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Historical Fiction Fiction Sad

๐“๐“พ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ป'๐“ผ ๐“๐“ธ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ: ๐“˜ ๐“ญ๐“ธ๐“ท'๐“ฝ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“พ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ผ๐“ช๐”‚ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ผ. ๐“˜๐“ฝ'๐“ผ ๐“น๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐”‚ ๐“ผ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ฝ ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“˜ ๐“ฏ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ต ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ด๐“ฎ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ฏ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ผ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“น๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ถ๐“น๐“ฝ. ๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ท๐“ธ๐“ฝ ๐“ผ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ, ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ฏ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ญ๐“ซ๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ด ๐“ฒ๐“ผ ๐“ช๐“น๐“น๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ฒ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ญ. ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ด๐“ผ ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ!


Six years.


Thatโ€™s how long I spent on that ship, the ship that never seemed to go anywhere good. The wind took our sails from one bomb to another, one battle to another. Never anywhere good.


I didnโ€™t have a purpose there, they could have survived this thing they call a โ€œwarโ€ without me. A few extra rats donโ€™t make the difference between life and death. But that didnโ€™t matter to them, they kept me on the floating disaster as nothing more than a solution to their rodent problem. I didnโ€™t have any choice but to kill one rat after another, to watch the blood stain the deck of the boat, to lose a part of myself with every passing day.


That ship took everything from me.ย 


Iโ€™ll never forget the explosion, the one I wasnโ€™t able to run from in time. The one that left me without a tail. I always loved having a tail, I could never understand how the Bipeds live without one. My tail was my balance, my best way to communicate, the way I expressed myself. Not anymore. Not after that bomb.


When I curled up in my hammock every night, the one Wyatt made me, my fur stood on end. When cold gusts of wind swept through the corridors in the middle of the night, smelling of death, my exposed nose seemed to freeze.ย But worst of all, when I lay awake freezing in the middle of the night, I couldnโ€™t wrap my tail around my body to preserve my warmth. I could only stare at the stub of where it used to be.ย 


As you might be able to tell, I hated the Bipeds. Well, all except for one. Heโ€™s gone now, though, and he isnโ€™t coming back. The disgusting thing they call a โ€œwarโ€ took him.


Wyatt made me less sure all Bipeds are appalling while he was with me on the endlessly sailing ship. All of them looked the same to me, with their identical uniforms and short, dark hair. All except Wyatt. It was something in his eyes that made me jump up into his waiting lap instead of retreating to the corner and hissing as I did around the other soldiers.


When Wyatt first found me, a stray having wandered onto the ship by mistake, he took me in. Feeding me scraps of food and convincing the captain to let me stay on as a โ€œship catโ€ as they called it. I was grateful then, now I wish I would never have stumbled upon this place. Back then I didnโ€™t know the ship was a vessel of death.


Wyatt didnโ€™t see us as two different species, he saw us as two souls fighting our way through the war together. He didnโ€™t treat me as a lesser being, calling me โ€œanimalโ€ in the condescending tone the other soldiers used, he called me Emmet. The name he gave me.ย 


โ€œWe wonโ€™t be here forever, Emmet,โ€ he would tell me, โ€œSomeday all of this will be over, and weโ€™ll be free. Youโ€™ll be able to come home with me and get off this god darn ship for good. I promise you that.โ€


The thing they call a โ€œwarโ€ made him break that promise.


Heโ€™s gone now, though. Thereโ€™s no sense in talking about him anymore.


๐ŸŸˆ๐ŸŸˆ๐ŸŸˆ


Ezra. Another crewmate on that cursed ship. I didnโ€™t personally care for him, but Wyatt seemed to trust him so I didnโ€™t run when he entered a room. Three days ago he told me heโ€™s taking me home to his family. I heard he has a child, Iโ€™m not excited. But anywhere seems better than where Iโ€™ve been.


He shoves me into a metal crate, leaving me to peer powerlessly out at the passing sights as he walks. He swings the carrier from side to side, making me slide back and forth inside. But Iโ€™m not surprised, the Bipeds are never considerate.ย 


When he walks us to the door and knocks, the door is immediately flung open by his tearful family. His wife, Hannah he calls her, looks so pale she might faint in the doorway. Their little girl, Mila watches. Sheโ€™s only five years old, Ezra said. She hasnโ€™t lived long enough to meet her father. Ever since she was born her dad was an imaginary figure, a superhero as her mother called him, never anyone she knew.


Ezra pulls her into a hug, leading her to the living room where he collapses onto the couch, letting Hannah cry into his shirt mumbling incoherent chopped-up sentences. Mila takes it in, standing beside my crate that has been left by the door.ย 


She slowly approaches my crate, her bare feet slapping against the floor, and she reaches out one hand to let me sniff. She smells like peanut butter cookies and applesauce. Not blood or death.


โ€œHere kitty kitty, come out and say hi,โ€ she says, opening the crate door and beckoning me forward. I cautiously step out onto the slippery floor. It feels strange to be standing on the still ground after so long on the water.ย 


Her hands are sticky, getting stuck in my ashy fur as she runs her fingers through it. The Bipeds never seemed to know how to clean themselves properly.


โ€œNice kitty,โ€ she whispers softly as she pets me. I donโ€™t hiss at her or run, she has an innocence to her that seems hard to come by these days.


๐ŸŸˆ๐ŸŸˆ๐ŸŸˆ


They tell me this place is home.ย 


I wonder, was the battleship home? I certainly wasn't happy there, but Iโ€™m not happy here either. Neither place makes me feel complete.


Every morning Mila pours kibble into a bowl on the floor and says, โ€œBreakfast time, kitty kitty.โ€


I reluctantly eat the dry food while she strokes my fur gently. I donโ€™t care for the Bipeds, but I can stand her.


Every night Mila picks me up, holding me close to her body as she walks into her room that is covered in daisy wallpaper. She sets me on her bed as she brushes her teeth then climbs under the covers next to me.ย 


โ€œSweet dreams, kitty kitty,โ€ she tells me.


I mew, then curl up in the puffy covers. The small blanket she drapes over me almost makes up for my lack of a tail.


As she slowly drifts off to sleep, her small wisps of her breathing evening out, I yawn and curl up to her side.


The thing they call a โ€œwarโ€ scarred all of us; young and old, furry and hairless, innocent and guilty. Even though the war has ended, the pain stayed with all of us. My only hope is that we can learn to bear the memories eventually.


February 08, 2021 23:26

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155 comments

00:02 Feb 09, 2021

This was a beautiful and unique story...it fit the prompt pretty well actually, and it was a different and nice take on it too! I loved how it was from a cat's perspective, though I'm a dog person myself :) It was short, sad, and heartfelt. Wonderfully written. I loved this read

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Maya -
00:03 Feb 09, 2021

Thank you! I like dogs and cats, I have a puppy but he's crazy so, cat's are calmer. XD

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00:05 Feb 09, 2021

Haha XD

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Maya -
00:21 Feb 09, 2021

;p :)

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13:05 Feb 09, 2021

NEW STORY

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Maya -
13:27 Feb 09, 2021

Okay!!! :DDD

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