Apocalypse Cat

III: Burn Perry Cat

I'm on the floor...

I like to dance...

on my fours... yeah.

I saw our backyard tree enter not-so-humbly into our posh suburban home and I saw the apocalypse start. A gaping hole tore from the ceiling to the ground floor of the house. The large hello kitty attic tilted in a manner that made a few things fall to the back yard soil.

The fall was either affected by the distant impact somehow or the tree simply just decided to take shelter becuase of the explosion (which failed, obviously).

The whole attic floor went rickety so it was a challenge to get to the hatch that lead to London's room.

Oh my poor London, I hope you survived the crash.

I went down the hello-kitty themed room which was grazed by the tree to see two human cadavers charred and impailed. I assumed that the girl lying awkwardly on the floor was Perry. Her face was not affected by the blast but as for Jill--

Ugh. Might be a closed cascet funeral for Jill. Debris impailed her face and body and I refuse to get into the detail.

The room's wall was torn down by the tree. It left no boundary between the hall and London's room. Then I saw her sprawled on the floor, unscratched by the explosion like an angel in hell where the mad embers raged. I walked slowly towards her - hopefully unconscious rather than finding out that she's dead. As I leaned close to her emerald eyes, I started to wonder: does anyone fall out of consciousness with their eyes wide open? My hope had vanished in a second and my tear ducts break. A small moan of despair left my mouth...

"Oh come one Mr. Fluff," said London in a whim, "we both know that my eyes are wide open because of disgust and disbelief thanks to our beloved author over there," London points at an exposed room unscathed by the fallen tree that I somehow never laid my eyes on.

She spoke again giving me no time to react to her fortunate fate: "Behold: the lazy author who plans on discontinuing this story for another ambitious idea of a book that won't work out anyway," she said in blazing rage that I never saw in London before. The kid in the small bedroom spit his coffee which he seemed to have sipped just for the comic opportunity.

"Wait, it's not like that," the author yelled, "I have to admit that fire enraged zombies and an albino cat with it's ten-year-old owner as heros are pretty cool-"

"Pretty cool?! PREEET-TY-KOOL?!" screams  London. "I SAY ITS HELLA RAD," she continued.

"Err... anyway, I'm discontinuing this story because it got old and... I moved on... man... I hope you guys understand... I'll write you as cameos in my next book now how about tha-"

"Stop there, I had enough of your ellipses and your bullesheet. C'mon Mr. Fluff, let's beat this guy up before he starts the author's n---

A/N: I owe anyone who is still anticipating this story. I know, I really really appreciate ever spec of support I received inside Wattpad and outside but I don't feel like continuing this story anymore, it felt less mature - not immature - than I'd expected. I know, I feel terrible for giving up but this story has been released but not planned out. Meh peace yo.