Make Believe

4.

It is fascinating how some people dream of being a free wild animal in a beautiful old and unspoilt forest. Do they not imagine an animal's perspective? Do animals, in return, dream of becoming people in a lively vibrant city, filled with temptations and happiness? After all, a forest still has some kind of hierarchy, there are still underprivileged creatures, only they are called prey...

Take Kai Mitchell for example. Kai Mitchell is a mouse. Prey, if you will. He isn't particularly extraordinary, nor does he have any distinguishable talents. And, like mice, there are many similar to him. Ordinary people, those you see walking down the street and by the time they pass you, you've already forgotten them. Ironically, some of them have interesting, rare names that their parents bestowed upon them in hopes their children will be just as amazing.That is, in fact, another of their similarities to mice, even if it is only lexical. Going back to my early English-learning days, I remember how my six-year-old mind was absolutely convinced that such a boring animal as a mouse deserved nothing more than the ordinary plural form of 'mouses'. Instead, I was presented with the irregularity that are 'mice'.

But let us go back to Kai Mitchell. Now, I have never had the pleasure of meeting him in person. As a matter of fact, I have not even heard of such a man. Unfortunately for him, Kai is just a figment of my imagination, he is only an object in the previous paragraph, someone I used to start my train of thought. However, now that I have my attention focused on him, I can let him fulfil his original purpose, which was being the protagonist of my story. But what story can I write about such a bland and unimportant man? He has done nothing interesting in his life! In fact, the most interesting event he has ever experienced is the tragic car crash I just made up which led to his unfortunate death.

What is left now of this story? My thoughts, a dead man and a few mice. How do I save this?

A butterfly flies by my mice. An eagle, which is chasing it to provide his newly-hatched with whatever nourishment he can find, notices the mice and forgets thge butterfly. The eagle, I have decided, is the last of its kind. Shall the little ones die, his species will become extinct. Now, thanks to my mice, the order of the universe is restored (or something along those lines). Could Kai's death have a similar effect?

Maybe, distracted by a butterfly, Kai drove his car straight into a tree and died on impact. Maybe, affected by his death, Kai's grandson - or daughter (or however else they identified) - decided to start attention-span-broading courses, both for drivers and for pedestrians. Maybe, after the grandson/daughter/other was knocked down by a wild cyclist and had to spend the rest of their life in a wheelchair, their child took over the family business and expanded it to include cyclists and eventually many others, even drivers of flying cars. Maybe that same child received a Nobel Prize for peace after preventing millions of deaths that could have been caused by distracted drivers/pedestrians/cyclists/pilots/etc.

So here we are now, standing in a tiny corner of my mind in front of Kai Mitchell's grave (untouched by time thanks to the magical qualities of imagination). In another tiny corner of that same mind his grand-grandchild receive their Nobel Prize and remember to mention him in their speech. He is, after all, the namesake of 'Kai Concentration Inc.', an ironic name consideing his lack of said quality.