Moon Cat (unfinished)
written by Ash Wolfsone
Every night, at exactly 11.59 pm, she - it - would appear. It would be gone by midnight. But I never expected it to share secrets. . . If everything goes to plan, I will update this every few days (if I have extra time, maybe daily!) All reviews are invited :P
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
7
Reads
694
Four
Chapter 6
Any positive opinion about the Birmans had vanished by nine the next morning.
As I got out of bed, having woke up happily and as if nothing happened last night, Pearl, coming from out of nowhere, leapt onto my pillow. I was unnerved until she started ripping holes in the case and scratching up the memory foam inside.
"Pearl!" I hissed. "Get away from that!"
The cat did, taking half the pillowcase with her, hooked on her claws. I groaned as she jumped up onto the shelf next to Grandma's bed and padded along. She weaved skillfully around the objects on it, including books, my glasses and some of Grandma's framed photos that were left there, collecting dust. I could almost read her mischievous eyes, glinting teasingly at me: "I'm going to push this one over! Look, watch me- oh, okay then. You're no fun, are you, human? How about this one? Oh, I'm joking - or am I?"
Thankfully, Pearl reached the end of shelf without kicking anything. But, at the last minute, she turned around to the last item: an old and faded baby picture of the late Fishi. At that moment, her face warped from naughty to filled with pure hatred. She hissed maliciously at the image, and sent it flying.
"PEARL!" I scolded loudly. I grabbed her, swiftly but gently, and put her outside of my room, slamming the door.
When I retrieved the photo frame, I noticed in dismay that the glass was cracked. The image itself wasn't damaged; it still looked as if it was sitting proudly on the shelf. Fishi smiled cutely out of it, a picture of innocence. To my suprise, it saddened me that Fishi had died so willingly. Just laid down and stopped breathing, like a car switching off after a long journey.
I immediately went out of the house to buy a new frame, as well as some other items I needed. This included some form of cat treat to make Pearl stop wrecking my bedroom. Crazy as it sounds, I took her with me, in her posh little cage. She didn't seem too excited about it, but her joy was the last thing on my mind at that moment in time. I was more worried about keeping her out of mischief and in my sights.
When we got back home, I was shocked. I never knew one cat could do so much damage!
I furiously took in the sight of Samphire, who had peed up every wall and every couch in the house. Pearl looked smug and instantly joined in by scratching up the wallpaper.
"No!" I yelped exasperatedly. "No, cats! Bad cats!!!"
They didn't care, they just continued to rip up and piddle on the walls. It stank of cat urine. I was livid.
"No, no, no!" I grabbed each one under my arm, threw them in the garden, and locked them out. There were meows of protest and scratching on the door, but I didn't care. I examined every room, assessing the damage and instantly calling Mum.
"Hello?" came her voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey, mum, just me," I began, sighing. "So, guess what fun the cats and I got up to today?"
There was silence. I pictured Mum's confused look. "Go on," she replied slowly.
I explained everything, from Pearl ripping my pillow to Samphire peeing everywhere. She gasped at everything I said, and promised to come round straight away.
When Mum arrived, she was as shocked as I was. "We'll have to take these in," she announced instantly.
"What about Aiden?" I questioned, and Mum nodded. Aiden was allergic to most types of pet hair.
"Ah, yes. Well, there's nothing else to it. You'll have to put them up for adoption, renovate, or deal with it."
As I got out of bed, having woke up happily and as if nothing happened last night, Pearl, coming from out of nowhere, leapt onto my pillow. I was unnerved until she started ripping holes in the case and scratching up the memory foam inside.
"Pearl!" I hissed. "Get away from that!"
The cat did, taking half the pillowcase with her, hooked on her claws. I groaned as she jumped up onto the shelf next to Grandma's bed and padded along. She weaved skillfully around the objects on it, including books, my glasses and some of Grandma's framed photos that were left there, collecting dust. I could almost read her mischievous eyes, glinting teasingly at me: "I'm going to push this one over! Look, watch me- oh, okay then. You're no fun, are you, human? How about this one? Oh, I'm joking - or am I?"
Thankfully, Pearl reached the end of shelf without kicking anything. But, at the last minute, she turned around to the last item: an old and faded baby picture of the late Fishi. At that moment, her face warped from naughty to filled with pure hatred. She hissed maliciously at the image, and sent it flying.
"PEARL!" I scolded loudly. I grabbed her, swiftly but gently, and put her outside of my room, slamming the door.
When I retrieved the photo frame, I noticed in dismay that the glass was cracked. The image itself wasn't damaged; it still looked as if it was sitting proudly on the shelf. Fishi smiled cutely out of it, a picture of innocence. To my suprise, it saddened me that Fishi had died so willingly. Just laid down and stopped breathing, like a car switching off after a long journey.
I immediately went out of the house to buy a new frame, as well as some other items I needed. This included some form of cat treat to make Pearl stop wrecking my bedroom. Crazy as it sounds, I took her with me, in her posh little cage. She didn't seem too excited about it, but her joy was the last thing on my mind at that moment in time. I was more worried about keeping her out of mischief and in my sights.
When we got back home, I was shocked. I never knew one cat could do so much damage!
I furiously took in the sight of Samphire, who had peed up every wall and every couch in the house. Pearl looked smug and instantly joined in by scratching up the wallpaper.
"No!" I yelped exasperatedly. "No, cats! Bad cats!!!"
They didn't care, they just continued to rip up and piddle on the walls. It stank of cat urine. I was livid.
"No, no, no!" I grabbed each one under my arm, threw them in the garden, and locked them out. There were meows of protest and scratching on the door, but I didn't care. I examined every room, assessing the damage and instantly calling Mum.
"Hello?" came her voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey, mum, just me," I began, sighing. "So, guess what fun the cats and I got up to today?"
There was silence. I pictured Mum's confused look. "Go on," she replied slowly.
I explained everything, from Pearl ripping my pillow to Samphire peeing everywhere. She gasped at everything I said, and promised to come round straight away.
When Mum arrived, she was as shocked as I was. "We'll have to take these in," she announced instantly.
"What about Aiden?" I questioned, and Mum nodded. Aiden was allergic to most types of pet hair.
"Ah, yes. Well, there's nothing else to it. You'll have to put them up for adoption, renovate, or deal with it."
