The Undead Princess

The Beginning Before The Beginning

It is the crack of the morning and I get awoken by my banshee of a grandmother screaming bloody murder. 

I can feel any color I may have on my face drain the moment my eyes open. I am still lying on my bed slightly paralyzed and overwhelmed as a million images flash through my mind. Then, my Mema releases another blood-curdling scream like no other. This time, I do not waste any moment as her screech makes me run out of my bedroom and towards her. Wherever she is. Perhaps she fell from a high height while trying to reach a shelf? I shake my head the moment that thought enters my brain. Mema may be sweet but she is very lazy. She would rather stop me mid-bath to get the sandals near her feet than reach for them herself. My face winces as I think of the most probable cause for her screams. She must have tripped on her own two feet while she was walking. Mema can be very clumsy with her pigeontoed feet sometimes, and her clumsiness has worsened over the years. I wipe the sweat off my brow as I finally reach where she is, but I am surprised by the sight I see.

There in front of my own two eyes is my Mema with no physical ailment to her person. However, the short five feet tall woman is curiously on top of a chair with a broom that she is holding close to her chest. I try to get closer to her, but she motions for me to stop.

"Mema! What's wrong? Why are you on that chair?"

"My dear Theia," she begins, "I was making your favorite breakfast for your birthday - and this, this rat! It just scurried under the table out of nowhere! Please... take it away." she nearly faints while pointing at the scared rat in the corner.

I look in the direction of where her pointy index finger is directing, and I see a skinny brown mouse cornered with a couple of wooden spoons near it.

Poor thing. Mema must have thrown kitchen utensils at it.

I stifle a laugh and my Mema gives me a glare. I raise my two arms defensively and go towards the cupboards we have in search of a mason jar to contain the creature.  Eventually, I find a glass big enough to fit the mouse in, and with caution, I approach it.

"Don't be scared, little guy. I'm just trying to take you somewhere safe." I gingerly speak while getting closer to the poor brown thing.

Once I finally feel like the rat cannot escape, I gently entrap the scared creature and begin walking towards the exit of our cottage. 

"You are an angel my dear. Also, please wash your hands before you eat your breakfast." Mema shouts before I close the door.

"Yes Mema," I reply.

The rustling of the leaves crunches beneath the shoes that I am wearing. This crunching beneath my two feet continues as I venture deeper into the forest. After a good distance away from the cottage, I set the rat free. One may call me paranoid for walking such a long distance to release the mouse, but I would hate to see the little guy try to trespass our home again. Especially because I cannot let it scare Mema again. She's getting frailer as the years pass and I don't want her health to decline from a big scare. Even if her version of a big scare includes rodents. I love my Mema but she must get over her irrational fear of rodents. We live in the forest after all! She cannot freeze up whenever a squirrel is nearby. 

I watch as the murky-colored mouse flees from the mason jar and runs off into the wilderness. Then, just as he is about to enter a pile of leaves, he turns around for a couple of seconds. Maybe he is thanking me for not hurting me. Or maybe he is cursing me for removing him from a cozy shelter that had food. Whatever the reason,  the curious creature then turns around and hides under some greenish-reddish leaves.

I let out a small confused laugh, and continue my walk deeper into the forest that I was raised in. I promptly stop when I reach the familiar crystal clear pond that I like to think I only know about. A deep exhale of air escapes my mouth. I can feel my chest slowly release all the tension that I had from this morning's ruckus as I take in another deep breath of air. Then, I lay on the foliage of this forest and admire the trees that seem to raise high onto the heavens.