Ten Lives and Counting

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The rest of the day Caitlyn completely hogs Kit. Of course, she doesn't call her Kit, she named her Princess Fuzzywumps. I shudder for Kit, what terrible torture. So I take the liberty to pamper myself and paint my nails. They have grown awfully long in the past two days. I suspect being cat has had something to do with that. I glanced around my bedroom, reliving all of the memories that had taken place under my lavender canopy bed. Reading books with my sister, Kit's visit, this room has amazing sentimental value. I'm thinking of redoing the decor, because the room still reflects my thirteen-year-old personality. After a few hours, Kit sidles in and whispers, "Tia." I shift positions to look at her and am extremely startled at what I find. Kit is dressed in a pink tutu and she has blue bows lined up on her tail, like soldiers marching single file. I find it very hard to suppress the urge to giggle. Kit looks disgraced, frowning at me. Suddenly I hear Caitlyn's voice reverberating through the narrow hallway, "Princess Fuzzywumps! Where are you?" Our hallway's golden hardwood floors make Caitlyn's voice sound like a whale. I wink at Kit and jokingly banter, "Your time has come." Kit stalks out with a pained look on her face, I smirk and turn back to my nails. I was in the process of painting them black. Honestly, I didn't even know I had black polish, maybe it's a cat thing. A thin pigmented drop drips of off the brush and splatters onto my floor. That was stupid, I thought to myself with an internal groan, I wish I could turn back time, mom is going to kill me. As if the paint was listening, it gathered itself up and flung upwards into my bottle, along with the brush. Awestruck, I gasp. Maybe there are some perks to being a cat-girl. Are cats telekinetic? I stare at the gauzy lamp across my bedroom and think, Turn on. Nothing happens. Maybe it is just a reflex, like cats always landing on their feet. I turn away and refocus my energy to my nails.

In a moment, the brush detaches itself from my hands and begins to paint, as if it was on autopilot. Wow, I thought, I am telekinetic! What if I can't control it? I move my hands and the brush follows, I swing my hands in huge jerky circles, the brush still follows. Too mesmerized to laugh I command the brush to push itself back into the bottle.

It seems to sense my trance and removes itself from my sight. Kit slinks in, glad because Caitlyn had karate lessons. "'Ello mate," I say with an Australian accent, mocking Kit's British one, "Anythin' new?" Kit glared at me. "Do you want to know what's new with me?Huh, Kit. I am telekinetic!" I shriek, practically hysterical. "Is that a normal cat-savior thing?" I flop onto my lavender bed, wishing to scream. Kit stretches out and purrs slightly. Enjoying the peace, Kit closes her eyes and is soon fast asleep. I guess I'll have to grill Kit for answers later.

Seeing as Kit is occupying my bed, I yank a few blankets from my closet and find clean floor to sleep on. As it turns out, floors are magnificently hard and painful to sleep on. My sleep-deprived mind wonders if I would be more comfortable as a cat. The hazy fuzz occupying my brain decides that it would be.