The Black Cat
My cold heart is a place were true love, can not bloom.
The late summer-early autumn air crisply rose into the large kitchen. The serenity of what could have been a pleasant morning was broken by the waking of the occupants of a certain boarding house on the edge of the forest. It would be wisely stated that the atmosphere of the house in question had been filled with tension and apprehension since the arrival of the housemates only a week before. A small black cat dashed across the well-tended lawn startled at the sounds of pots and pans loudly banging about. The sounds were clearly audible by the large open window that overlooked the front lawn.
Inside the house lived but two people; extremely small amount compared to the other houses. But this did not bother the cat as he preformed his daily ritual, or newly formed daily ritual.
The cat knew that if he waited long enough pleasant food would come poring out of the window; as it did everyday following the rather scary crashes, yells, and excitement in the kitchen.
Crawling up the tree next to the window, the cat watched the people who occupied the house, with vague interest, as would any animal wondering where just its meal was coming from.
The cat’s eyes peered into the house watching as a large man and woman fought. From where the cat was sitting he was able to see the back of the woman who was dressed in dark purple and the man who always faced the window; his dark brown hair and bright red eyes unsettled the cat immensely.
The fight picked up as it did everyday, with the woman cooking and banging around angrily. She always served for two, although the man never stayed and ate what she would prepare.
The cat was unable to understand why though; the woman was an amazing cook, but perhaps the food she made he did not like. Either way the man would leave after another fight and act as though in a hurry, driving away in his big metal box thing; the cat had once heard was called a car.
But today the cat could since something was even more wrong than usual, and found himself unable but to listen as the woman began to yell, anger filling her voice as she spoke harsh words that made the man flinch.
“Fredrick you are 1,510 years old, you need to grow up and get a job!” The woman yelled waving a spatula in the man’s face. The cat could not help but notice as the man, whom the cat assumed was Fredrick, jump at her comment.
“I have a job Monique, a well paying job from the look of your jewelry. You need to stop being so fickle. I am not having an affair with Natasha; I have never lead you on. I remember our anniversaries; I buy you flowers, clothes, and jewels. I give you everything you ask for. Why can’t you respect what I do for a living? I have enough pressure from work and do not need this from you!” The man replied giving the woman a dirty look. A look the cat had noticed would happen everyday.
“I hate her, this is such a good thing! We are so good together, you and I, we make a whole; why can’t you see that she is tearing us apart?” The woman cried out deeply, from the place that the cat was sitting he could tell that she was upset, but no tears were actually flowing from the woman’s eyes. The cat knew that when people were upset that water fell from their eyes; not the good tasting water, but this icky salt filled water.
Humans never made anything that tasted good, except food. The cat pondered if the woman was teasing the man, like the stray cat down the block had done to him.
“Natasha is my boss. She is like my mother; she likes you Monique, and considering the circumstances you should feel honored she tolerates you at all. I have a responsibility to the Vampiric Court; I cannot just run away from it. Everyone is counting on me, why can’t you understand that? Why is my loyalty to my kin so upsetting to you?” Fredrick asked taking the spatula out of Monique’s hands, and placing it in the sink. The cat could not help my take in the smells of the kitchen, which was quickly filling up, with a tantalizing aroma.
“Honored? Honored she locks you away from me, she’s what is tearing us apart; why do you run to her when she calls you? I want you to stay with me! I want you to be with me not her! I am your fiancé I am the one you proposed to! So why are you still following her around Fredrick, why are you still strung up upon every little word that home-wrecker says?” Monique asked pushing hard on Fredrick’s chest.
“Monique, you must stop kidding yourself about this, I am only doing what is expected of me, I am second in command, I have responsibilities that you obviously do not understand. I have to take care of my people, Natasha is one of my people, and she created me! She breathed air into my life and saved me from the hell I was experiencing; she is my queen and will be respected as such. The only thing that is tearing us apart is you, and your jealousy!” Fredrick growled backing away from Monique and towards the door.
“Wait! Fredrick please don’t leave! Don’t go to her, come to me, I love you, you know I love you!” Monique wailed out reaching for Fredrick.
“Monique, at this point I do not think either of us is really capable for love, we are possessive, aggressive, and willing to do anything to get what we want, you want to possess me not love me. Even if you have fooled yourself into believing that you love me you know that you do not, and couldn’t. People like us are not capable of love.” Fredrick said shaking his head sadly.
“I am sorry!” Monique cried out covering her eyes with her hands, as she pretended to cry. The cat noticed this with confusion, he had heard of a thing called acting before, but he had never seen it so well done.
“My cold heart is a place were true love, can not bloom. Monique it’s impossible for me to love you, as it is for you to truly love me. We both knew that when we started dating. Monique, it was perfect before you became so capricious," Fredrick added shaking his head as he slammed the door and walked out to his car.
The cat turned his head to the side, watching as the woman, Monique’s tears soon became real. The cat was surprised he had not expected her to actually cry; after all he assumed she was acting. But that was not the business of the cat’s and as he heard the sound of metal banging against the window, his mind quickly forgot about silly things like tears and carswalked forward to claim his prize, after all he was a very hungry cat.
Inside the house lived but two people; extremely small amount compared to the other houses. But this did not bother the cat as he preformed his daily ritual, or newly formed daily ritual.
The cat knew that if he waited long enough pleasant food would come poring out of the window; as it did everyday following the rather scary crashes, yells, and excitement in the kitchen.
Crawling up the tree next to the window, the cat watched the people who occupied the house, with vague interest, as would any animal wondering where just its meal was coming from.
The cat’s eyes peered into the house watching as a large man and woman fought. From where the cat was sitting he was able to see the back of the woman who was dressed in dark purple and the man who always faced the window; his dark brown hair and bright red eyes unsettled the cat immensely.
The fight picked up as it did everyday, with the woman cooking and banging around angrily. She always served for two, although the man never stayed and ate what she would prepare.
The cat was unable to understand why though; the woman was an amazing cook, but perhaps the food she made he did not like. Either way the man would leave after another fight and act as though in a hurry, driving away in his big metal box thing; the cat had once heard was called a car.
But today the cat could since something was even more wrong than usual, and found himself unable but to listen as the woman began to yell, anger filling her voice as she spoke harsh words that made the man flinch.
“Fredrick you are 1,510 years old, you need to grow up and get a job!” The woman yelled waving a spatula in the man’s face. The cat could not help but notice as the man, whom the cat assumed was Fredrick, jump at her comment.
“I have a job Monique, a well paying job from the look of your jewelry. You need to stop being so fickle. I am not having an affair with Natasha; I have never lead you on. I remember our anniversaries; I buy you flowers, clothes, and jewels. I give you everything you ask for. Why can’t you respect what I do for a living? I have enough pressure from work and do not need this from you!” The man replied giving the woman a dirty look. A look the cat had noticed would happen everyday.
“I hate her, this is such a good thing! We are so good together, you and I, we make a whole; why can’t you see that she is tearing us apart?” The woman cried out deeply, from the place that the cat was sitting he could tell that she was upset, but no tears were actually flowing from the woman’s eyes. The cat knew that when people were upset that water fell from their eyes; not the good tasting water, but this icky salt filled water.
Humans never made anything that tasted good, except food. The cat pondered if the woman was teasing the man, like the stray cat down the block had done to him.
“Natasha is my boss. She is like my mother; she likes you Monique, and considering the circumstances you should feel honored she tolerates you at all. I have a responsibility to the Vampiric Court; I cannot just run away from it. Everyone is counting on me, why can’t you understand that? Why is my loyalty to my kin so upsetting to you?” Fredrick asked taking the spatula out of Monique’s hands, and placing it in the sink. The cat could not help my take in the smells of the kitchen, which was quickly filling up, with a tantalizing aroma.
“Honored? Honored she locks you away from me, she’s what is tearing us apart; why do you run to her when she calls you? I want you to stay with me! I want you to be with me not her! I am your fiancé I am the one you proposed to! So why are you still following her around Fredrick, why are you still strung up upon every little word that home-wrecker says?” Monique asked pushing hard on Fredrick’s chest.
“Monique, you must stop kidding yourself about this, I am only doing what is expected of me, I am second in command, I have responsibilities that you obviously do not understand. I have to take care of my people, Natasha is one of my people, and she created me! She breathed air into my life and saved me from the hell I was experiencing; she is my queen and will be respected as such. The only thing that is tearing us apart is you, and your jealousy!” Fredrick growled backing away from Monique and towards the door.
“Wait! Fredrick please don’t leave! Don’t go to her, come to me, I love you, you know I love you!” Monique wailed out reaching for Fredrick.
“Monique, at this point I do not think either of us is really capable for love, we are possessive, aggressive, and willing to do anything to get what we want, you want to possess me not love me. Even if you have fooled yourself into believing that you love me you know that you do not, and couldn’t. People like us are not capable of love.” Fredrick said shaking his head sadly.
“I am sorry!” Monique cried out covering her eyes with her hands, as she pretended to cry. The cat noticed this with confusion, he had heard of a thing called acting before, but he had never seen it so well done.
“My cold heart is a place were true love, can not bloom. Monique it’s impossible for me to love you, as it is for you to truly love me. We both knew that when we started dating. Monique, it was perfect before you became so capricious," Fredrick added shaking his head as he slammed the door and walked out to his car.
The cat turned his head to the side, watching as the woman, Monique’s tears soon became real. The cat was surprised he had not expected her to actually cry; after all he assumed she was acting. But that was not the business of the cat’s and as he heard the sound of metal banging against the window, his mind quickly forgot about silly things like tears and carswalked forward to claim his prize, after all he was a very hungry cat.
♠ ♠ ♠
As my readers know I am not one for third person. Ever since I started writing in sixth grade I have loved first person writing, but I thought that I would try third person, and not just that, but animal third person... odd.. Yet I felt it was fun.