The Mouse Ploy

I’ve seen many things in my living life. However this is my first time witnessing a crime take place right before my eyes. A woman… no, a man in a green hoodie, ripped jeans, slender, long hair and barefoot, pointed a gun to the young girl's face. Standing in an empty alley the sun was barely taking up space; it was around six that day.

Sweating and looking around he shakes his words from his voice. “Gim give meh me all ya you got k kid!”. It was strange to see the criminal begin to stutter and leak tears yet never change facial expressions. An adult male holding a gun to a young girl's face while crying and sweat falling from his own face. You’ve gotta wonder why is he so scared and he’s the one with the weapon.

A criminal can be absolutely anyone who’s committed a crime… correct?

The girl grabbed the base of the gun and pulled it to the bare skin of her forehead. “Kill me please! I have nothing to offer anyone anyway.” The man snatched his gun from her and slowly took a step backwards from the girl and he looked around and saw me. I was looking right at the scene and would be considered a witness. I was standing on the railing that protected people from falling into oncoming traffic.

The man screamed with fear “NOOOOOOO!! DAMN DEMON BIRD!!” He then pointed the gun at me and fired, he missed his target. The true victim was a young girl who purposely got in the way. Not the girl who wanted to die but a girl who survived death many times and fought for it everyday.

That girl was the true me! I was the girl walking to the store that day when I saw a man point a gun at an innocent owl perched on the railing. I don’t know why I saved the owl at all that day. But since I died I’ve been reliving the tragedy everyday from the owls perspective. Repeated and repeated, over and over and over again. This being has told me to rewatch this scene till I figure out what I should’ve done instead. The guy, the gun, the girl, the owl, the other girl, the death, and the fear that repeated every second, every minute, every hour of every day. Even if I slept I still never actually woke. Still, every time I answer it’s the wrong answer. How can every answer be the wrong answer if I’m answering for me!

This is when I realized. And I felt the clench of my deliverance run from my gut to my eyes causing tears to flood my face. I was never the girl who loved her life; not for a second. I was the girl who wanted to die. All my answers were wrong because I didn’t want to believe who I was. The correct answer was irrelevant because I needed to change my mind to become me. This being tortured me endlessly so that I’d become, and accept being me.

With one quick blink I looked from that tragic alley to looking at a woman evaluating me from a chair across the room. I was freed from that eternal, deafening, blur of time loop that dragged me on and on for ages. She said to me, “I’m sorry to ask you so many questions given your circumstances”. I looked down at my wrist and realized I still live in this forsaken world. Remembering what I did after the girl died instead of me. The loop may have repeated but always stopped right after she got shot. So my attempt to end my life, I assume, I just forgot after so much time had passed of pretending to be someone else. Seeing the new scars be all fixed from the damage I caused in that alley. “It’s my job. Do you remember the face of the man who killed the young girl this afternoon?”

Realizing reality, I looked at the officer from my hospital bed and began to cry. I never changed my face to match my feelings but I smiled instead. Looking down to my lap, with a smirk on my face, I thought. Even though it was a man, only I would have known that because he looked like a woman from any other perspective. I asked the officer a question. “Why are owls known for wisdom… is it because every time they die, they come back to life.”

The officer stood up with confusion and began to leave the room. Before she left she said to me, something I’ll one day forget. “Owls are wise, because they never lie!”

She closed the door behind her and I began to feel an actual cry. One I've needed for a long long time. But I don’t know how to cry so I took the feeling of tears running down my face and began to giggle just a bit. Remembering the day I was free was the day my mother died and my father cried. They both were terrible parents and not only of my opinion. I wished for it on a dozen nights that I’d wake up and they both had died.

The first day I went outside was the day that young girl was killed. I wanted it to be me just so I could see her one last time. Because just minutes before, I had witnessed my own crime. I killed my mother and all I want now is to apologize. I’m a criminal with little defense for life but I've lived with millions of lies. With my mother I’m doomed to have a sad loveless life. Without my mother I’m an outcast all alone in this world.

If I could bring her back I wouldn’t. If I could go to her now, I wouldn’t waste a second. Because in this world she was an empty vessel who, everyday, was forced to take medication. If she didn’t she wouldn’t be considered sane. So you see, I saved her from her misery.

Yes! My father is worthless and treated me like his personal astray, punching bag, and therapy.

Yes! I killed my mother just hours ago to show my father how much they hurt me with their sanity!

Yes! I waited around an alley for someone to mug and kill me.

Yes! After the girl got shot I tried to kill myself to feel free.

And yes! I AM A CRIMINAL…who just might be crazy.

But at least I don’t believe that owls can talk. Least of all lie.

I’ve seen many things in my living life. However this is my first time witnessing my crime double right before my eyes.

“OFFICER, OFFICER” they all came running into my hospital room. “I’ve just remembered, my m my my father has murdered my mother.” The tears flowed from my eyes as if I actually cared. If I can’t die and must live in this cruel world then I will live as a villain. A villain for the rest of my dying life.

It’s been a month now and I’m in an all girls orphanage. The officer came by last week to update me. The man who was robbing me was an escapee from a local psych ward.That explains the bare feet. Apparently, he needed riches to pay off an imaginary debt to an owl-like creature. He was scared out of his mind and robbed people to subdue an enemy that he created. I can only assume that one night, near, I will also go crazy with a similar fear.

I am not haunted by the death of my mother in the slightest. Yet, I wake up with sweats and chills, hoping the next day has arrived. What if it’s started over? What if I’ve already died? Could this be hell? Am I truly alive? Where is that damn owl? Why does it still haunt my mind?

The officer didn’t stop at telling me about the crazed man from that day. She told me of the girl that I soon realized I had no merit to pretend to be. Apparently, when she was a child, she was almost murdered by her own brother. He poisoned her with a snake from the pet store that they were visiting. He had no ill intentions to kill her but to scare her instead. The poison didn’t kill her but it did kill her brother. Everyday since she’s had to see a therapist to convince her that life is worth living. It’s true what they say about twins I guess. Even by the minutes of birth they really do share a soul. She lives with the feeling like she can’t live without him.

After telling me all she had to offer, I walked to my room and sat upon my bed. A lot has happened since I decided to be a criminal. It’s who I decided to be. Who I decided to be? That creature, that owl, wanted me to take responsibility and admit to who I was, some kind of deliverance. As their only child, with time, I was born and lived with a name and a life that’s become truly insignificant. As of now my name is … Nezumi … Nezumi Night, and my older twin brother died of snake bite and my mother… she was killed by my father. Nezumi may be the word for mouse in Japanese, but let’s see if the owl will ever catch me. I’m a criminal, not crazy.

About six years have passed and jeez, I’ve found out quite a lot about a lot. I've become a feared art thief known as The Mouse. The people in this city began to see me as some type of hero a few years ago once I started leaving a calling card and stealing from celebrities and politicians.

Surprisingly, it turns out that the officer that was grilling me for details, was the one releasing psychotic patients. Scaring them into bringing back valuable riches and getting away with it too. That’s how the information about the criminal being a guy was obtained. Two hours ago I figured it all out at a stash spot run by people that don't care what you do as long as you pay them. I knew it was this officer a long time ago but I couldn’t find the damn loot. It’s been real fun up until now since the game is over. The owl that haunted me never came back so I felt alive a little inside.

A lot happens in my life but my story, one day will end. Until then, I think I want to try to escape prison. One with an ocean view perhaps. Maybe rob a back with intense security. Perhaps become a cop and do deals with the mafia. Oh wait, I know, I’ll make a lot of enemies in all the deadly places and see who will catch me first.

My father always asked me if I’d rather be dead! Even now, I would still answer him the same. “I don’t want to be alive.” Let the games begin.