Poor Nathan. He has been trapped as a mouse for a year. Will his luck change? He cannot speak to solicit help, and he's become a caged pet for his own oblivious brother, Brett. Is this the Christmas Eve it changes?
Hen scurried across a carpet of wood shavings, which Brett, his owner, changed periodically. When did Brett go from brother to owner?
After Brett’s morning greeting and departure, Nathan visited his feeder for a nibble of the nuggets of specially prepared mouse food. He so much wanted a change in his daily diet. In his daily routine, for that matter.
He craved salsa and chips, double cheeseburgers with onion rings and waffles with maple syrup. Sometimes he had to watch how owner indulge in all sorts of delicious foods right before his beady eyes.
Nathan stared through his prison bars at the final page on the year’s calendar. Three-hundred and sixty-five days since he had made the fateful decision to use the Chronivac for some silly fun.
Now, he was Mickey, a mouse in a cage on top of a dresser in his friend’s bedroom. Day after day after day…
He heaved a tiny mouse sigh. Another day, another dollar, he thought to himself. Or in this case, another day, another pile of wood shavings to dig through. Nathan's tiny paws twitched as he surveyed his domain. The cage was clean, but it was still a cage. A prison. His prison.
He scampered over to the water tube, his little pink nose twitching as he took a long, refreshing sip. The water was cool and crisp, a brief respite from the monotony of his existence.
Next stop, the feeder. Nathan nibbled on a mouse nugget, his taste buds screaming for something, anything, other than this bland, nutritionally-balanced slop. Bacon cheeseburgers danced through his mind, taunting him with their greasy, delicious goodness.
He glanced up at the calendar, his beady eyes focusing on the last day of the year. 365 days. 365 days of this hell. All because of one stupid, reckless decision. The Chronivac had seemed like such a good idea at the time. A way to have some fun, to shake things up. But now, he was paying the price.
A price of being trapped in the body of a mouse, at the mercy of his oblivious brother. A price of watching Brett eat all the delicious foods he used to enjoy, while he was stuck with these stupid mouse nuggets.
But maybe, just maybe, his luck was about to change. It was Christmas Eve, after all. The season of miracles. Maybe Santa would take pity on him and grant his wish to be human again. A real boy. Hadn’t that happened in some movie? Damn! He missed movies.
Or maybe he was just deluding himself. After all, what were the chances of a miracle happening to a lazy, reckless guy like him? He sighed again, his tiny chest heaving with the effort.
Another day, another dollar. Another day trapped in this cage. Another day of longing for the life he used to have.
But who knows? Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe tomorrow, his luck would finally change.
Or maybe not.
Only time would tell.
In those next seconds, a change in the morning routine occurred. Brett didn't fasten the cage securely. Once Brett left to complete his pre-Christmas tasks, Nathan pushed the door and popped out of the cage. But should he push his luck? Where to go?
He couldn’t believe his luck! The cage door was open! After all this time, he finally had a chance to escape this prison. But where to go? He was still a mouse. He couldn’t can't just waltz out of here and hail a cab to the nearest burger joint.
But still, the temptation was too great. He had to at least explore a little. Just to see what was out there. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Brett comes home and finds him outside the cage? So what? He’d be back to square one, but at least he would have had a taste of freedom, relief from the monotony.
He scampered out of the cage, tiny paws tingling with excitement. The carpet felt soft under his feet, a welcome change from the wood shavings he was used to. Nathan ventured closer to the edge of the dresser, looking down at the drop below.
It was a long way down. But then again, he was a mouse. He was used to heights. He climbed up and down the sides of his cage all the time. How different could this be?
He peered over the edge, heart racing. The floor seemed so far away. But then again, so had the top of the cage when he first learned to climb it.
He took a deep breath (well, as deep as a mouse can breathe) and leaped.
He landed with a soft thud on the carpet, legs wobbling slightly. He had done it!
“I am free!” Nathan squeaked wordlessly.
Well, sort of. He remained still trapped in the body of a mouse, after all. But still, this was a start.
He looked around the room, trying to decide where to go next. The world was his oyster (or at least, the bedroom was). He could go anywhere he wanted.
But where did he want to go? The kitchen, with its tantalizing smells of food? The living room, with its comfy-looking furniture?
The possibilities were endless. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his luck was finally changing.
MEOW!
His tiny ear heard the unmistakable meow.
Oh crap, he had totally forgotten about Buttons! That darn cat was always lurking around, just waiting for a chance to pounce on some unsuspecting prey. And right now, that prey was him.
Nathan froze in his tracks, tiny heart pounding in his chest. He could hear Buttons' heavy paw steps coming closer, his tail swishing behind him. He was onto the fact that a creature, a mouse specifically, was stirring in the house.
Nathan looked around frantically, trying to find a place to hide. The living room was wide open, with nowhere to duck and cover. He was a sitting duck (or rather, a sitting mouse).
He scampered behind the couch, paws skittering across the hardwood floor. He tried to make himself as small as possible, pressing his body against the wall.
But it was no use. Buttons had already spotted him. He slunk towards him, his green eyes glinting with predatory intent.