𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 || Original Story

twenty-seven | horrible

I was rudely awoken the next morning by a whiny set of 'meows'. Felix was stood over me, his bright eyes staring down and his tail swishing from side to side. He mewled again, showing his small, yet very sharp teeth.

He jumped off the bed as soon as I sat up and stood by the door, waiting expectantly. This is what he did when he wanted food or to go outside and he wouldn't leave me alone until he got what he wanted.

That cat was clever. There was no denying it.

I trudged downstairs and gave Felix some food before eating my own breakfast. I had a glass of orange juice and some porridge before going back upstairs to get changed. Felix had followed me up and I hadn't noticed until he was curled up on the window sill, catching the sun rays that were shining through the glass.

It looked like today was going to be a nice day.

I decided to read for a while, sitting slumped in my desk chair with a cup of tea that I almost let go cold. Just before lunch, I went out to the garden and found the watering can, filling it up to the brim with the outside tap and wandering around to the front of the house.

Felix had followed me again, purring contently and flicking the tip of his tail. He stared up at me with his piercing eyes, impatiently waiting for me to scratch his ears. I figured that was what he liked best and had finally deciphered what the stare meant. Felix was almost dog-like in how he behaved, but almost certainly human in his tendency to be lazy.

He soon jumped up onto the fence, using it as a lookout post and scanning the field on the other side and back to the porch. He was happy and so was I.

I made several trips to the tap, continuously filling the watering can, so that the flowers and plants that lined the length of the fence could get plenty of water. The sun was beginning to warm the air and dry the surroundings, so it was only fair that I watered everything I possibly could.

I turned around to see if Felix was still sat on the fence, but instead I cringed when I saw Officer Thompson strolling up the path, his hands in the pockets of his uniform trousers. The stern, stoic expression I remembered him wearing when I first met him was no longer present- it had now softened and almost smiling.

I looked away as he approached, carrying on watering the flowers in the pots by the front door.

"Good morning, Mr Bailey," he greeted.

I didn't particularly want to interact with him, but echoed his reply quietly and politely.

"I was just coming to see if you'd settled in properly," he said as he stood still at a reasonable distance, knowing not to come too close. "You know, considering you've been here a while."

"Th-That's very k-kind of you," I replied, still avoiding his gaze.

"So, have you?"