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There's still no trace of my Doongie. My heart beats faster with each thing my brain tells me, squeezing my lungs, sucking the air out of them.
It stresses me out.
Why would he run away? I mean, he's living better than both me and Jisung. So why did he?
It's not like the streets are better. When sometimes it rains, no food, no cuddles, no warmth, all alone.
My mum once said, 'Min, Soonie went to find a family. That's why he left.'
Yes, my first cat ran away not onetime, but three times.
First, when he was really little— I had accidentally left the window open and he jumped out. I found him two streets down.
Then, when I was ten. He was already pretty old; old enough to mate and have his own kittens. At least that's what she told me.
Finally, and when he left for real, after mother died. I think it was around then, at least.
Because of Myungho, of course. He made everyone's life hell.
Why the heck did he try to hurt Soonie?
My cat was the nicest, cutest, purest soul alive. He barely bit or scratched. He'd cuddle me to sleep and comfort me when I'd be sad.
When I found out about my mothers cancer, (which happened when I was trying to find my phone Myungho confiscated; I went through their drawers), I was devastated.
Sadly for us all, I was too young for such tragedy, yet old enough to understand the gravity of it. I'm preparing to work in the medical field, after all. I guess.
And I cried, and Soonie did backflips, and I wiped my own tears, and he tried to lift up my mood, and sometimes it worked.
That cat— Lee Soonie, my sweet Sun— was my only best friend.
The only friend I ever had. The only one who didn't judge me. Or maybe he didn't because he didn't have vocal chords to.
There's a loud noise coming from upstairs, like a door shutting or something.
It startles me. The train carrying my thoughts crashes.
After messily taking off my shoes in a rush, like my mother always scolded me to do, I throw the bag on the ground and run upstairs to see what the fuss is about.
It's shocking to find nothing there. Or rather no one.
"Jisung?" I whisper, moving the covers away. It reveals nothingness.
Sighing, I lean my head back and stare at the sky. The window on the low ceiling has a small crack in it. My mind already focuses on it.
I examine it, wondering how it broke. It's not that big, it's not something to be cautious of yet. Thank God.
