by Cole
Oil lanterns lit up the hay in such a way that the orange of the flame mixed with the brownish-yellow straws and created a rustic ambience within the barn. I stumbled in, in an attempt to get away from the hellish storm that seemed to have come out of nowhere. After inspecting the barn, making sure that I was, indeed, alone, I blew out the oil lanterns, and packed the hay into a clump that I could rest my head on.
As soon as I closed my eyes, I heard an otherworldly, yet familiar noise. It was a noise that was both intimidating, but somehow comical enough to give me pause. Cautiously, I stood up, and lit the lantern that was closest to me. What I saw then was no awesome sight. In fact, I have seen this scene many times over.
Before me, a cat with ears flattened to its head circled around what looked to be a large rodent. My first thought was to ignore the quarrel, thinking that it was not up to me to alter the balance of nature in such a way. It then dawned on me that this was a rather peculiar rodent. Upon further observation, I realized that this rodent was no possum, raccoon, mouse, or beaver. This rodent was an extremely large rat. The body alone on this rat had to be above seven inches. I didn’t bother to include the tail. “These two must know each other,” I thought to myself.
It seemed as though any attempt I made to sleep that night proved to be unsuccessful. The noises of the battle that raged on ten feet from where I lay, and the rain that fell from the sky like atom bombs made me restless. I don’t exactly know when it happened, but I eventually fell asleep, though it was not a peaceful sleep. I dreamed, in vivid detail, of the exact things I was running from, the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt. And hellfire.
I woke up itchy and uncomfortable. I had slept in a barn, after all. There was plenty of blood, but no remains of either of the creatures. The air outside was as pure as autumn. I walked to the other side of the barn, into the cornfields. I then realized the severity of my hunger. There was plenty of corn, however. I doubted that whoever owned this farm would miss a few ears. As soon as I reached for an ear, I heard a rustling behind me. The beady eyes of that rat met mine. It had to have been the same rat, it was wet and bloody as a newborn. What struck me as odd, was that the rat did not run away. It just looked at me. Suddenly, I saw an orange blur. The rat struggled to get free, but eventually let out its last breath. The cat had won. Through all of this, I kept eye contact with the rat. I saw the life drain away from it’s eyes. The rat in the end, could not escape. Its death was inevitable. “Inevitable” I thought to myself.
“You said there was no one in the house!”, I shouted in agony. “It matters not anymore. The deed is done.” He replied. “They screamed! They screamed and burned! I heard women! Children!” I could taste vomit. “An unfortunate mistake.” He replied coldly.
I awoke drenched in sweat. There are no words to describe the guilt I felt, like a thousand daggers against my back. Under a flickering street light, a lone payphone stood. Sighing, I went to it. I fished a quarter out of my pocket, and kissed it. “Inevitable” I said out loud. My voice was rough and tired as ever, as I hadn’t spoken in weeks. I slid the quarter into the machine, and dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
I hesitated.
“I’m turning myself in,” I said.
