Don't Forget Me

Chapter Four

The cat had sleek, silvery fur and wide, olive green eyes. Its ashen grey fur could almost blend in with any alleyway it walked into. She could live days without anyone noticing her. Who knows, the cat could be watching you now, but you just don't notice.

It was almost like looking into a mirror at myself as a cat. Actually, we were having a stare-down, eight o' clock at night: at the park. Ice was gradually melting around us, spring was coming soon.

It's been about a month since my mom joined the rest of my family. My aunt has been blaming herself for her death. She thinks that no one notices, but she has been locking herself in her room and beating herself up, showing the sad, pathetic state she's in now.

Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she committed suicide. I'm starting to toy more with these phrases relating to death, as I no longer care anymore, my senses are too dull, and I feel as if color has been sucked out of my life, leaving me with black, white, and about fifty shades of grey.

Leaving me with black, white, grey, and this cat. My nameless spirit animal. I'm not even sure how we found each other, now that I think about it.

Suddenly, a voice, one that I've heard so many times, called out from a few feet away.

"Here, kitty kitty. Granny will get mad at us if you don't come home..." Dylan said.

Of course it's Dylan. He always seems to be around when I least expect it.

"Come here, cat!"

There's no way he can spot the two of us using nothing but starlight. Even if he was an excellent detective that can find thoroughly hidden evidence and deeply buried clues, studies show that I most likely don't even exist.

The grey cat bounces onto the bench that I'm sitting on and curls on top of my lap. I'm officially bound here, to the seat, thanks to a certain silver feline.

"Here you are, silly Tara." Dylan's voice seems to be right behind me.

I immediately tense and my cheeks are tinged pink.

"Oh, I hope Tara hasn't caused you any trouble, miss." He speaks, politely to someone out in the distance.

I can't seem to tell who he's talking to, as she doesn't respond back. I squirm uncomfortably. Anyone could mistake my face for a walking blob of lava, or possibly a hot tomato. Ugh!

I can't seem to stop freaking out over a voice that's behind me! What's going on?! I try to stare at the sleeping cat in my lap, hoping to distract myself, but it's obviously no use.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

Who is he talking to?!

After a few minutes, a finger reaches out to tap my shoulder, and somehow, I freeze up even more than I already have. My head swivels around to face him, face to face.

"Ah, there you go, miss." Dylan seems to be...smiling. Is it directed at me?

"Excuse me for the awkward introduction, but what's your name?" he asks, sheepishly.

"A-Ashlynn..." I respond.

If this is a dream, I realize how much more brave I am in my dreams than in reality.

"That's such a pretty name! I won't forget it. Hey, thanks for taking care of Tartar Sauce, my cat." he said.

I thought the cat's name was Tara...? Unless, maybe, it's a nickname.

Well, anyways, Tartar Sauce is a stupid name, something that a five year old can come up with. I dare you to say it out loud and tell it to my face, "Tartar Sauce is not a stupid name."

Something here doesn't feel right. Everything seems realistic, but there's something missing. Tara, the grey bundle of fur, starts to fade out. So does Dylan.

I start calling out to them, desperate, lonely, and afraid.

Good news, I was right. It truly was a dream.
Bad news, it truly...was a dream.