August 20, 2005
Sorrow, Pain, Grief, and Felix
The fearful suspicions I held deep within me were confirmed tonight. Earlier when we got home from the Pow Wow the annoying kids from across the street came running over and told us they found a kitten dead in their yard... and it was striped.
You see, a while ago these stray cats decided to make underneath our house into their apartment and had kittens. You can't touch any of them, but one of them got brave and would come up to me if I had food. Eventually he started coming in and out of the house and would follow me around. He was striped and my brother named him Felix.
I didn't think anything of it when they told us. There were after all three striped kittens and I refused to go look at the dead one. I'd know soon enough which one it was. Before I went in the house I spotted one. It wasn't Felix, but I still had a 50% chance.
Then I went outside tonight and the other one was there. It wasn't Felix. Felix was the one sitting in their trashcan and rotting.
So I ran. I pulled up my hair, put on my shoes and ran to the end of the street where the trees weren't blocking the full moon. I would've ran farther because when it's on my own accord I don't mind running, especially at night when it's only me and the stars, but I'm prone to paranoia so only went a little ways around the corner.
I was mad, praying, wishing that it had been one of the others. It was a cold-hearted wish, but out of all the kittens, the one that I had formed an attachment to was the one to be killed. And it hurts.
I remember how just last night I decided to go for a walk and for some reason all the kittens decided to follow me, but Felix was the one under my heels. And yesterday he was in the house, crawling up my chair and all over the keyboard. I found it annoying, so put him outside.
I should've kept him inside. Then he would still be here. But I was on the computer and couldn't be bothered by him and now he's gone. He's gone and it's at least part my fault. I was selfish. And even as I was standing in the middle of the street crying tonight, I was wondering how I could write about it in here without sounding crude and I hate myself for it.
If he had been there, he would be purring at my ankle and I would've picked him up and he would try to climb onto my shoulder. But I was alone, with no one to run to, no one to talk to, no one to care, and no one to sooth me, even if everyone was home. There was nothing except pain, grief, and sorrow.
Why do we even have to feel this way? It would be so much easier if we didn't care. Why do we even get pets? I'm going out live my cat Oreo by many years, which only means I'll go through this pain again. I don't want it.
I don't want to feel anything. I just want Felix back. Maybe this is why we're mortal. If we could live forever, I think eventually heartache would kill us.
Maybe I'll still feel this way tomorrow. Then I would be too preoccupied with my pain to feel fear for a roller coaster.
"Sorrow may come and go, but it's easily triggered back to life"
scullerymaid at 09:29 p.m.