amelia swedloff
In the basement of Loeb, there once lived a colony of rats. Among these rats, lived one Mouse. Mouse was smaller than the rats. Mouse was weaker than the rats. Mouse was more tired than the rats. At meals, Mouse was always the last to eat. The rats would never let Mouse have a seat at the table. The rats would make fun of Mouse.
They would say “Mouse, you are too small and weak and tired. You do not deserve the food that we rats have worked so hard for.”
Mouse could only eat the leftovers from the meals the rats found. In the warm summer months, the food was plentiful. Mouse was sustained by the leftover seeds and insects from the feasts of the rats. But in the winter the rats gave Mouse less food. They said the plants died. They said insects hid. The rats said they were too cold and scared to venture out of the basement. Mouse had less to eat. They grew smaller and weaker and more tired.
In the coldest, longest winter, the rats stopped giving food to Mouse.
“Mouse,” they said, “You are not like us. Your ears are larger. Your tail is longer. Your feet and head are too small. You are not a rat.”
“Mouse,” they said, “We have no more food. You are not like us. We must eat you in order to survive the cold winter.”
Mouse was afraid. They were too small and weak and tired to fight the rats. “Please,” they said, “Do not eat me. You will regret it.”
“Regret it?” the rats laughed, “Why would we regret it? You are small and weak and tired. You only eat our food and take our space. In this cold, long winter, we must eat you to survive.”
“You will regret it,” Mouse said, again. But the rats only laughed.
As they were laughing, Mouse turned and ran as fast as they could down the hallway. They were not faster or stronger than the rats, but they knew where to hide. Mouse crawled between two bricks, into a space so small the rats could not fit. The rats yelled and called to Mouse, but they ignored the larger creatures, withdrawing further into the wall.
For three days and three nights, Mouse crawled through the walls. They were alone, hungry, weak, and tired. For three days and three nights, the walls held nothing but darkness. Yet, on the fourth day, Mouse met the cockroaches.
“Hello,” said the cockroaches. “Who are you?”
“I am Mouse,” said Mouse. “Who are you?”
“We are the cockroaches,” they replied.
“Why are you hiding in the walls?” Mouse asked.
“We are hiding from the rats, who tried to eat us many winters ago.” they replied.
Mouse nodded. “I, too, am hiding from the rats. They tried to eat me many days ago.”
The cockroaches nodded. “Every winter the rats take all the food from us, and yet they are never satisfied. We cockroaches have nothing to eat, but the rats feast.”
“Feast?” Mouse asked. “The rats claimed they had run out of food.”
“No,” the cockroaches answered. “They simply want more. They will not be satisfied until they have eaten all of the creatures in this basement. They want all of the food for themselves. We cockroaches have very little. They hold it all in their own corner. For many winters we have gone hungry, while the rats have not.”
That night, the fourth night, Mouse made a plan. With the help of the cockroaches, they would steal the food from the rats and make it so they would not eat other creatures anymore. Together, they would become larger and stronger and more alive.
On the fifth day, Mouse led the cockroaches through the walls, right up to the rats' corner. The cockroaches were afraid, but Mouse urged them to be brave. As they neared the corner, Mouse told the cockroaches to start banging on the wall. The cockroaches pounded on the bricks and blew air through the cracks until it sounded like some large being was trying to escape. Meanwhile, Mouse chewed through the wire that lit the hall until they were flooded with darkness. The rats screamed in fright. In the dark, Mouse and the cockroaches took as much food as they could carry back to the cockroaches’ nest.
“Oh ghost,” the rats yelled. “What have you done? Why have you taken our food?”
On the fifth night, Mouse and the cockroaches ate more than they had all winter. The rats had been hoarding seeds and nuts and fungi for months. But Mouse had only made a dent, the rats still had the power to rule the basement.
On the sixth day, Mouse led the cockroaches back to the corner. This time, they instructed the cockroaches to sing loud enough for the rats to hear. The cockroaches piped haunting melodies through the hall. Meanwhile, Mouse chewed a hole through a ceiling panel, which fell to the floor near the rats with a crash. While they were distracted, Mouse and the cockroaches took as much food as they could carry back to the cockroaches’ nest.
“Oh ghost,” the rats called. “Please protect us. Our home has been wrecked. Our food has been stolen.”
On the sixth night, Mouse and the cockroaches feasted. But Mouse was still not satisfied. With the added food, they were larger and stronger and more awake. They planned a third trip to the rats.
On the seventh day, Mouse brought the cockroaches to the bathroom, where they clogged all of the toilets and all of the sinks. The pipes burst and flooded the rats' corner. The rats wailed and cried, as the remainder of their food was swept away.
“Oh ghost,” they screamed, “Please spare us. We have done no wrong. You have taken our food.”
Mouse crawled out from their hole in the wall.
“I am the ghost.” they said, “I have taken your food, just as you took mine.”
“Please, oh Mouse, Ghost of Loeb. Please show us mercy,” the rats begged. They no longer had any food. Their home had been flooded and destroyed.
But Mouse shook their head and returned to their hole in the wall where they had hidden their food. There, they feasted without the rats, who went hungry for the rest of the season. Every winter since then, the rats bring Mouse their best food, so they can remain unhaunted by the Ghost of Loeb.