Under the floorboards

"Mum, why can't I go out and see the Beans? Sure they're big, but I promise, they won't see me! I'll be careful! Like you and dad said, borrowings in my blood!" I pestered my mother, who had never once let me leave the house. I constantly nagged her for almost my whole life about borrowing. To be allowed to just catch a glimpse of that huge thing they call a cat, or to figure out why whenever the Beans upstairs turn on the Hoover, we basically get sucked up until we hit the roof of our "home"; which was items from a doll house tucked away, under the floor where the Beans can't see us. But just as usual, she shook her head and gave me a cross look.

"For the hundredth time! No! You're too young!" I gave a huff if defeat and stormed out of the kitchen, basically dragging my body up to my room in defeat. It wasn't fair. She always kept my cooped down here, where there was little to no light and I could never see the sky. All my life I've been stuck down here, trapped under rows of wooden planks, where I was "safe" and out of sight; where not a Bean could see me. Stuck forever, under the floorboards.