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  • The Pink Tabby Cat

    It was four in the morning. The inconvenient rays of burning sunlight began to seep through my sheer, magenta curtains. My eyelids glued, fast; my head, spinning; my stomach, churning profusely. I knew she had to be there. She wouldn’t go away.

    Maybe if I pretended not to see her; perching, mightily in the far corner of my room – she’d finally get bored. I scalded my eyes with artificial light, glaring intently at Twitter; distracting myself with amusing videos and witty quips from unknowing individuals. I ventured to fill my face with food, humouring my auditory senses with the rustling of sweet wrappers, crisp packets and bottle openers. I lit vanilla-scented candles in an attempt to arouse my nasal passages, climaxed under the covers to achieve nirvanal relaxation, fought – tooth and nail to keep… my… eyes… from… sliding… towar…ds…

    There she remained. Purring, softly; continuously.

    I lay back in my hardened mattress. The crick in my neck began to spread to my spine; jostling, awkwardly as I tossed and turned for a final crumb of comfort. I’d decided to focus, directly on the feelings of anguish, those which the fuchsia pink Tabby Cat so joyously revelled in. My eyeballs felt heavy in their sockets; as if they needed to be removed for polishing. Pints of sweat sat on my brow like cream on a sticky toffee pudding; tacky, insulated. My large intestine was acidic with over-digestion. She cried to clock out. She needed her rest too.

    I looked over at the Tabby Cat, and she looked back at me.

    “Must you remain here, taunting me all night?”, I wailed in desperation.

    Tabby sighed, lamented; and rested her bushy chin on her forepaw.

    I turned over, holding just a smidge of annoyance in my mind, while the dawn chorus languidly came to a crescendo. Even the birds were mocking me.

    I tried to cleanse my soul of the rose-tinted Tabby by flushing the evil out through my lungs. I counted; one, two, three, four… one, two, three, four. One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four.

    The cat slowly began to slink up to the side of my bedstead, pressing her furry face against my ear. The fibres began to brush, lightly, inside my ear canal. My skin started to quiver.

    “You’ve got a bad heart”, she growled – in hushed tones. My cricked neck snapped into place, until I was facing herdirectly.

    “What is the meaning of this?”, I howled; as the bitter tears commenced to roll down my cheeks. “Must you continue to taunt me like this?!”

    Tabby smiled, a slinky sort-of smile; “you’ve got a bad heart”.

    “I’m tired of the teasing and taunting; the tearing of my self-esteem. The clawing, the pawing, the dulling of the gleam in the eye of the girl who was tasked with the responsibility of you. Well, I won’t accept it! Do you hear me, Cat? I hate it! I denounce it! I rue the day I listened to you, and made you what you are. I strip you of your power… I created you; I can end your existence right now… I… please. Just… leave me alone, won’t you?”

    The Pink Tabby Cat widened her underworldly, black eyes.

    “You’ve got a bad heart”.

    Before scuttling back into that Godforsaken corner.

    My eyes carefully drifted towards the ceiling, feeling heavier by the second. Those five words echoed in my mind, as my breath started to become shallower; and my face started to droop against my stiff pillow.

    “You’ve got a bad heart… you’ve got a bad heart… you’vegotab adhe a r t… yo’egtabahert… y…”

    “Don’t fall asleep!”, a voice boomed.

    My once-heavy eyes, now light as a feather; split open like the buckle of a mousetrap.

    “I… give… up!”, I screamed. Why must you slowly kill me over-and-over with this infernal noise? Why must you follow me when I try to leave you? Why must you stay with me when I’m amongst others? Why did you appear? I didn’t request you! At my behest! I command you to leave me in peace! If this is what your bad-heart vision foresaw; I commend you on it’s accuracy. Now go!”.

    I fixed my hazel eyes towards the corner of the room, intently.

    She didn’t say a word.

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    Hannah Van-de-Peer
    Hannah Van-de-Peer

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    2 Comments

    1. June 18, 2019 / 7:12 pm

      Hannah I loved reading this, I love your creative style and the fact that there’s so much detail left to the imagination. I love that you’re being creative and expressing yourself in fiction too. I can’t wait to see more from you!
      Alex x
      http://allthingsalexx.wordpress.com/

      • Hannah Van-de-Peer
        Author
        June 18, 2019 / 8:26 pm

        Thanks Alex! Xx

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