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If Christmas trees could talk what would they say? |
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Whitie |
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Whitie
Tragedy
 Created on 4-25-08
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 Story Rating G
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It was a slow day today. I wasn’t up last night like I usually was, for a cat. I am expecting kittens any day now, my first batch! I used the extra sleep, I needed it.
In the morning I woke, it was a lot quieter than it usually was for mornings around here. It was the weekend, two days after my first birthday, April 17th. The humans still have not put out our breakfast; they always put the food out later on weekends.
I sat on the back stairs with my brother, sister, and mother. We were all waiting for breakfast. When we could, we would sneak into the house when the humans opened the door. Usually that would make them put food out for us, so we would stop coming inside.
I noticed the tall older man human, the husband, Tim. He was working outside again, like he did most days, nothing different. It looked like he was going somewhere, he was always going somewhere. He started the large red smelly car, then he went inside again.
I got tired of waiting for food. I was gong to get a big drink of water to quench my hunger a little longer, especially before I went out for hunting. I headed to the driveway puddle. I sat down in front of it; I let my long tongue reach down into the water and began drinking. There was some other commotion going on around me, but I was too busy drinking to care. The door which I was sitting by earlier opened, I looked out the corner of my eye. It was Tim again. I drank the water some more.
Later, I heard the sound of gravel crackling against the driveway, I didn’t look. It was faster now. It got closer. Severely distracted I looked up, and for less than what seemed a second, I saw black tread, I didn’t have time to move. I felt my head being smashed into the ground; then nothing…
“What am I doing?” I asked myself. I saw my self; my face was in the puddle that I was previously drinking out of, I wasn’t moving, I was lying down face in the puddle. I heard small voices beside me. “Are you coming mom, are you coming?” I looked at them; they were my kittens. Know I knew what had happened, I died. I waited a little longer, staring at my self in disbelief.
I felt so different, so pure, so painless, and so different. I heard the back door open again. It wasn’t Tim, no; it was my owner, Carol. I saw her face. I never understood what they said, but this was clear and I knew what it meant.
Carol went inside, and shortly came back outside with her mom after I heard her call, “Mom! There’s a dead cat out side!” not too much longer, my owner, my friend, my human that I loved so much had come back outside. She looked at me, hoping, praying that it wasn’t me, that it could have been a different cat. I looked along with her. I saw her face change after she was sure that it was me. “Whitie baby.” She said. “Whitie Whitie” she said, that was my name and those were nicknames.
Carol’s mom embraced her as she cried. I felt so bad. I should have been paying more attention. I was her best friend, I was like her baby, and I was dead.
The girl had to leave for work. She stood there one last time and watched as her mom picked me up out of the puddle, the blood draining out my eye, the rest of my body soaked in my own blood. Her mom moved me, later for her other daughter to burry me. The girl left and I was gone. I will watch her from heaven now, waiting for her day of arrival, and soon, we will all be together again.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On April 28th 2008 bandinstructor Said : | |
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that is so sad. i've had similar problems. hope you feel better |
