She lay on her back, dying. Two antennae in the form of a v opened and closed in rapid succession. As they brushed together, she felt the urge to survive. Lying on the white tile helped her body cool, giving her energy. She kicked her legs, trying to roll to one side; rocking, swaying. She realized the upright position desired was not possible.
Light flashed and remained. The passion to scurry made her heart race. The inability to move strained inside to the point of becoming an internal spear of fire. She wanted to see the intruder. Barely raising her head, she saw a form. It was a human. The human would probably crush her. I'm going to be smashed with a boot or a sock or a towel. It doesn't matter. Smashed is smashed.
There was darkness. The smashing did not come. The warmth inside her body waned. She thought of her children. They could not find her here. She had traveled to far from home. She could not stand watching their hunger grow. They had become weak and were starving. Sustenance had to be found. She had smelled food when she decided to inspect the white tundra, but the odor had since evaporated. The door had closed and the doorway tightly sealed.
It was morning. She thought it was morning. Humans being humans, he could return at any given time. Sometimes she went for days without the sight of these giants. They love to kill her kind. Oh, how they admire grabbing a napkin or a newspaper or- God forbid- fire from their torches and making a show of violence.
Hunger and thirst swelled by the hour. She grew more tired. If her mate were here, he could save her. The passing of time seemed endless. She grew fragile, wanting to concede her life. Her legs no longer kicked. Breathing slowed as life faded. She remembered how she loved to be alive. She remembered how she loved giving birth. Now she would die.
Light! It was the human. Perhaps the human would save her. Maybe, deep inside, during a moment of compassion, the human would take pity on her and save her. No, he would not save her. It is a human. At best, she would be left alone to starve, thirst and seek air in exasperating gulps. She saw two huge orbs, pulsating and twitching. The human is looking at her!
Some things are not right. She maintained a balance of her life and never causing injury, never complaining, never resting in search of food for her children. Some things are not right, like lying on your back, helpless.
She gathered all her strength, plucked from deep inside, straining to kick and roll. She rocked back and forth, creating a stronger thrust. With all her might, she pushed and pushed, rolling the rear of her body. She plunged her head forward and finally fell into an upright position. At last, she had a chance to be free!
She swiftly scrambled toward the large White Mountain, trying to scale its thick wall. Two slides down and she scurried into a tiny nook of the mountains' base. She watched the human's shadow, poking and weaving. Her body tensed as the shadow neared.
There was silence. The light disappeared. She hesitated as the light reappeared. She could see that the door was open. With all the speed she could muster, she ran as fast as she could toward the opening. She was now in another room. She waited for the human to follow her. The human did not follow her. She recognized her surroundings and sped toward where her children waited for mother to come home.
