The Price of a Dream

A Memory Long Lost

        I stretched my legs as I let out a yawn. The autumn sun's rays shined brightly through the door of my home. I let out a sigh and jumped out of my bed.

My name is Rico, by the way. I am a gerbil that lived in an underground hole as a youngster. I still live there, but it has lost almost all the deeper meaning and care it once had. I still have flashbacks of some of the Memories we had in this house, and I sometimes hear mother's gentle voice beckoning to us, or The whistles from our father as he was busy working. By "us" I am referring to my best pal, Levi.   He was the best thing that I ever had. He was like my guardian angel. Most of the time though, I was foolish enough to ignore his wisdom and insights. He was a young field mouse whose true parents died when he was just a mouseling. So my parents took him in to live with us.  Levi was always somewhat of a timid creature, but he would try his hardest to hide it and be as polite and considerate as possible. We were so close in age, as well as in spirit.  Although he was a lot more smarter and vigilant than I was or ever could be.

Then there were my parents; My mother and father. I loved them dearly. They cared about us more than we ever could know. Mother was always so gentle in her ways of Raising us, and didn't have a short temper at All. But she could be stern when it was necessary.  And, because mischief is bred into the hearts and souls of a young gerbil and a field mouse alike, sometimes it was. She was patient though, and very forgiving. In our eyes, she had hardly a flaw, or so we believed. "Nobody is perfect," She would always say to us, "So just be yourself, but take caution"  We never understood what she meant by that, until later on in our lives.

  My father however, was a completely different story. He was very loud and strict with his discipline. If us boys ever did or said anything "Intolerable" in his eyes, we would get the painful treatment of a switch to our rears, or worse;  a century-long lecture about why we did whatever wrong we did. But when we were obedient, he had a soft, loving side to him as well. Father was a farmer, and so he had Us help him out with the planting of the crops And such things leading up to the "Harvest Week" Which we obliged to very eagerly.

"Harvest Week" was the most exciting time of the year, aside from holidays. Levi and I would scurry out into the open fields and excitedly collect all of the various fruits and vegetables  that had been planted months before. This  was always a satisfying experience, and  then we would give our harvest to mother,  who would then cook them up for our dinners.  This was one of the few times a year when we would ever get to taste a tomato or a carrot. Most of the time, we only had seeds for our daily meals. Believe it or not, it was always enough to feed and fill us. Holidays were the best days in our house. Ma would always decorate The home with fresh-picked holly berries that she would find as she took her daily walks. We would(on rare occasions) attempt to eat them, Which ended in panicked squeals from mother, and medicine and sick days for us. There was a deep love of Christmas in our home, however when I was a youngster, I never felt anything except avarice And selfishness. Levi was the direct opposite of me, and he enjoyed taking part of the hymns, dances And other traditions without any shame at all. That was the only holiday we ever celebrated, because my parents saw no reason to partake in any other.

Although there was nothing traumatic happening in the "cozy hole", I always felt an emptiness inside me. A gaping hole hungering for adventure and thrill. I had a vision Of my own life; as perfect as could be, which proved to be both unhealthy and unrealistic. This was one of my annoying quirks which kept my mother worried, And my father strict in his ways of teaching me. Life In the cozy hole was in my opinion, "boring and dull" That was my first mistake, a mistake that nearly cost me all my sanity.

Which brings me back to the present. I started walking around the house; reminiscing on past memories of the once bubbling life I had. It all started one chilly December morning, When my desire to see the world for myself became so vexing and uncontrollable that I needed to express It to someone who was willing to listen.