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Author's Note: This is the fourth (and final) part of a story I wrote last semester for a short story writing class. However, this part was written as a bonus, as it was never included in my original draft. Thanks for reading, and for being patient while I posted each part of the story :)
Trigger Warning: This story discusses anxiety and physical abuse.
Argo has never been fortunate enough to try ice cream. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so fortunate for him, seeing as he’s a cat, but despite this lack of ice cream, he’s had a pretty good life. He celebrated his eleventh birthday last month, and he’s always been healthy. By all accounts, he should live a few years longer.
But recently, fate has decided to toy with him like one of the blue feathers he loves to paw at.
His fur has begun to fall out in clumps. His appetite wanes a little more each day. He doesn’t want to play anymore, not that anyone would have time to play with him anyways.
His owners are nice, don’t get him wrong. They feed him, bathe him (unfortunately), and occasionally dress him in ridiculous holiday outfits. But, like most humans, they’ll never understand what goes through a cat’s head.
Take, for example, the fact that Argo hates car rides. Absolutely despises them. Each bump in the road sends a tremor through him, making what little is left of his fur stand up on end. A particularly rough jolt sends him cowering to the back of his carrier, which doesn’t really have a back to begin with, due to its cramped space that seems more fit for a hamster.
He doesn’t make a sound, though. No one would hear him, so it’s not worth the effort. The woman called Mom or Sheila is busy driving, the boy named Asad has small white plugs in his ears, and the girl up front with Mom-Sheila, called Harmony, appears never to hear anything Argo says, no matter how loudly he mewls.
The screechy music playing on the radio isn’t helping the situation, either. It’s high and reedy, not fit for a cat’s ears at all.
Next to him, Asad shifts in his seat, staring out the window at the gloomy day. Argo decides to copy him and stares through the narrow slats in his carrier to watch the passing scenery, a blur of cars and trees and people.
He used to be closer with the two younger humans, but then they’d grown into what the neighborhood cats called “teenagers.” They warned Argo that a lot would happen during this time period, and that it would last several years, so he’d better prepare himself.
He hadn’t believed them at first, scoffing at their assumptions. “Harmony and Asad are different,” he’d told them through a series of contemptuous purrs. “Even if they grow up, the fact that they’re my humans will never change.”
“Sure,” scowled Sadie, an old tabby cat from crazy Mrs. Haiden’s house next door. “You keep telling yourself that.”
Turns out his friends were right. Argo has never felt so lonely in his life. When Harmony and Asad were younger, each day passed with lots of playtime and cuddles. Nowadays, Argo is lucky to get a quick pat or belly rub.
Sometimes, though, Harmony sneaks into the living room at night, when the humans are sleeping but Argo is awake, to hold him close to her chest. Silent sobs rack her thin frame, or a couple of tears roll down her cheeks and onto Argo’s fur. He’s not sure exactly when this began, but it’s got to be three or four years by now. Actually, now that he thinks about it, it started around the same time Harmony stopped hearing him.
Argo has never met a deaf cat or human before, so he doesn’t know the word, never mind the meaning of it. But he’s learned that hugs don’t need words to be comforting.
There used to be another member of the family, too, someone who gave Argo the minimum attention required to take care of a cat. He certainly never asked for a hug, which was good, because Argo doesn’t think he’d ever want to be held by that man. Argo barely remembers him now because he left so long ago, but there’s one day from a younger time that sticks in Argo’s mind, a day that involves all four humans.
Whenever the tall man began to raise his voice, I knew it was time to go. I scampered out of Mom-Sheila and the man’s bedroom, tail between my legs. Harmony was waiting just outside, her hand raised to knock on the partially-open door. I didn’t know why they always left it cracked open since they got into fights so often. Maybe someone left it open for me to escape.
Harmony looked at me in confusion, her oversized nightshirt hanging past her knees. I slunk past her, rubbing my nose against her ankle, before retreating into her room for safety.
A few seconds later, she rushed in, closed the door, and slid down to the floor, her hands coming up to her face but not touching her skin, as though she was afraid of the feeling.
Her shoulders began to shake. I peeked out from under her bed, the faded blue coverlet tickling my fur as I padded over to her. She held me close, her cheeks wet on my fur.
A moment later, Asad knocked on the door. “Harmony? It’s me,” he whispered.
“Go away,” she said, her words coming out warbled and scratchy.
“Harmony, let me in.”
“I said, go away.”
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “Nee, move out of the way so I can come in.”
Slowly, she stood up, letting me hop out of her lap. Asad twisted the knob and opened the door, wincing at the creak it made.
Harmony had already retreated to her bed and buried herself under the covers. A pillow lay over her face, blocking everything out.
Gently, Asad sat on the edge of the bed. He saw me still sitting by the door where Harmony had left me and made a soft clicking noise with his tongue, beckoning me onto the bed.
“Harmony,” he murmured, gently shaking the covers. “Come on.”
“Okay,” came the muffled response, but she didn’t move.
Asad pulled the pillow off her face. “Come on, Nee.”
“I don’t want to see anything anymore!” she whimpered, pulling the pillow back down.
“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “Look, Argo is here. He wants to see you.”
I nuzzled my head into the covers to prove his point, and he gave me an appreciative scratch between my ears.
“No one wants to see me when I’m crying.”
“Harmony.” Asad hesitated, his responsibility as an older brother weighing on his expression, even though he wasn’t even ten years old yet.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered eventually.
At last, Harmony flung the pillow away from her. Her cheeks were wet with tears. “No, it won’t. Dad hit Mom.”
Asad winced. “I know.”
“Did you see it, too?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I’m older, and I know more.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because they’re adults, and we’re just kids.”
“How do we stop it?”
“We can’t.”
“What if it doesn’t ever stop?”
She looked up at him, her wide brown eyes still shining with tears. Asad took a breath.
“We make a wish that it will stop.”
Harmony sat up and tugged open the blinds. “Can we make a wish right now?”
Asad nodded. Together, we looked up at the night sky and found the brightest star. Harmony clasped her hands together tightly and closed her eyes, lips moving in a soundless prayer. Asad watched her, to make sure she was okay, and I watched both of them, to make sure they were both okay.
When the tires screech and the car jolts, Argo lurches forward against the metal bars of his carrier at an angle that even the strongest cat couldn’t survive. In the second before everything fades, Argo makes one last wish: that his owners—his family—will be okay.
Resources
“Anxiety Disorders.” Mayo Clinic, https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/anxiety/symptoms-causes/syc-20350961.
“Deafness – A Range of Causes.” Better Health Channel, https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/deafness-a-range-of- causes#causes-of-hearing-loss.
“Hearing Loss.” Mayo Clinic, https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/hearing- loss/symptoms-causes/syc-20373072.
Reese, Diana. “Do I Need to Go to a Hospital for My Panic Attack?” WebMD, 13 Jun. 2021, https://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/hospital-for-panic-attack.
Excerpt taken from The Selection by Kiera Cass, HarperTeen, 2012, p. 1.
Excerpt taken from “The Hollow Men” by T.S. Eliot, 1925.
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