Apocalypse Cat

I: British Boyband Cat

     Even though my name is Mr. Fluff, and even though I hated it, even though they took me away from my mother, and cut my balls out,

     I loved them so much.

     Meh, questionable.

     My humans, London who was 14, the one who I least tolerate, her parants Mr. and Mrs. McEanore. Maybe I'll miss Odie the Chihuahua too but, nah.

     I once lived in a warm two storey house. Three rooms on the second floor including the master's, a wide back yard, and two attics. TWO FREAKING ATTICS. The other attic was connected to London's room- her 'hideout'. Pretty fancy. It was decorated with almost anything pink and my excrement. The other attic was just a plain-ol-attic filled with the family's abbots and mice, collecting dust as ever.

     Rich people who can't afford to have pest control or have spring cleaning. Bah.

     The pink Hello Kitty themed attic was London's favorite part of the house. It was also my favorite part of the house since it was cleaner than the other one and can't be reached by Odie. I practically spent half of the two years of my cat life there (including the ones and twos). We shared that attic with care even though it reeked of my pee, not that I don't mind though. So did London anyway.

     Or so I thought.

     Even did the dog. Dogs have like an otherworldly sense of smell and Odie can smell a burrito a city away. No kidding. He went missing last year and went home after a week with mush on his face.

     A family cat and a dog.

     Of course. They HAD to follow the stereotype.

     It's a good thing that dogs can't climb ladders though. Especially that munchkin. I am practically larger than him and he's ten years old.

     Every summer, The family ocassionally went to the beach leaving me and Odie behind.

     We ignored each other. Both of us would disagree about the 'get to know each other' idea. It seemed that Odie equally hated me. Not that I mind. Again.

     Fun fact, we can communicate by paw language but only when necessary. Get it? Hahahaha.

---

     London would invite her friends over sporadically and complimemt my beautiful snowy fur and deep blue eyes.

     I was their favorite and Odie would just be a shadow cast by me.

     Spoiled, I am.

     London and the two girls that she usually brought were I quote and unquote, "best friends".

     Or what London thought so.

      London's 'friends' are so fake, even Barbie is jealous of them.

----

     One cozy, summer evening, around July, where Odie the Chihuahua was barking at some imaginary Opossum or signalling a nearing burrito stand, where the branches of the oak tree that stood at the back yard poked at the circular window on London's Hello Kitty attic as if begging for entrance in the cozy family house, Perry and Jill, London's 'best friends', stayed for a sleepover.

     I was at the corner of the attic near that circular window, uninterested about the girls' agenda, while London and her friends hung-out at her room.

      Her stereo set was on, the pink one that she begged for Mr. McEanore.

     It was playing some song from a british boyband that she loved so much that she cried for her mom for a ticket and didn't mind going alone. She once suggested that she'd drive but hell, the girl's just twelve! The band, they looked british in the posters that London hung. I think it's a thing for twelve-year-olds to like british boys. London seems to connect though: London, Europe, oh I don't know.

     It was L-O-U-D, LOUD! I couldn't hear my own purring then!

     The song was upbeat and the bass vibrated in my stomach like loud footsteps and hungry human moans.

     Wait...

     Sheesh. What has human culture degraded into?

     "So get out,"

     *Blood curdling scream*

     "get out,"

     *Bashing sounds*

     "get out of my head."

     I swear, I thought I heard Odie's whinining.

     The song was pretty good though, I guess. Except for the unnecesarry screaming and whatever.

     The music was cut in an abrupt manner. The Hello Kitty stereo was switched off.

     I thought I was finally able to sleep when I heard a set of loud squeals.

     Did the boyband suddenly pop out of the stereo? Like that would ever happen.

     I mentally facepalmed for even imagining that ridiculous situation where London and her 'friends' would faint while covering their sweaty forehead with their sweaty wrists like the comical way.

     But a cat writing a book about the apocalypse sounded even more ridiculous.

     My momentarily winding thoughts were suddenly cut when another set of teen aged squeals boomed with such audacity. Scratch that, boomed with force

     No. Screams. Possible screams of terror. One that London would emit if she saw a huge mouse the size of her pudgy foot. But the terror was different. Her bombastic scream that mixed with Perry's and Jill's radiated with an immense force that raised the fur on my back.

    Being the beloved family cat I am, I swiftly rushed to --- not caring, I didn't mind checking. It was the dog's job anyway, my only responsibility here is to catch the mice. If the situation involved homeland security, it's still the dog's. Whose fault is it anyway for buying a Beverly Hills Fad Accessory as a house pet or for adopting a lazy cat? Not me.

     It was out of my concern. It was a natural law for cats to not care. It was a natural law for us to be selfish that I'd love to follow. An offensive stereotype that I personally hated but yeah, I did not care, I will not care, and won't care. Instead, I ignored the current event of probably a Martian attack and fell into a cat nap.

      I dreamt of the boring. Dreaming for a cat was like sleeping to ignore the whole world and watch it again with no other option. I dreamt about everything from eating breakfast hours ago to hearing Odie's barking a while back.

     I was completely aware that I was dreaming. A 'defense mechanism' that I so called that the humans did not have.

      My short slumber ended when I heard pained whining associated with gushing and disgusting sounds.

     I debated against thinking if it was my stomach begging for corn flakes or a huge animal eating Odie.

     Either way, I would still try to take some corn flakes.

~~~

Hello, author here, how was the first chapter? hope you enjoyed~! vote or fan- YOUR VOTE AIN'T FOR NOTHING

like making me happy and that shit.

~Bittenbooty