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The Day the Mouse Died

written by: Angel Daemon

@BlutengelDaemon

 

I was a little boy, aged at about four
Had a loving mother, couldn’t ask for more
My dad not in sight, left mom over a simple fight
I began having headaches that wouldn’t go away.
Doctors came and went but the pain managed to stay
No medicines or therapy were good for a cure
I was just an innocent child and so damn pure
The wicked pain was so unbearable
My soul couldn’t escape the agony of feeling terrible
We lived in an old two story house
Clean but one day mother saw a tiny mouse
She decided to lay down a trap
As I lay in the night for an eight hour nap
I heard a loud echoing snap
In the trap, I saw a white mouse near its death
Neck nearly cracked and struggling for another breath
I sat next to it watching it slowly die
At the time, I didn’t understand why
Suddenly the pain in my head began to subside
On the exact moment that the mouse died
From that day on unbeknownst to mother
A few animals I began to smother
The pain left as I ended their beastly lives
Using my hands, sometimes mother’s kitchen knives.
A few mice, rats and even bunnies
Trust me I was smiling but didn’t find it funny
I hated to have to kill to rid my pain
Some may call it evil and others insane
As I grew older my soul became colder
I graduated from kittens and puppies
To killing boring old loser yuppies
One day I was strolling through a park
I met a beautiful girl as it slowly became dark
She shook my hand and the pain went away
I was surprised and wanted her to stay.
I no longer had to kill, her love removed the pain, I was thrilled
She declined when I asked her to be my wife
I didn’t understand, I thought I was the love of her life
She touched me and the pain didn’t flee
It stayed and now she is worthless, if only to me
I removed her heart and oh what a feeling
I thought this would be the start of my healing
However, I was back to the same routine
Why is happening? What does it mean?
I would heal by the pain of others, when they suffered and cried
But nothing felt more peaceful than the day the mouse died.

Angel Daemon

Angel Daemon

Writing is my life even if I have never been published. I have created 4 literary worlds. This way the creative possibilities are endless. I write dark stories, scripts and poetry. My goal is to make it as a screenwriter.
Angel Daemon

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