Midnight Snack
By
Lilian Kendrick
Halfway across the room, the rodent
sensed danger and stopped moving. He
crouched, concentrating on the silence, ready to pounce or flee, but all was
silent as his eyes darted about seeking the cause of his sudden unease. He waited and then resumed his journey
towards the cot where the three-year-old lay sleeping. He could smell the milk,
dripping from the discarded feeding bottle onto the linoleum. His nightly treat was almost within his
reach. The child always left some milk. When she grew tired of the bottle, she
would push it aside and sleep. Tonight the teat was poking between the bars of
the cot and he would not have to struggle to reach it. He started lapping at
the puddle, rejoicing in the creamy flavour and welcoming the nutrition so
freely given. He felt gratitude towards his young benefactor, if a rat can feel
such a thing. The sense of danger
returned and he looked up from his supper to meet the little girl’s curious
gaze. She was peering down at him.
“Hello...,” she paused, thinking of
her next word. “Mousey?” She seemed to
know that wasn’t quite right, but it was near enough. The rat resumed his
drinking while she watched.
“Hungry,” the child was beginning
to whimper. She picked up the bottle and began to suck the last drops from it.
Dismayed, the rat squealed and leapt after his food source. Squeezing between
the bars of the cot, he found himself staring into the eyes of his tormentor.
I
don’t want to hurt you, I just want the milk. He knew she couldn’t
understand him, but he had to have the milk. The ache in his belly still needed
to be appeased. Give me the milk.The
child stared back at him as she continued to suck. At last, she cast the bottle
aside. It was empty, drained completely. The rat sniffed around the teat,
licking in vain. The little girl lay down, pulling the quilt over her shoulders
as she prepared to sleep again without a thought for her still hungry guest.
Her
chin is flecked with droplets. I could have those. No-one is here to stop me.
The big people are asleep next door. This little one likes me. She talks to me
and calls me ‘Mousey’. He crept
towards the drowsy child and licked the milk from her chin. She chuckled at the
tickling sensation of his rough tongue, too tired now to resist. Her pudgy
little fingers stroked between his ears until finally, warm and comforted he
fell asleep locked in her embrace – a grotesque parody of a teddy bear.
The morning sun cast a spotlight on
the scene when Maria entered the nursery to investigate why her little one was
sleeping late. She crossed the room and smiled indulgently as she removed the
bloodstained quilt from the cot and dropped it into the laundry basket, shaking
her head.
“Joe, get in here will you? I need
some help cleaning up.” She lifted the child from the cot as Joe entered the
room carrying a plastic bucket. “It’s in
the cot. I can’t see what she’s done with the head this time, but she’s got
real case of ‘morning breath’.”
Joe looked at his stepdaughter who
was now awake and smiling, reaching for him.
“In a bit, sweetie.” He said. “Mummy’s gonna give you a bath and help you
brush your teeth while Daddy sorts out this mess.”
Well-written and captured my interest - I definitely vote for this story!
ReplyDeleteI like this one - nasty little tale. Well done!
ReplyDelete