Many countries in the world cycle the four seasons which change between hot and cold provoking animals to either seek shelter or to run wild outside. During this Belgian winter season it has been mildly cold, but bitter nevertheless. The other day while re-arranging my clothes, I noticed something moving in my peripheral vision. Curious, I moved toward the source of movement and jumped back in horror: a mouse wandered into my room. The mouse disappeared from my sight as it crawled underneath my bed and I ran down the stairs to alert every inhabitant in the house of my discovery. It is never good news to learn that rodents are roaming around in your house. My host dad searched my room for the wild animals, but it was already too late; the mouse was long gone. The only proof of the roadent's existence was imprinted on my shirts that had holes chewed through them. I suppose the mouse did not mean any harm; perhaps it decided my warm and cosy room was an exception to the cold exterior where winter was still lingering on. The only easy solution to suppress the multiplication of mice in a house is to set mouce traps. In my opinion, these contraptions are cruel and inhumaine, yet it is humanity's way of leisurely ridding themselves of their animal counterparts. Even though it's not the mices' intention of causing harm, my clothes and my nerves still rest victim to their abuse. Like the rest of humanity, my host dad and I set the barbarous inventions of mice traps around the house. None of the utensils of murder have caught its prey yet, on the other hand, only time can tell.