beside Robert rigidly. He told me his life stories as I thought about my burning nose. I knew that he invented a large amount of his anecdotes; whether to impress me or to try to warm my icy attitude, I never knew. His efforts were futile. I loathed this man more than anything else in the world.

Eventually he reached out and put his cool, slightly damp palm to my forehead.
“You’re getting burnt. Let’s get out of here.”
My heart sank. There were still two more hours until I was allowed to leave. I suggested that we go to the library but he shook his head adamantly and said we would go back to his place which was only a short walk away.

All too soon, the hated building loomed into view. As Robert fumbled with his keys, I desperately made small-talk in an attempt to distract him. Before I knew it, we were inside his dinghy little apartment. It had a slight odour of urine and dust particles floated in the air like little boats. I wrinkled my nose and suggested coffee, but Robert had different ideas. Roughly, he pushed me up against the wall, his hot, wet tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I tried to escape, but he was too strong. He whispered sour nothings into my ear and I could feel the passion rising firmly in his jeans.

I made myself go cold and lifeless like concrete. Numb and unresponding, I switched to autopilot. Off in my own little world, I hardly noticed that Robert was leading me in the direction of the bedroom.

* * *

I woke up afterwards from the disturbing nightmare. As usual, I felt unclean and I needed to clean. Robert was lying naked, smoking and touching himself absentmindedly. He looked like a man satisfied with the cards that life had dealt him. After putting my clothes back on, I mumbled that I was in the kitchen if he needed me.

I greeted the piles of plates, pots and pans with relief. As I scrubbed and wiped, I began to feel calmer. Deep in thought, a silver glint caught my eye and an idea began formulating in my mind. I picked up the carving knife and weighed it. It felt warm, as if it knew its purpose.

Silently, I crept up the hall, one step at a time. I shivered with excitement and anticipation. When I reached the door to his bedroom, I peeked in. He was in the exact same position as I’d left him. He must have heard a rustle because he looked straight at me, unseeing and I thanked the Lord for his blindness. He murmured my name and when he got no answer, shrugged and took another drag of the cigarette. I gave him a few minutes to lie down and close his eyes. I waited until his breathing was deep and measured. I waited for the perfect opportunity to strike, as a predator watches her prey.

* * *

Robert was the disadvantaged taking advantage, the powerless in a position of power. I was, literally, plaything to a blind man. But the tables had turned, and I was finally in control. I walked out of that apartment, never to return. My 16th birthday had turned out quite well.

Did you ever see such a thing… as one blind mouse…