A Weasle's story.

Day 550, 08:10 • Published in USA Greece • by Weasle

Once upon a time there was a weasel.

Weasel was a tricky person to understand, you see. His nature was to trick and decieve. To hate and destroy. And this poor weasle never knew how to truly love. He was a pitiful creature.

He alienated all his possible friends, and sabotaged his own chances at success. He was lazy, but intelligent. Unloved and uncaring. And, above all, he hated humanity.

Humanity had all that which he did not possess. And he was a jealous creature. They had love, friends, family, money, jobs, parties, games and fun. Most of all, what he was most evious was that which he had the most of. They had life.

So this immortal creature sat and watched, and slowly his wrath grew and grew. The feelings of loneliness and hate all consuming, as he watched the blue world spin under there human hands. With every achievement they grew more and more cunning, and him more and more angry.

Something was bound to give.

The weasel wasn't always like this. He had once had a lover. And he had once tried to live his life for other people. In his youth, in his innocence, in his childhood, he was a good person. Sometimes, late at night, he would ask himself, whatever happened to that kid of yesteryear? The kid who could have fun, and the kid who could love and be loved, without care for life outside these walls?

None of the awnsers made him any happier. Soon the weasel became cold and distant, his philosophy leading the way. Even those still around him, began to drift, and this became fuel for the icy fire. His pain was that of rejection. Rejection of self and of others. Rejection of life.

Finally, he had had enough. In order to ease the pain inside himself, he lashed out. He attacked his best friend. Mark, the human, had stuck with weasle through thick and thin. He was the weasel's moral compass. His only connection to humanity. When the weasel was sad, he gave him a hug. When the weasel was hungry, he fed him. When the weasel was angry, he comforted him. When the weasel was bored, he challenged him. He made him question everything that was himself.

Last night, Mark died.

Once upon a time, there was a weasel. But life isn't a fairy tale. Just ask Weasle.