Requiem for a Mouse

by Jamie Wang

  MAVERICK

  Where am I?

  The world was crimson, the color of fresh blood still pouring from the body. Maverick looked down at the pitch black street underneath him. He was knelt down. He had no recollection of getting here. Under him was a shadow without features, just a lump of black in the shape of a boy.

  “I have a talent for this.” For the first time, Maverick realized that he didn’t have control over his body. It was him on top of the boy, but he was also the one watching. He watched himself spear his hand into the boy’s stomach, tearing apart the shadow like paper.

  He flung up shreds of the shadow. He dismantled the boy, piece by piece. Though he wasn’t in control, he could feel the warm blood between his fingers, sticking underneath his nails. It pained him to claw through the boy’s flesh, ripping through muscle and organs. Even bones would be torn out and thrown into the air. But they all just became shreds of shadows evaporating into the red sky.

  The boy’s muscles were tough. Each time he shoved his hand inside, his nails would break or come apart. It felt like a million needles jamming itself into his fingers, but he couldn’t stop himself. The expression on his body was unmistakable; his smile seemed to stretch off his face. Happiness.

  The more he saw that happy face, the less strange the situation became. The red world, how he couldn’t control his body, and even the corpse turning to shadows right before his eyes, none of it mattered when he saw how happy he was.

  “Why does this feel so good?” His body hugged itself, trembling as it threw its head back to guffaw. But from its eyes, tears were falling to the ground.

  I don’t want to be a monster.

  “I had forgotten how great this felt. Why did I forget?” Maverick looked into his own grief-stricken eyes and realized that he was the one being asked. He was being asked by his own body.

  Because I’m human. Maverick’s response came out in the form of an echo that surrounded this bloody world. He wasn’t even sure if anyone could actually hear him.

  “We were more human when we enjoyed ourselves.” His body responded and approached him, covered in blood. Each step brought a new splash of gore.

  We were disgusting.

  “And now what are we?” It was strange, though his body was talking, his mouth never moved. It held its smile steady, its teeth so white it was almost blinding. “We feel nothing; we want nothing; we are nothing. We were more human as a monster.”

  But this is ugly.

  “We were never born to be beautiful.”

  The red night evaporated away, replaced by the building he was raised in. It was the same cracked cement walls that he had once clawed his fingers bloody, trying to escape. Then there was the crowd he was so used to, shouting at him from all directions. They demanded blood.

  On the ground with him was a boy. He found himself smashing the boy’s head against the cement with both hands. Every lunge brought with it the sickening sound of cracking bones. The boy had long ago lost the will to fight. All he had left was his screams, filling the room with its sharp dissonance. But it didn’t matter. The crowd wanted blood.

  Stop.

  “I can’t.” Maverick’s body said as he continued slamming the boy into the ground. Blood spilled out from the boy’s ear like someone pouring out a drink. “This is what he deserves!”

  Please stop.

  “You think I want this?” His body screamed at him. His arms moved mechanically, faster and faster until the boy’s head began collapsing inside itself. “But what choice do I have? He would’ve done the same to me. This is fair isn’t it? Isn’t this justice?”

  Please!

  “Tell me, what can we do? How can we be saved?”

  Maverick had no answer to give. He just watched until the boy’s head cracked open to reveal the jumbled mess inside. It drained out of his head like porridge, splattering against the floor. The boy gave off one last wail before a gurgle bubbled out of his throat. Around him, the crowd cheered in a maddening frenzy.

  “I did it.” Maverick watched his body chuckling to itself. It grabbed its head, a sick smile spread across its lips and it laughed.

  “Yes!” His body screamed, its bloody fist in the air.

  In a blink of an eye, the world changed once again. The concrete walls disappeared so that only the red lighting remained. The crowd morphed into shadows, their form slowly drifting away into the sky, as if they were being sucked into a vacuum. Maverick turned to face himself, tears of happiness falling from his chin.

  God never meant for us to be human.

  He had never seen himself so happy before. “So stop pretending.”

  Maverick awoke in a cold sweat. He looked up at the sun peeking through the alley. It took only a single breath to calm him down. He pushed himself up, his face betraying nothing.

  BOLT

  Bolt had awoken up with a headache. He had gone to Flower for help who thought it as a perfect opportunity to send him on an errand. So after swallowing a gelatin pill, he took some money and headed to the market to buy everyone’s lunch. He found himself veering away from his path.

  It’s just a detour. He repeated the lie to himself, hoping that the more he voiced it, the truer it became. It wasn’t long before he found himself in front of a small run-down shack, its wooden door barely on its hinges. This was where the Mouse he had saved crawled to.

  He hovered his hand over the door, ready to knock. At times like this, he wished he was as decisive as Sasha, or as cool as Maverick, or at the very least, as hardheaded as Prince. Instead, all he had was his own uncertainties, sinking into his stomach into a very real nausea.

  Why am I back here?

  The more he thought about it, the less appealing knocking on the door became. Yet, his hand remained over the door in a fist. He knew nothing about this girl, not even her name. But when he closed his eyes at night, or found any moment of peace, his mind always wandered back to her. She was resilient, stronger than anyone he had ever met with pride that might even trump Sasha’s.

  Before Bolt could decide what to do, the door opened. The green-eyed Mouse stood on the other side of the door. Bolt stared at her with nothing to say.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  Stupid Bolt, why didn’t you think of anything to say?

  Bolt stood still. Though his mouth was open, he remained silent. Her blonde hair was no longer tangled, but fell down in a slick line over her shoulders. There wasn’t a trace of dirt or grime on her anymore and she smelled like flowers.

  “You’ve been standing in front of my door for a while now. I could see you through our windows. Did you have something you wanted?” Her words came out nonchalantly, as if Bolt was just another acquaintance of hers.

  “I just wanted to check up on you.” Bolt finally found the words he had wanted to say. But now that he had said them, they sounded awkward.

  “I’m fine.”

  Bolt scrambled for more words to say. “That’s good.”

  The silence between them was suffocating. Bolt stared at his feet. He noticed the dirt underneath his toenails and at the same time realized the stench he had been dragging along with him. His hand clenched into a fist.

  Stupid Bolt.

  “Gunther, I’m going out!” The girl shouted.

  Bolt jumped at her sudden shout. His eyes shot up, trying to see if the Mouse had seen his moment of fright. Luckily for him, her back was to him.

  She turned around with a slight frown on her face. “I’m going to the market; you can come along if you like.”

  Bolt gave her a slight nod, probably too slight for her to notice. She gave him no indication she had seen it and instead started walking. Bolt followed along, reminded of just the other day. The difference was that this time, her walk was straight and she did so with her head held high. Still, Bolt couldn’t help but notice a stiffness in her step.

  “I actually needed to go to the market too.” Bolt said with a nervous smile.

  “I gues
s it all worked out then.” Her tone displayed her disinterest.

  Though Bolt was going with her, he could hardly call it walking with her. He kept a sizable gap between them, simply walking in her footsteps. The closer they got to the market, the more crowded the streets became.

  The marketplace wasn’t like the rest of the streets with vendors on the sides. It was a giant open space filled with wooden stands of goods and produce. The only lanes were the ones between shops and in a particularly crowded area, traffic from both directions would push against each other in a fight for space. Bolt closed the gap between himself and the Mouse, just so he wouldn’t lose her.

  When they reached the market entrance, the Mouse paused. “Why are you here?” she asked, turning to face Bolt.

  “I just wanted to check up on you,” Bolt repeated.

  “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I won’t be doing another drop. I’m not a Mouse, I never was one.” The green-eyed girl turned to walk away. With her back to Bolt, she stopped to say, “But Bolt, thanks.” And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.

  Bolt just stood in disbelief. With a small sigh, he went into the market to buy bread.

  LISSANDRA

  Lissandra returned home with two plastic bags full of food. She stood in front of her house just watching the door, the same way Bolt had. She found herself counting the cracks on the door, if anything, just to keep her occupied.

  Sorry, Bolt, but I’ll only hold you back.

  From here, it looked like her house had been abandoned long ago. There was only silence and the occasional creak of wood. The birds chirping nearby sounded like an orchestra next to her house. Not even her neighbors made noise, though she wasn’t even sure she had neighbors. For the few weeks that she had lived here, she hadn’t once encountered any.

  Her mother was probably drunk again, passed out on the couch in the clothes she had been wearing since the passing of her father. Gunther was most likely out looking for work and Leon hungry, waiting for his big sister to come home with food.

  “God I miss you.” Lissandra whispered to her father. She held her breath for a moment, expecting some cool gust of wind or maybe even a whisper back, anything that might indicate that her father had heard her from the other side. There was only silence.

  Lissandra opened her front door and stepped inside.

  “Where have you been?” Her mother was standing right in front of her with her fists at her waists. Her face looked years older than it had just a day ago, and centuries older than a week ago.

  “I was getting food.” Lissandra replied as calm as she could. She carried the bags to the kitchen.

  “And how’d you get the money to do that?” Elizabeth stepped in front of Lissandra. She grabbed Lissandra’s arm, her fingers like talons. “Tell me!”

  Lissandra squirmed away from the grip, but it was iron-tight. “Let go of me.”

  Her mother’s nails dug into the dark purple of her bruises. “Tell me how you got this money!” Elizabeth wore the smell of booze like perfume.

  Lissandra winced and twisted her arm out of her mother’s clasp. “I did a job for Jynx.”

  “You’re lying, aren’t you?” Elizabeth was in tears. Just then, she looked on the verge of collapsing. Her face turned pale and she stumbled backwards. She held up a rigid finger at Lissandra. “Your father would be ashamed of you.”

  Lissandra looked away as if slapped. She would’ve preferred being slapped. “What would you have me do?” she asked, her voice like the calm before a storm.

  “You think I was too drunk to notice you? You disappear all night then come home with bruises and money and with a boy! How could you?”

  “That’s not—”

  “Did you even consider how this would affect Leon? Having a whore for a sister?” Elizabeth covered her face with her hands as she sobbed into them.

  “Mom, stop.” Lissandra fought her tears, but they came regardless. “I’m not—”

  Elizabeth grabbed both her shoulders. Lissandra felt herself being crushed between her mother’s frail arms. Elizabeth looked Lissandra in the eye with a twitching smile. “Tell me Liss, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re a virgin.”

  This isn’t fair. Why did it have to happen like this? All I wanted was to…

  Lissandra swung up her hand and smacked her mother’s face. The sound of it echoed throughout the house. Her mother toppled over to the ground.

  “All I wanted was to feed Leon!” Lissandra screamed the words at the ground, her head swinging with each word. Tears flew from her face, spraying the floor. Before her mother responded, she ran out and disappeared into the streets.

  “Whiskey.” Lissandra knocked on the bar. “All the way up.”

  Within moments another cup was in front of her. A translucent yellow drink filled it to the brim. She laid her head on the bar in case she were to fall backwards. With clumsy fingers, she fished a coin out of her pocket.

  She had planned not to spend this money, to save it as an emergency fund. However, this was an emergency.

  She sat at the same bar she used to sneak into with Gunther. They scraped up coins for a week just to share a filthy drink together. Neither enjoyed it, but both enjoyed watching the other choke through it.

  Her father would always find them. Most times he would be angry, yanking them by the ear back home. Once in the privacy of their house, he would lecture them for hours. But compared to the embarrassment of being dragged through public by ear, his lectures were a welcome change.

  However, every now and then, instead of dragging them out, he would pull out a stool and order a drink with them. With a wink he would say…

  “Don’t tell your mother.” Lissandra whispered to herself in recollection.

  “But how can I refuse such great company?” He would finish. And with that, he would take a seat and order the next round of drinks. A tap on her shoulder interrupted her daydream.

  “I thought I would find you here.” Gunther pulled out a stool beside her and ordered a drink, just as their dad used to. “You look radiant.”

  Lissandra watched him, noticing how he resembled their father. It wasn’t just in looks either, he had the same ability to know just what to say to her.

  “Shut up.” She responded.

  Gunther knocked on the bar and ordered his own drink. It looked just as disgusting as hers. “I heard you and mom got in a fight.”

  “Drink!” Lissandra brought the cup to her lips and drank until the burning liquid forced her to gag. She set it down, spitting some back out into the cup. Beside her, Gunther threw his head back and drained his cup of everything.

  “Aren’t we a little too old for this game?” Gunther asked, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown. With a knock on the bar, he ordered another drink.

  “I’m not to come home anymore.” Lissandra said without looking at him. “Apparently, I’m a bad influence on Leon.”

  “Look, you know how mom is. She’s just going through a lot, she’s not herself right now. When I got home she on her knees begging me to find you. She wants you to come home.”

  “Why would I go back to that—”

  “Drink!” Gunther said.

  Gunther raised the glass to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as the liquid drained from his cup. Lissandra did the same. She forced the rest of her drink down her throat. It was embarrassing to only be able to drink half cups for every cup Gunther could drink.

  “Leon misses his big sister.” Gunther wiped his mouth on his sleeve like he could rub the drink’s taste from his tongue.

  “Really? I heard his sister’s a whore.”

  “I sure hope not,” Gunther remarked as he ordered another drink. “Because then I’d have to kill every man who so much as looked at her.”

  “Even you thought so…” Lissandra stared into her empty glass, remembering how Gunther had told her not to do anything she couldn’t explain to Leon. Back then, his words were a knife in her back, now
, it felt like she had been speared through.

  Gunther looked down at his drink, at a loss. Finally, he answered. “I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it. I was just trying to get you to come back home.”

  “And is that what you’re doing now? You’re going to ask me to go back home?” She knocked on the bar and watched the bartender pour her more poison.

  “No,” Gunther said meekly. “I’m going to get down on my knees and beg you to come home. We need you, Liss. At the very least, I need you. Mom’s depressed, Leon’s scared, and I think I’m going crazy. You’re the only one I can even talk to anymore.”

  Lissandra stared at her drink. She let out a small sigh, but the corners of her lips curled up into a reluctant smile. “Drink.”

  GUNTHER

  By the time Gunther and Lissandra were done drinking, twilight had swallowed the sky. They stumbled to their front door. Before Gunther could fish the keys out of his pocket, Lissandra plopped down onto the dirt street and laid down.

  “I thought you could handle your liquor a little better.” Gunther hooted. “C’mon little sister, you barely drank half of what I drank. Are you really so light?”

  “I fell on purpose, I just want to sit here for a little.” Lissandra shot back, her vowels stringing together. She rested her head against the floor and closed her eyes. It seemed like she would fall asleep, but then again, she was never one to let someone else have the last word. “You have a job yet, Gunther?”

  “No, so I guess it’s a good thing you drink so little then. Save us all a little money.”

  Lissandra chuckled back. “Maybe I only drink so little because we can’t afford more.”

  Gunther sat down next to her, happy not to be on his feet anymore. “Seriously though, I’ll get one soon. I swear.”

  “You better, because I just quit mine.”

  “Well, as the man of the…” Gunther let his sentence fade. With a drawn-out sigh, he continued, “You’re more man of the house than I am, you actually put food on the table. I’m sorry, Liss. I’ve been too hard on you, I just didn’t want you doing anything that’d get you in trouble or hurt.”