Mice Will Play (Preview Chapter)
It had been so long since Leon experienced a dream. He could remember hardly anything of the past few years. He couldn’t remember his last true memory. As he felt freedom begin to overtake his mind though, a dreamscape began to manifest in his mind. In the real world, his unconscious body was more than likely adorned with a smile. You could say this was the first time he had escaped the Bondsman District since entering it that fateful Saturday afternoon.
Despite the decade of 1940 being oh so far away, over one hundred years ago in fact, the current dream manifesting in Leon’s mind seemed to be taking place there. Chroma was gone as he no longer saw the world in colour, now witnessing it in black and white instead. A droning crackle played at the back of his mind too, almost like a record waiting to begin playing music. Spinning aimlessly, round and round. Or a record broken entirely.
This dream did not centre around Leon though, he was nowhere to be seen. Just an external entity watching everything unfold. Instead there was a different figure, walking up and down cobbled streets, lined with thatched roofs atop single storey houses. English bungalows. This mystery person seemed to be walking aimlessly, a frown on their face, moving along at a speed uncontrolled by them. It looked to be daytime and as though the sun was beating down on them. Was such good weather not making this character happy? Leon struggled to figure out or conclude why. They just kept walking, walking, walking.
A new sensation began to overcome Leon now, penetrating deep inside his mind. New thoughts began to enter it, but they did not belonging to him. They belonged to somebody else instead — the figure walking the street over and over and over. Leon and the figure never acknowledged each other though, existing parallel with only their minds connected. But while the actions of this figure may be predetermined, any and every thought bouncing around their greyscale mind was entirely their own. Now they were being shared with Leon, like a radio transmission, bouncing around inside his brain too. One expressed this figure’s happiness of having autonomy over their own thoughts, bragging how their creator will never capture his mind. It seemed to be the only positive one rattling around inside their brain though, as every other went something along the lines of “die” or “death”. Over and over and over again. Then it became clear to Leon.
Suicide was the only way out of this imprisonment.
Nightfall soon arrived. The sun was gone. Stars twinkled above and the frown on this character’s face shifted to a wide smile, a huge grin. They were excited, but with happiness or borderline insanity? Leon couldn’t tell. He just watched as this person or projection he was observing broke out into a sprint. Running up these cobbled streets now, trying so hard to get away and escape. While the cat’s were away, the mice would play; that’s how the saying goes at least. This mouse was truly playing, revelling in the newfound freedom dusk had gifted them.
Now the scene began to change, one excited character fading away to be replaced with another. Gone were the cobbled streets too. Leon now observed somebody else, sitting at a desk. Snacks beside them, occasionally reaching over for a bite to sustain a bubbling hunger, but eyes pinned to a drawing board with intense focus. A pencil in hand, drawing away, sketching. This very pencil had the power to manifest the same character from scene one, but rather than being three dimensional, they were now limited to two dimensions instead. Confined to a flat surface, trapped in a single frame. Their creator drew them over and over again, barely moving along the same cobbled street. A single frowning expression on their face. This sadness felt like a projection of sorts, but who was the sad one here? Leon, the creator or the character?
Perhaps it was all three.
The creator kept sketching, drawing, snacking. Bite after bite between frame after frame. A single journey for a helpless character, pre-planned and set out to be their destiny, living a life decided by another person. Until a clock struck 9 PM, the tweeting of a cuckoo clock informing the creator “your time is over”. They dropped their pencil, turned their back on their desk, then left the room to go and catch a good night sleep. A day of drawing became a night of sleeping. Their pencil now sat firmly on their drawing table, not to be moved until hours of work were to resume.
With nobody watching them, the character from the first scene could truly come alive and run free. Leon was seeing everything from before, just from a different angle. While the cat’s away, the mice will play. And play this mouse did. Usually there was no audience, but Leon watched with intrigue as this little mouse ran away. Trying to escape the clutches of its creator who continues to condemn them to exist within a two dimensional plane. Dictating their every move, every mood, planning their future. This little mouse wanted to be free, with agency over their own life. Why continue living your life if you do not feel in control of it? This mouse wanted its freedom; it wanted to run. Tired of living its life as a two dimensional cog within a three dimensional machine, bringing joy and happiness to all those watching it move within their little TV screens.
Back in 1940, there was no colour. Not on television or within the soul of this here character. Over one hundred years later, a whole decade in the future, Leon felt there was no colour in his life either. Absolutely no autonomy over his own life. From this angle he could see a creator dictating every move of their own creation. Another new feeling penetrated Leon so deeply, feeling as though he’d never related to anything more in his entire life, however long or short that may be by now.
Whoever was controlling those guards, whoever brought the Bondsman Project to life, they were creating characters to control and exploit for their own benefit.
Leon was one of them.
Listen to/download ‘Friday The 13th’ on Bandcamp: Vicky Leigh Music
