Astray

Content warning: This story contains references to the death of a pet due to violence.

“Feel free to run away”. Not the usual stray cat, are you?, I thought to myself. I could barely spot its black fur. The street lamp above my head was buzzing and humming, but the cat was sitting just outside the cone of light.

“Or stay there”. He did just that.

Always late, I thought as I turned impatiently in my seat. A time table was hanging right next to me. I kept looking at it for some reason, and it in turn stared right back at me, completely useless. Ten minutes late.

The cat was still there, but it was now sitting a bit closer. I could see its whiskers glowing and reflecting the yellow light.

“Now you’re creeping me out”. The cat suddenly stood up, stretched, and slowly walked away. It finally got bored.

As I looked away from the cat, I found myself tapping my foot on the ground. I felt uneasy, but the bus had nothing to do with it. With a sigh and a scowl, I once again glanced at the cat.

It was looking at me. The mouth of the stray cat opened, but barely a sound was produced. Such a thin and delicate voice! Then it turned and resumed its stroll.

That meow…

My foot was still now, and I had forgotten that I had a bus to take. I stood up and followed the cat.

“You are a curious one”, I said.

Once close enough, the little creature sped up slightly. I was barely able to keep up. The poor illumination of that part of town wasn’t helping. I had to concentrate on its tail to be able to follow. And follow I did, but without caring for the path we were taking. I did not notice the alley, and then the park, and then the stairs. I lost myself on Curious’ shining fur.

And I was fine with this trance, really.

Curious had a peculiar gait. It bounced slightly at each step, but in a very gracious way. The familiar look of its posture was heartwarming, and it whispered to me like a lullaby.

But this brief respite was not meant to last. As I lost myself in pursuit of Curious, the warmth quickly gave way to a shiver. Unwelcome memories with their persistent voices.

I wasn’t aware of the passing time. My feet were hurting, but I turned my back to that pain. It was not important.

It was easier to follow now. We were passing a dirty and narrow alley, but some of the kiosks around us were still open, and the store signs were shining a cold light.

My body was now walking in complete autonomy. My feet were dragging, but they did their job. In my head, a very sad tone slowly surfaced. Are you familiar with that feeling of remembering a melody, knowing full well it will be your ear worm for the next few hours?

I remember listening to this particular song before. I listened to it during sleepless night. I listened to it while failing to study. After showering, I often stood in my bathrobe, completely still, earphones in place. And I lost myself in its notes. Those times, my train of thought showed no mercy. It had a script to follow, and it did so without missing a line. It pulled no punches.

When I listened to that music, I lived and relived the worst memory I had. Once the play started, I couldn’t interrupt it. Did I have a choice? I think so, but that didn’t matter. It was my sick duty to keep listening. And with each new line, this tragic script would paint an accurately painful picture in my head.

Curious had now stopped. It then sat down. We were in a dark road with many closed shops. It was deserted.

I sat in a nearby bench, and Curious jumped on my lap.

“What a Curious cat you are”.

My hand mechanically caressed its black fur. Black soft fur that I caressed many times before.

I was silent, but there was relentless rampaging in my head. I did not notice the purring of Curious as my mind, once again, slipped away from reality.

“They kicked her”, shouted my past self, while my soul broke.

“They kicked her but I couldn’t help”. I wept as my parents raced outside. When they brought her back inside, my watery eyes only caught a glimpse. She wasn’t well. They took her somewhere I could not see, and did their best to save her.

For a few days she fought. But then she lost. And I remained in this world, forever scared and cowardly; I would have to pay the price for that, sure enough. Because in every silent moment I was reminded of that melody, and of the play that unfolded in my head whenever I listened to it.

“It wasn’t your fault”, I was told many times. Everyone was kind to me. But I did not for one second intend to whisper a comforting word to myself.

I loved her. I hated reliving her desperate meowing, but I was also not ready to let that memory slip away.

The years passed. I lived many days since then, and many of them were happy and care free. I matured, met people, kissed and hated. My appearance changed as I settled into some teen that looked happy. And I was often happy. But little did my friends know, that while I allowed myself to live a mostly normal life, that harsh judgment was always ready to resurface. When my guard was down, those memories would once again barge in with full force. There was no escaping it.

I cried silently, sitting in a bench, with a cat in my lap. The cat in my lap, the one I had so hastily named after the first word I could think about, was still purring.

I was drowning in regret, but Curious was focusing on something else entirely. It was looking up, his black round eyes connecting with mine. I felt the smallest amount of warmth surrounding me.

I patted Curious’ head.

“You are a sweet cat”, I whispered. “But I swore I wouldn’t have a pet again. Not after that”. Curious did not seem to care for my words.

“You might not want me as your companion”, my voice broke. Curious suddenly jumped down and mouthed its silent meow. He walked under the bench.

“You meow just like her”.

I stood up and looked around. It was once again sitting down in a proud way, sort of like a cat king or queen would sit.

I slowly started walking towards it, and then I froze. I had just noticed the shop whose window Curious was sitting in front of. It was a perfume shop. Inside was dark, but I could see items on display, and the advertisement of a sale. I froze after discovering the sign of the store. It was unlit, but I could see it just as well.

Forgiveness, it read.

I kept staring at it without moving. More tears.

I picked Curious in my arms just as its mouth opened. That quiet voice a warm blanket, and its purring medicine for my aching self.

The notes were still playing in my head. I imagined that I would always hear that music, that it would always find its way to me whenever I felt weak or tired. But in that particular moment, Curious’ purring was louder. I turned around and walked.

“Let’s go home”.