Chapter 1
The black cat once again sat pretty on my doorstep, waiting for me to arrive beside it for a quick, fleeting moment. It was a so-called endless cycle that would occur almost every night when the streets were sound asleep. I even knew who the cat belonged to, an irresponsible, teenage boy three doors down the road who refused to take movement on the accord of my complaints. Despite my irritated visits, he'd always let the cat slip from his household into the night with no hesitation. He had a stubborn mind that couldn't ever follow my requests for whatever reason he had to justify so.
I peek through the small space of the window beside the crinkly curtains to see the cat still there; it constantly scratching my door. As pretty and harmless as the cat seemed, the bottom half of my door was facing the ruins of its claws. I heave a brief sigh and turn my head to check the time, 11:58. Swiping the remote from the coffee table in front of me, I mute the tv that was already a low-volumed background noise. I close my laptop and set it aside off my lap; my English paper would just have to wait.
Twisting the doorknob, the cat stops its disruptive clawing session to look up at me innocently. I smile tightly as I pet its silky fur to calm and satisfy the cat's needy wants. I coil it into my arms after a short minute to return it like a parallel to all the other encounters of the night. The sky was a saturated dark blue along with the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk, the moon a crescent. The cat starts to rile and attempts to hop out of my arms to let its stay last a little langer. Though I instead do my best to ignore it and pick up my pace as the house nears.
When I arrive upon the house I've come to learn would be familiar, I knock loudly. Within a few seconds flat, the boy opens the door with a yawn escaping his lips.
"Apologize," I demanded, extending the cat closer for him to take. Honestly, I have always been fed up with the constant burden this routine had become. Not once had the boy said sorry, nor has he come to take it back himself.
"I've done nothing besides giving my cat his freedom, Valerie." He smiles lazily, bringing the cat into him arms. "I don't know why you keep insisting for an apology; you're not getting one."
"And why is that?" I ask him exasperatedly. "Your cat persistently scratches on my door, I'm deprived of sleep or interupted of my activities to return it to you when you can't even bother to do so yourself, and I do it all over again. Every night. Please explain to me why in the world I don't deserve an apology."
The boy smiles, oh how I hate that victorious look when he smiles. "That's a secret for the future, Valerie."
I roll my eyes and huff at his response. He was always speaking in metaphors or secrets, like he wanted to be the mystery of the world - or at least in the eyes of someone like myself.
"I'm tired of being roped into your mystery circles." I cross my arms so they'd stop jittering with irritation. "It's exhausting. I wake up or wait the time out until midnight to return your precious cat. No apologies, no thank you's in return. You're lucky I don't leave it there or that it doesn't wonder off and get lost; I wonder why the fur ball hasn't just completely left the neighborhood yet."
"Then why don't you?" He raises an eyebrow calmly. "Leave my cat to sit there in the cold, I mean."
"Because that's just being courteous, I'm not some ignorant person like you presumably." I respond with a bitter taste on the edge of my tongue. "Plus the cat is always scratching on my door, which I'd really like the money to fix by the way."
"I thought you lived alone?" The boy questions in a slight mutter. "You can afford to pay rent, what's the addition to the tab gonna do?"
I frustratedly grind my teeth together. "Stop changing the subject! I'm not rich okay, I work with my all to keep the lights on! I don't have money to toss on minuscule things like the door, I don't have the time for this conversation, I don't have the energy to do this routine every night, and I don't have the patience to play your word games. Keep letting your stupid cat out for all I care, just know that next time I'm not going to take the journey to relive this night over again."
I turn around and take long steps closer to home; the faster I flee the scene, the better.
"Hey, Valerie!" The boy calls out a quick moment after. I can hear his shoes scrape the ground as runs to close the distance. When my walking comes to a halt, I stare at him impatiently as I wait for his next words.
"What?" I say rather rudely when I'm met with his silence.
"I'll pay for the door," The boy responds after a few breaths.
"I think you completely missed my point, imbecile." My eyes narrow at his oblivion. "I'm not overwhelming worried about the expenses to polish my door. All I ask is that you stop letting your cat out to bother me in the middle of the night when I clearly have more important things to do."
"I'm sorry," The boy sighs out the words. For some reason, it felt like he meant them. Before he can continue on, I interrupt him.
An amused smile tugs the edges of my lips when the waves of shock fade. "Excuse me, what was that?"
"I said I'm sorry," The boy repeats.
"Oh my bad, I didn't feel like listening that time." I tease sarcastically. "May I hear it clearer?"
"I see what you're doing, ha ha." The boy chuckles lightly, soft as feathers. "But yeah, I'm really sorry. And I know that seems odd after not owing you one properly like I should've done ages ago, but if you don't mind, we could get coffee for your tiredness tomorrow evening? I'd explain it all there if you want me to. Coffee on me of course."
I soak in the offer, twiddling with a couple strands of my wavy hair. "You're lucky I'm too curious to decline."
"And you're lucky that sleep will find its way to you soon." He backs away slowly with a mocking solute. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I merely smile.
Once I've entered my house, door locked and shut, I sigh heavily before gravitating back to the couch. I curl up into my blankets to retrieve the warmth I had missed when stuck outside in the transition from winter to spring.
Eventually, I finish the last few sentences of my English paper and submit it so I wouldn't have to worry over the deadline set in early morning. Which to truth was not far away.
Too tired to fight the burn in my limbs, I snuggle up into a pillow on the couch and stretch my legs. Hopefully after a large coffee tomorrow afternoon, I'd be reminded of the endless serenade of peace.
As much as I had become accustomed to the cycle of midnight interruptions, maybe this was the end of its era. I fall fast asleep to the calmness soaking in the bubble I'd consumed myself in.
Though I bathe peacefully in the comfort of a home that doesn't speak, as I rest my eyes, I'm unsure if this is a life I will adjust to with ease.
Tonight I wait for the boy's surrender, I'm not sure when it'll be, but I assume it'll be soon.
