Miss Kitty

Today I found a kitty. She’s so adorable. She has black fur and green eyes. She walked across the path in front of me.

“Hello, kitty!” I said, and I scooped her into my arms. She meowed and clawed my arm, but I was strong! I didn’t let go.

I brought Miss Kitty home with me. She yowled the whole time, but I clamped a hand over her mouth and she made no noise. I think she might have bit my hand though. There was blood coming from a scratch on my arm, and blood coming from the scrape on my hand. Stupid cat. Oh no, I said a no-no word. Mama says I’m not supposed to say those. But Mama can’t hear my thoughts. Ha, ha. I laugh aloud.

“Ha ha ha!” I sneak Miss Kitty up to my room, and sit her in my closet. Then I shut the door. She can’t get out, now.

I can hear her clawing at the wood. It’s no use. The wood’s too thick. Even I can’t claw through it, and I’m strong. That’s what Mama says. That I’m strong. I run downstairs.

“Hon, What did you do to your arm?”

“I fell,” I lied. Mama says I shouldn’t lie. But she’s allergic to cats. She won’t let me keep Miss Kitty if she knows.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She kissed my scratches, wiped them off, then puts a bandaid on the worst of them. I love my mommy, even when she hits me. Even when she comes home and staggers around the house screaming bad words. She’s never said stupid, though. Once I repeated a word she said at school and the teacher yelled at me.

Fuck. That word. I was angry! I’d gotten a bad grade on a test. That word is what Mama says when she’s angry. So I said it.

I walk upstairs to Miss Kitty. I get into the closet with my doll clothes. Kitty hisses. I hiss back.

“I’m your mama. You have to act like a proper kitty.” She still glared at me. I pulled out a frilly pink dress. It would look pretty on Miss Kitty. Hey, that rhymes! I’m learning about rhymes in school. Miss Kitty claws at me, so I pin her arms down so she doesn’t rip my pretty dress for her. I shove the dress on her.

“See, Miss Kitty? Isn’t that nice?” She yowls. It doesn’t sound like she likes it. I frown. “You should appreciate what your mama gets for you.” She doesn’t make a sound. I get some glue and glue a pink bow to her head. I’m still pinning her down. I get some heavy boxes and put them over her paws. She hisses. I stick my tongue out at her.

“Be a good little kitty witty!” I say, and I poke her head. Her fur is soft.

“Dinner, Annabelle!” I close the closet door and head downstairs.

“What is it?”

“Mac-n-cheese! Your favorite!” I smile.

“Yay!” Maybe I could sneak some up to Miss Kitty. She probably likes mac-n-cheese, too.

I eat a whole plate then shove a handful in my pocket. I dance upstairs.

“Miss Kitty?” I whisper. “I have dinner!” No response. I open the closet door and lift the heavy boxes off of her feet. She springs up, hisses at me, then licks her feet. I lick mine too, and laugh. I take out the handful of mac-n-cheese and Miss Kitty sniffs it, then looks away.

“You have to eat your food,” I say grumpily. I grab her and force her mouth open and shove the food in. That’s how my mom fed me when I didn’t want to eat. She makes a choking sound but eventually the food goes down. Her green eyes close. She’s sleepy. I’m sleepy too. I yawn and shut the closet door.

The dark is full of spooky shadows, and clawing sounds from the closet. Has the monster gotten Miss Kitty? I have to check. I turn on the light and look in at Miss Kitty. She’s asleep. Okay, good. The monster hasn’t gotten her. I turn off the light and climb back into bed. Finally, my eyes close.

Bright light shines into my eyes in the morning. I sit up and walk into Miss Kitty’s room. There are little brown clumps and a yellow stain. I pick up the brown clumps.

“Bad kitty!” I say. “Poopie goes in the toilet!” I throw the poop in the potty and then I flush it.

Whoosh! It makes the funnest sounds. I go back to my room and slap kitty. She’s been very bad.

“Bad girl!” She hisses and tries to bite my hand. I slap her again. That’s what Mama does to me when I’m bad. I have to teach Miss Kitty a lesson.

“Breakfast!” Calls my mother. I can tell by her voice that her alerts? Alleged? Allergies? Yes, allergies. Her allergies are bad again. I wonder if Miss Kitty has allergies. Probably not. She’s a cat.

I bounce down the steps. It makes my butt hurt, but it’s fun. Hee hee, I said the b-word.

Today is Sun-day, but I don’t see any sun. Maybe it’s hiding.

I eat my waffle. Mama always makes waffles on Sun-day.

Miss Kitty is up in my room. I grab her and put her on my lap, but she hisses and squirms, so I grab her neck. I saw Mama do this to Daddy once so that he would stop moving. But they took him away in a black bag. I won’t let them take Kitty. Kitty is twitching all over the place, so I squeeze harder.

“Stop moving, Miss Kitty. It’s not good for you.” She doesn’t listen, so I squeeze harder. Eventually, she is still. I move her around so she is sitting in my lap, and then I pet her.

“Yay, good kitty witty!” I exclaim.

She’s so well behaved now.

Oh no, someone’s coming. But Miss Kitty is so comfy on my lap that I don’t want to move her.

Her dull green eyes no longer blink.

Mama comes in,

And screams.