Remember Me

Remember Me - Chapter 2

I closed the door behind me, my shoulders falling as I was immersed in the heat of my apartment. Saying that was cold outside would be an understatement. I pressed my fingertips to my lips, and breathed out slowly, closing my eyes in an attempt to warm up my frozen fingers.

I stayed in that position for a few minutes, leaning against the door, enjoying the warm and the safety of my apartment. The wait for the lift had taken far too long, probably due to some youths messing about with it again. It wouldn’t surprise me to be honest. There had been many times where I had bumped into the crowd of youngsters that were up to no good. I didn’t really care, as long as they didn’t get in my way.

The small block of apartments I lived in may not have been the most glamorous London had to offer, nor was it in a state that health and safety would consider pristine, but it had a good location, and was dirt cheap.  The latter was mostly due to my own haggling with the owner.

I was good with words, and with wiggling myself out of situations like that. The landlady wanted more money that I had, I pushed the price down by having a good chat with her. I had found out most of her personal life from that one afternoon, and I used that information to my advantage. This skill came with being a journalist. Some may say that my actions were wrong, and I didn’t disagree. In any other situation, I would frown upon it, and so would the authorities, but I needed the place.

There was a crash from the kitchen, and I was thrown back into reality. I tensed up immediately, subconsciously pressing myself back against the door, my blue eyes wide with shock and fear. I stepped forwards slowly, my breath held. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I felt the draft from the front door brush over me, and it did nothing to calm my racing heart.

I turned the corner to peer into the kitchen, and groaned.

“What are you doing?”

I stepped forward, and bent over to look at the small tabby cat that was perched on the kitchen counter. It meowed at me, its large amber eyes inspecting me. I sighed, and stroked its head, rolling my eyes. Of course, it was just the cat.

“Here Puss-cat,” I said, reaching above the tabby and opening a cabinet. The cat’s gaze followed my hand, and I couldn’t help but smirk. This cat was a fast learner. I pulled out a box of treats, and dug my hand into it, pulling out two fish shaped biscuits. I held my palm outwards and chuckled as the cat ate out of my hand. I stroked her absent mindedly, thinking back to how she had first turned up on my doorstep two months ago.

It had been like any other normal day in the office. I worked solidly, and had come home expecting to put my feet up and enjoy some free time reading some interesting articles I had dug out from the archives. Although things didn’t go exactly as I had planned.

I had come home to find the stick thin cat pawing at my door. I had stood still for a few seconds, eying up the cat that I had never seen before.  Its fur was patchy in areas, and it was meowing feebly, tugging at my heartstrings.

So I did what any normal person would do. I took in the cat. I checked it for ticks and for dental problems the next day, and all was clear. I gave it food, water, toys and a little bed. Though, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to notice anyone that I had found their cat. I didn’t even know her true name, and simply nicknamed her ‘Puss-cat’. And so she became mine. Or rather, my flat became hers.

I always was a dog person, having grown up with dogs all my life, so when a cat appeared on my doorstep, it was a completely new thing for me. Intimidated and uneducated, I was cautious around the cat. I had no idea how its personality would differ from a dogs. Dogs were loyal, by your side 24/7, and playful. Cats on the other hand… well, I soon learnt that they did what they wanted. Puss-cat would be at home one day, and then be gone for two. I always saw her to be a part of an underground cat gang, disappearing to complete dark and meaningful assignments, in a childish sort of way.