shorts - i'm a hamster, living my life

Its Tuesday, and he’s late coming home again. I can’t see much past the bars of my cage, but I can tell he’s not there. When he’s here, I can feel my whiskers shiver, I get cold, and then I’d start running. It’s bad when he’s home, I have to watch out for his mood swings, but it’s even worse when he’s not. By the time he gets home, I would be too starved to run, too starved to draw attention to my hunger.

When he’s home, at least he would turn the light on. He takes it for granted, but to me, light is a luxury. He decides when I eat, what I eat and whether I eat. But at least the light would be on. I glance around, the shadows look all too potent, pregnant with threat. Roaches. I hear their insistent whines, debating tonight’s menu. Damn it! They wouldn’t dare do that when he’s here. For a start, the light would be on. The roaches always bring out the worse within me. I’m independent and strong, I would have nothing to do with their sycophancy. Roaches always scuttle away when he’s here, but I won’t run away.

But it wasn’t a roach.

By the time I realise, the sound of scampering feet has already reached the door. My muscles tense up, ready to run. The sliver of light from the doorway is momentarily blocked by a dark form. It’s inside! My whiskers twitch, then shiver. My body starts to shake. A surge of adrenaline clicks my legs into overdrive. I’m running, running out of sheer panic. The rhythmic click of my cage spinning quickly increases in tempo. At first I looked around as I ran, the darkness around me began to blur as the bars of the cage cut spectrums of white and silver onto the surrounding blackness. I saw the silhouette of a head to my left. I kept on running. Neck fully extended, I felt my strides stretch to maximum. Streams of sweat began to pool around my eyes, blurring my vision. Before I knew it, I was shouting, the loud squeals mixed unpleasingly with whirring sound of the cage. Its close. I glimpsed the pearly glint of teeth. I closed my eyes and ran. Sweat and piss made a pungent mixture on my skin. I heard a gnashing of teeth. Its over! I strained my neck, hoping to outlive the inevitable.

‘Please, stop.’

I will always remember that voice.

I slowed down to a jog and opened an eye. In the darkness, I saw another hamster.

From a non-descript room on the seventh floor, the whirring sound of something spinning finally stopped. Two hamsters looked at each other, one in a cage and the other on a table.

One of them said, ‘I’m just a hamster, living a life.’

JTL