The adventure in the cat realm

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

- Where am I, I mutter. It looks like a city, but I don't recognize it. A man strides past me, his tail swishing as he walks.

- Wait, what. A tail. I must be dreaming, I say in my head. As I take in my surroundings, I realize that everyone around me has cat ears and a tail. Suddenly, I'm reminded of the old town legend my mom told me about when I was little. It spoke of a secret realm of cats, magical beings who can move between their world and ours at will. A place where, when you've nearly lost all hope, you can go and have your wishes granted. All you have to do is find the right cat, and it will lead you there.

- If only a place like that were real, I say in my head.

- Don't you remember, Kira, Mom asks.

- Mom, I ask. Just as I turn to look at her, I'm startled out of my dream by a knock on the door.

I rub my eyes, stretching to release the stiffness that comes from falling asleep in a hospital chair. My mom lies in the bed next to me, her face peaceful as she sleeps.

- Sorry to disturb you. Should I come back another time, a doctor asks. I stand up, rubbing the last bit of sleepiness out of my eyes.

- No, no, it's fine. I just dozed off for a minute there, I say. The doctor comes in, examining the screens of the various machines hooked up to my mom.

- Is there any new information, I ask. The doctor, she shakes her head, picking up my mom's chart from the end of the bed.

- Unfortunately, no. Your mom's latest tests didn't help much to clarify what's causing her illness. At the moment, all we're able to do is keep her stable and comfortable. I'm sorry I don't have better news, the doctor says.

- It's been weeks of tests and we still don't know anything, I say in my head.

- I'm sure you're doing the best you can. Thank you. I just wish we knew something. Some way to help her get better, I say. I put my hand over my mom's, singing.

- It just came on so suddenly, I say.

- I've never seen a case like this before, to be honest with you. Even in cases we can't be sure of a diagnosis, there's usually some clue, the doctor says. With a sigh, she hangs my mom's chart back at the end of the bed.

- I know this is quite a lot for someone your age to handle, the doctor says. I shake my head.

- No, I'm used to handling things on my own, I say.

- Ever since dad left, I haven't had much of a choice, I say in my head.

- Well, we have some counselors on our staff who would be happy to help if you ever need it, the doctor says. The doctor takes a paper from her coat pocket and hands it to me. " Patient and family services". I fold it up, slipping it into my bag.

- Thank you. I'll take a look at it, I say. She nods, putting her hand on my shoulder for a moment.

Then she excuses herself, leaving me alone with my mom again. The sunlight outside has begun to fade, and I know visiting hours will be over soon. I brush my mom's hair, straighten the bedsheets, and dim the light in the room.

- I promise we're going to find a way to help you, mom, I say in my head.

On the way home, I stop by the supermarket to buy some food for our family cat, Tama. He's a sweet orange tabby, friendly and curious, and my best friend after my dad left and mom got sick.