The rain poured down from the monotonous grey sky. Every person in sight was disguised in heavy raincoats, hats and scarves to protect them from the dastardly elements. People in the restaurants were eating and drinking their fill. Underground, however, it is a totally different story.
Us rats have a terrible life! We scavenge for food in the dirty old bins of this town looking for any morsel of food we can find. The day before yesterday I actually got lucky, I managed to find some food in a desolate old dump. I found a whole sandwich, it even had some meat in it. It was worth searching for eternity and then being rewarded with this feast.
Don't be fooled by those idiots on television, 'Pinky and The Brain', they are fictional creatures devised to project a nice image of a rat's life, and as for this 'taking over the world business', well, what can I say! The closest my friends and I have ever come to taking over the world is shutting down our former refuge knows as 'McDonald's Take-Away'.
The general view of rats is that we are dirty, smelly and usafe race. All of those derogatory terms are untrue. If people would actually bother to leave us food instead of us having to go to the local germ infested dump to have our daily meals, then we would be a lot less smelly and dirty. As for unsafe! I have never harmed any animal in my life, unless you count biting that pig Joey from across the road. I bit him on the foot! Oh, how I loved to hear him scream; that'll teach him not to spread poisonous meal around his shop ever again.
I have to go now, my friends are calling me, Big Joey's hot-dog shop had just opened, time to put another person out of business. Hope I see you before you see me. Ha! Ha ! Ha!

Unknown by Robert
I opened my eyes suddenly, the noise had come from downstairs. There was someone or something moving around down there. I shot up in my bed! Slowly I removed the duvet covers losing all sleepiness with the thought of the situation at hand. I froze completely; there was a scratching noise under my room, where the kitchen was situated. I searched desperately to provide me with some protection. Suddenly it hit me! My bug spray! I stretched over to the locker, it was within my easy reach. I clenched it firmly in my hand and then I fumbled it, luckily I caught it before it hit the floor.
I crept delicately on a layer of clothes and other bits and pieces, I'm not a very tidy person, over to the door of my room. Silent opening, thank heavens for oil! I treaded carefully past my parent's room, watching for the loose creaky boards, avoiding anything that would create a disturbance. I reached the lower floor of my house. The rooms seemed to emit an irritating icy feeling.
Everything had a strange mysterious feeling. I slowly edged towards the room from where the disturbance appeared to originate, just controlling my nervousness and the urge to chatter, the floor was freezing and I had forgotten to put on my socks. The door creaked painfully open. I peered cautiously inside. I flicked the light switch but to no avail, the bulb was dead. I vacated the room and approached my father's golf bag. Reaching in I grabbed a 'nine-iron', you never know when it would come in handy. There I stood with my golf club, motionless, then I stealthily manoeuvred myself towards the kitchen. I leapt into the room using the element of surprise to find a vast nothingness. I stomped upstairs, my temper boiling over as I passed my parents room. I lay back down on the bed and flung the covers over me.
The next night the same thing happened, but this time I was better prepared. I had my 'Ever-Ready' torch and my cricket bat beside the bed. My parents were out feasting in a new Italian restaurant on
the waterfront. It was just me, me and something. I was the reluctant home-made commando.
I moved towards the stairs and searched the lower level although the beam from my torch was quite powerful enough to reveal all the shadowy details. I stomped downstairs, not caring for the consequences. I was filled with bravery, I rushed headlong into the blackness. My nervousness evaporated like steam. There was no turning back. I flung open the door and yelled till I went hoarse. I swung around me, striking everywhere. I hit something, it wasn't the microwave. Glowing white eyes and humungous mouth grinning at me like a psychopath glowing in the dark. He was a brilliant red with dark shadings. I swung straight at him but it was no use. It just swung through him. I shouted, kicked and screamed at him to leave. There was a long pause as he dim-wittily understood that his presence wasn't wanted here. He drifted through the wall. To this day, I still don't know if it was and alien or beast and I guess I never will.

Our Midnight Visitor by Shane
I opened my eyes slowly and looked around my bedroom. The room was pitch black. A rustling sound had awoken me from a deep sleep. I wanted to stay in bed and ignore it but I was over come with curiosity. I just had to leave the comfort of my cosy bed and venture over to the window. As I walked across my room I stepped on various toys which were spread across the darkened floor. When I got to the window I looked out onto the back garden which was lit by the pale light of the harvest moon and there, creeping silently to the dustbin, was a small, thin, emaciated fox.
I stood rooted to the spot as I watched the cunning little creature move cautiously towards the bin. It stopped dead in its tracks for a moment as if it had sensed danger but then continued on. As I watched, I became more and more sympathetic towards the creature. It mustn't have had a decent feed for weeks. I felt like walking into the kitchen, removing the large turkey that mam was keeping for Christmas from the fridge and offering it to that poor fox. But I knew that if I entered the garden the fox would dart back to its den and not get any scrap of food at all, therefore making matters worse.
BANG! The sound of a dustbin lid hitting the ground suddenly drew my attention back to what the cunning hunter and scavenger was doing, I looked around but could not sight the midnight raider anywhere. Then I noticed a movement inside the dustbin. The fox was scavenging in it for scraps or leftovers of food it could find. Subsequently the fox jumped out of the bin with a large scrap of raw meat. Sometimes I wonder how wild animals can get satisfaction out of eating scraps like that. I watched as the fox cautiously crept towards a small gap in the hedgerow. The figure then stopped and stared straight at me. His large eyes glowing in the darkness. It was as if the creature had put me into a trance.
As I stared into the fox's bulging eyes I saw sadness and loneliness, yet I also noticed determination and hope. It was almost as if I had entered the scavengers mind. Then, without warning, the fox was gone. I couldn't believe how quickly he had departed. In the blink of an eye our midnight visitor had disappeared into the night.

Back to Archives