The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters (RH)

Part 15

---Sylvia---

They squirmed in their little cardboard box, a restless pile of fur and warmth. Two striped tabby kittens and a matted orange and white tom. Babies. Precious fur babies. I kneeled over, looking at them , listening to their squeaks of protest.

"We put them in a box cause they looked cold." Chris said. 

"Is that Ryan's shirt?" Ricky asks, he must not have been there for the kitten packaging. 

"They needed it more than I do, I guess." he said, "I bet my cat'll be jealous now."

"Where's the mom?" I asked. 

"She was hit on the road." Angelo said.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, someone drove right over her. I don't think you want to see-,"

"No, I don't." I sighed and thought deeper into this, "They don't have a mom, then."

"Won't their dad take care of them or something?"

"The dad doesn't have milk." I picked up one of the tabbies, who mewled and squirmed in my hands. I checked for teeth. I weighed kitty in my hands. "They look to be around three weeks, I could probably start weaning them now, though." 

"Weaning?" Josh asked.

"Weaning is when kittens stop drinking milk and begin eating real food." I said. "These kittens need someone to take care of them or they'll die."

"Oh well, they're just cats." 

"And you're just a useless sack of blood and skin tissue. So am I. We're all meaningless organisms who only exist because other useless organisms got horny and did the only thing that has kept our pitiful species in existence; reproduce."

"Damn, Via. Someone bit a bitter apple."

"I want to take care of these kittens."

"No, no way." Ian cut in.

"Yes, yes way."I gave him the 'you fucking owe me' look but he didn't budge. 

"No, this is unfair Via. Do you really think that we all want a bunch of loud cats in the bus keeping us all awake?" he griped. 

"Yeah, Via we have to think logically here. Where are they gonna go to the bathroom? What are they gonna eat? You said it yourself they're like three weeks old. I'll search online for an animal shelter nearby." Cody said. I felt my cheeks heating up from everyone staring at me. 

"...Fine." I muttered, "But it's getting late and I don't know how well they'll care for the kittens. I want to stop by a pet store and buy them some formula and give them baths. They can stay one night."

***

"I don't want them in my bus." Ian complained. 

"It's not just your bus, Ian. And I vote kittens." Meg said, standing next to me in the kingdom of confusing canned cat food. 

"Seriously, Meg? Why are you being so moody? Are you on your period?" Ian shot back.

"Fuck you, dickface!" Meg snapped, startling us both. Ian looked pissed but he kept his cool.

"Guys, calm the fuck down. Please? No fighting over tiny kittens." I said, they both rolled their eyes but became quiet. "Meg, I'm sorry. We're kind of outnumbered here." I said. We'd put it to a final vote. Mark Cody and Ian voted no kittens, while Meg and I voted the opposite. My argument was a weak one, though. I couldn't see the little ones being happy and healthy in a moving vehicle. I knew from my own cats that felines didn't usually do well in cars. Oh well, at least I could have kittens for one night.

We purchased one small can of wet cat food, kitten shampoo and some formula and a bottle. When we all gathered back into our tour bus Ricky was waiting with the box in his lap, staring into the mess of kitten.

First we fed them. When I was fifteen I volunteered at a few animal shelters. They taught me how to bottle feed and these kittens were surprisingly easy. They all drank about half a bottle and then they went to the bathroom (with kittens this young you want to use a cotton ball against their tiny kitty bums to resemble a mother cat's tongue) and afterwards we bathed them. Ricky and Meg were the drying cycle, rubbing the kittens in towels to warm and dry their fragile little bodies. 

Soon we were all sitting around just petting and holding them and I noticed Meg crying. When I asked what was wrong she just shook her head and looked away.

"I'm fine." she said, "I'm fine." Meg's been crying a lot lately. 

***

The next morning we dropped them off at an ASPCA clinic to a lady with a perky ponytail who promised they'll be fine. I gave her the things I purchased the previous night too, just so they had no excuse not to treat these kittens well. 

Sitting in the RV as it pulls away, I felt kind of meaningless. Not necessarily sad, just an emptiness that settled over me like a fog.

We had a show later that day and Cody and Ian were stressed out because we were kind of late from our pit-stop. The day passed in a blur and we arrived on time, meeting up with the others. Ricky asked how the kitties were. I told him about perky ponytail. I got dressed, steam punk tonight. Mark loves steam punk shows cause he wears his big top hat. 

We were halfway through a show and I'd just broken through the thickest layer of my anxiety. I was more relaxed. I sang better, jumped around, slipping puns in between songs and entertaining the audience. 

My phone went off and I pulled it out to silence it. A text from Dani clouds my lock screen. Three words. Only three words and I feel everything fall away. My head floats off. My body detaches, several different sections falling like a shattered Rubiks Cube. The pieces tremble, or maybe it's the earth that's shaking. Quaking at the three words. 

Cody touches my arm and that's when I realize I'm still standing. My head is still attached to my body. I pass on the three words, and they come up dry and dead.  

'Abby killed herself.'