The Very Odd, Very Persuasive, Very Talkative Black Cat

 “You are grounded!” Those words echoed in Charlotte’s head as her mother guided Charlotte, who was holding the cat, into her room, slamming the door behind her. Grounded. Charlotte had never been grounded before. Wilbur, the cat, jumped out of Charlotte’s arms and onto her bed, sitting down, waiting expectantly. His black fur shimmered under the single light bulb on the ceiling, his yellow eyes seeming to glow. 

 “I can’t believe you got me grounded.” She pointed accusingly at Wilbur, who just tilted his head to one side.

 Hey, kid, I merely suggested the idea. You were the one who carried out the idea. I don’t have hands. 

 “Well, it’s still all your fault.” Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest with a humph.

 So, what’s our escape plan?

 “Our what?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

 Oh my god, we’re going to die here. Our escape plan. How are we gonna get out?

 “Get out? Why would we want to get out? We’re grounded.” Charlotte quirked an eyebrow up, questioningly. Wilbur rolled his eyes. Well, as much as a cat can roll his eyes.

 So? Mom makes rules. We break them. Mom tells us to brush our teeth. We don’t. Mom says no ice cream. We get some anyways. Mom puts us in our room…we escape. It’s the way of the world.

 “But won’t that get us in more trouble?”

 Not if we don’t get caught.

 “So how do we not get caught?” Charlotte plopped down at her desk chair and Wilbur hopped onto her lap, tilting his head toward hers.

 By doing things my way. We climb out the window.

 “CLIMB OUT THE—”

 SHH!!! Mom is going to hear you!

“Climb out the window? We are like ten stories up. And what are we gonna do when we get out? We live in New York City. We could get kidnapped!” 

Stop freaking out. If you listen to me, we will be fine. Plus, there’s a fire escape for a reason.

“I’m pretty sure the fire escape is to escape a fire.”

That’s only one of the reasons. Now pack a bag.

---

Half an hour later, Charlotte and Wilbur landed with a thud on the concrete sidewalk. The street was busy with people walking with their heads down, staring at their phones, shops advertising the best pizza in New York City, and cars whizzing by, honking at nothing. A dog trotted by and Wilbur hissed. Charlotte bent down and scooped him up. 

“Where to now?”

Did you bring the money I told you to bring?

“Yup. I emptied my whole piggy bank.” People gave Charlotte weird looks as they passed, but she ignored them.

Good. First, we get a slice of pizza from across the street and a nice Coke to go with. And get me a small treat.

They walked to the corner and waited for the white walking man to appear on the sign across the street, letting them know when to cross. People piled up behind them, pushing and shoving, waiting to cross as well. Tall buildings loomed high and the sky was gray with clouds. The only color came from shop fronts, bright cars, and the occasional hot pink t-shirt.

Finally, the white walking man appeared and it was like a sea of people. They flooded in from both sides of the crosswalk and Charlotte had to dodge between legs, suitcases, and bikes.

New Yorkers can be so rude.

Finally, they reached the other side and ambled an actually good pizza place, called the Triangle Slice. A bright flashy sign in the window announced that they were open and couples sat at booths and tables, sharing pizzas and talking. Charlotte boldly pushed open the door, hearing the bell jingle as she did so, and marched up to the counter.

“One slice of cheese pizza and a coke please,” Charlotte declared when she reached the counter, Wilbur at her feet. The lady gave her a funny look but obliged when she was handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Oh, and can I buy one of those cat treats?” Charlotte pointed at a jar on her left.

---

Twenty minutes later, Charlotte and Wilbur were munching on food on a bench in a park. The grass was green and there was a grove of trees up ahead. There weren’t many people in the park and it was quiet besides the constant New York sounds.

Are you having fun?

“Yeah, but I feel kind of guilty.” Charlotte stared at the trees, chewing the last of her pizza slowly and finishing off her coke.

Guilty? Why? We’re having the best time.

“But mom told us to stay in our room and we didn’t listen. What if she gets worried?”

She won’t get worried. It’s not like she cares about us. If she did, we wouldn’t have been grounded.

“We were grounded because we broke the rules.”

Rules are meant to be broken. Didn’t we already have this conversation?

“Rules are meant to be followed, not broken. That’s why there are rules. Without rules, there is anarchy. From what I learned in school, anarchy is bad.”

Listen, kid, mom’s a tyrant. You should listen to me. I know better than mom. I’m way for fun than mom. And I will never ground you.

“That’s true.”

Plus, it’s not like you didn’t lock our bedroom door.

“Lock our bedroom door? I didn’t do that!” Charlotte shot up from the bench, letting the empty paper plate fall off her lap.

You didn’t lock the bedroom door? But I told you to!

“But if I locked the bedroom door, how would I get back into my room?”

By going through the window! There is a reason we went through the window! Come on, kid. We got to get home.

Wilbur leaped from the bench, racing in the direction of the apartment. Charlotte followed after properly disposing of her paper plate and empty coke can in a recycling bin at the edge of the park. They raced out and passed the Triangle Slice. The apartment was within sight. So close.

Charlotte and Wilbur halted at the corner, waiting for the white walking man.

Come on! Why do these things take so long?

“Because cars need to drive, too.” Charlotte bent down and picked up Wilbur for comfort. It only helped a little.

Finally, the white walking man appeared and as Charlotte was about to walk forward, she was yanked back, pulled by her backpack, a hand clamped over her mouth. Wilbur hissed and tried to attack the hand but another one grabbed Wilbur and threw him on the ground.

“Damn cat!” the captor swore. Wilbur hissed and yowled in response but it was no use. Charlotte was still being dragged away.

Don’t worry, kid. Everything will be alright.

Charlotte knew he was lying and fear suffocated her. The sun was going down and not a lot of people were out. She kicked and squirmed, trying to yell. But the grip on her tightened. She saw she was being dragged to a black SUV and Wilbur scratched and clawed at her captor’s leg.

I’m coming, kid. Bite him or something.

“Devil cat! Go the hell away!” Charlotte’s captor kicked Wilbur in the side and he went flying the ground twenty feet away. Twenty feet closer to home. Before she could think, Charlotte wiggled her mouth open beneath the hand and bit hard.

“Dammit!” Her captor’s grip loosened just enough for her to squirm away, leaving her backpack behind. She ran forward and scooped up Wilbur, clutching him tightly as she ran to the apartment. The white walking man was not on the sign; instead an angry red hand. Charlotte didn’t care; she needed to get to safety. Dodging the onslaught of cars, which slammed on their breaks, she dashed across the street, into the building and up 10 flights of stairs.

After reaching the correct floor, she flew into the corridor and down the hall until she came to a halt in front of apartment 1022, where she banged on the door.

Slowly, it opened up and revealed her mother, a look of horror spreading across her face. She looked from Charlotte and Wilbur to Charlotte’s room and back to Charlotte and Wilbur. “What the—”

Charlotte launched herself forward and hugged her mother around the abdomen, squeezing her with one arm and holding Wilbur in the other. Hot tears streamed down her face.

“I’m so sorry!”