Sulfur & Tealights

Consequences

The familiar cushion of a foam mattress laid over plastic milk crates greeted her when she woke. She also noticed an inordinate amount of pressure on her chest. Once her bleary, grey eyes finally focused, they stared at the large black cat laying on her.

Odd. Had Laura left that with her?

"Floof." She pulled a hand from under the blankets to pet the animal. Most of what she thought was fat was actually fur.

Its greenish-yellow eyes continued to stare her down. She noticed it didn't have a collar.

"Are you a stray?" she wondered aloud. Laura didn't have a cat. Even if she did, why would she leave one with her?

Its large eyes narrowed.

Mel chuckled. What an expressive little thing. "I wonder how many people find you intimidating with that adorable wittle face," she cooed.

"I wonder how you would feel if I clawed your eyes out."

Mel froze. The cat stared. She let out a disbelieving huff.

"Oh, gosh. I'm hallucinating," she whispered, lifting the cat off her. It repositioned itself at the end of the mattress while she made her way to the bathroom.

Her face looked pallid, even compared to her normal shade, and it shone under the harsh light coming from above the mirror. Dark, ash brown locks that had begun to string hung heavily from her head.

She would take a shower, and then she would eat some granola bars or whatever was in her cupboards, and the cat would be gone because how the hell did a stray cat get two floors up an apartment building and through a locked door?

If only she knew.

It was a warm day and she wasn't planning on leaving her little space in case she had another episode out in public, so she opted to search the apartment in basketball shorts and an unpadded sports bra. Just as she expected, the cat was nowhere to be seen. She ambled into the kitchen for the granola she'd been thinking about, then changed her mind and grabbed a vanilla yogurt cup out of the blue mini fridge on the counter.

The previous tenants owned the refrigerator that had been in the apartment before, and they took it with them when they left. Mel had not wanted to spend money on extra space she was unlikely to use, so she opted for the pygmy edition of what most people used to keep food fresh.

Mrrroooow.

Mel paused her effort to crumble the hard granola bar in its wrapper and slowly turned around. There, on the fridge, sat the floofball she was supposed to have hallucinated.

The wrapper crinkled furiously as she redoubled her work on the granola bar. Over the loudness she heard a faint thump on the counter and the clack of tiny claws. It sat next to her open yogurt cup, its fluff dangerously close to dipping into her breakfast. She moved the cup. It stared intently into her eyes. When she refused to acknowledge it, it padded over to the yogurt and shoved its face in.

She dropped the bar and hurriedly grabbed a paper towel. The cat licked most of the yogurt off its nose, but still had a bit on its closed eyelids. After wiping off what was left, she threw the towel and yogurt away.

"That was good yogurt!" She glared at the beast, who looked very smug. Exasperation washed over her. "I probably just wasted it because you're not real." She groaned. "Now my granola is ruined." There was one yogurt left, but she was saving that for the next morning. She supposed she could eat the granola with a spoon.