Hot and Thirsty...

I walked alone for too long.

And at the end of my life, it never became a thought that flashed before my eyes as I recalled my life flash before I crossed the bar.

I saw no parents, no bright light, or felt like I belonged. My eyes shut, and it was dark. Then I felt scorching heat and a thirst I'd never known.

The only problem is that I didn't know I crossed the bar and was lost. Being lost is a horrible and scary feeling that nobody could ever wish for.

Stuck where I never knew I could be, I saw coal workers, drone bees, and busy anthill ants moving like tiny, short, busy cities that knew their outcomes and focused without direction from an overseer.

Not being noticed was new. I looked around and wondered how I had arrived since nobody had met me or anticipated I was coming from what I could tell.

But I was wrong. I turned because of a movement out of the corner of my eye, and as I did, an unknown object struck me and knocked me to the ground.

Black flying monkeys with red eyes that move quickly and resemble imps. Most of the impact I absorbed was in my torso. But as I hit the ground, rats crawled across my face and began to chew on my nose. They, too, had red, red eyes.

Before I could reach up to slap the disgusting rodent away, another pack landed on my hands and began chewing and licking my hands. Specifically, my fingertips. It was like a baby calf sucking its mother for milk.

I lay there thinking about Willard and wondering if the rat on my face was Willard himself. I looked deeply into his eyes. As soon as he saw mine, he paused, looked scared, and retreated, as did the others in short order.

I had no strength; I couldn't get up. Weak and powerless, I couldn't feel my face, nor could I use my hands. I was at the mercy of those long-tailed bastards.

My eyes shut. I awoke in a room on an operating table. The head rat who had made eye contact with me held a scalpel and drew near. I felt each cut, but I didn't care.

Something made me feel like I was floating, and opium was my friend. I thought about how these rats are doing this and why they are doing it to me.

My answer never came to me, and I wanted to scream, but I knew the rats' attraction to my body parts could provoke a feeding frenzy during the operation and take away from the real reason I was there.

The first incision was the worst because it was so deep. And once that happened, rats flew out of my abdomen and attacked the surgeon with a vengeance.

More and more rats emptied my body, and without much adieu, I was sewn up and able to stand without difficulty. Red eyes left me, and the rats' eyes turned black.

Once that happened, the rats scattered as rats do when they see humans, despite them having left my abdomen. It shocked me to see that all of these rats were obviously connected to me.

I made my way out of the ER and toward a restroom. When I saw my face in the mirror, my jaw hung open after my gasp.

Looking back at me, I saw what I had been looking for with these rats: Willard.

My stomach surged with shock and anxiety, and I longed for what was: the life I lost before I arrived wherever I was and had become Willard.

I banged on the glass, "Let me out!"

Others in the glass area with me laughed at me.

"You're not getting out of here. What are you stupid?" Another rat said.

"Are you talking to me?" I said. "What the fuck do you know?"

"I know I've been here a lot longer than you. I know I came here the same way you did."

"How do you know how I got here? Did you see me arrive?"

"Absolutely, how could I not? Everyone did."

"How do you mean everyone? How many are there here?"

"More than you want to know, my friend."

"Where is here? Incidentally?" I asked, not expecting this other rat to know or to have a plausible answer.

"It's..." A bell rang, and there was a vast scatter, and then I was left alone on the floor.

I looked around and crouched as tiny as I could into a ball. But it was the fur that got away from me. I never knew why I got there, stood alone, and scooped up the little mouse that ran past me. I took it under my body, and it nestled in and slept when it got there.

No longer afraid, I thought what I did was the right and noble thing to do. However, the mouse ran from a cat, Tom. Tom was enormous, massive, and frightened me by his sight.

He knew where the mouse was, sized me up, and went for it. Hunger could've been the motivation, or perhaps just playfulness and curiosity.

Dying twice did not appeal to me, so I prepared to fight. I made a big mistake since I was a human: I became a rat with no clue how to live and do a rat.

Yet I was a rat, doing rat, and the fight was going on as the mouse scurried away—ingrate, I thought. Swipes, scratches, and bites quickly told me I was in peril.

I knew I had to split, but each blow weakened my chances to flee before I lost my rat life, too.

I saw movement through my peripheral vision, and instead of alerting Tom to it, I remained focused on him and taking his blows.

It was a huge blow, and whatever was in my peripheral vision of the colony attacking Tom.

They saved me. Why? Did they recognize me as Willard? What was the reason for saving me? Some of these rats I had never met. Yet here they were all coming to my defence.

I stood and took a deep breath, but I could not get my breath.

Then, one rat jumped atop my face and breathed a huge breath into my mouth and nose. At that minute, I collapsed.

On my way down, I realized I longed for anything other than this but, more importantly, the life I took of mine.