The Cat

Chapter 1

“All men are fucking stupid, and I swear them off for life!” I shouted into the darkness of the night, oblivious to anyone who would react violently to my inappropriate behavior. I no longer cared because what I have recently witnessed was a mind-numbing experience, and I just felt like I needed to get all the bitterness out of my system no matter what it cost.

I threw away the bottle of booze I had in my hand a few moments ago, but thankfully I bought a whole bag before I went to one of my most favorite spots in the world: a viewing deck where one could see a magnificent view of the Brooklyn Bridge. It was an hour or two after midnight, and I knew this place would be deserted except for a couple of hobos who would look at me with so much hostility because of the commotion I have caused.

“Why do I even bother putting myself out there when all I get are jerks who don’t know how to treat women?!”

“Maybe you should shut up since some people are sleeping here!” I heard a hobo’s voice in the distance, and I realized that if I wanted to stay here longer, I am going to have to keep the volume to a minimum.

Instead of shouting and flailing around like I originally planned, I decided to sulk on a nearby bench. I nursed the paper bag full of solace serum, as I looked at the sparkling outline of the bridge and the city that never sleeps.

“I’ve never really fallen in love before because I was too scared. Too scared to get hurt. Too scared that if or when I get hurt, I wouldn’t be able to recover. The first time sucked because I firmly believed that I got it right the first time, but then I was just a foolish girl who believed that relationships were all romance. I thought I grew wiser, so the second time around I was more cautious, but then he also broke my heart. Three is my lucky number, and I blindly hoped that I’d be lucky this time around, but like the other times, I’ve been a stupid fool. There is no one out there who’d love me truly. Before I believed that those who had fallen in love because of ‘practical’ reasons were sort of cynical, but now I’m going to join their boat. I don’t want to be the starry-eyed romantic who foolishly gives her heart to someone who’d inevitably break it. I’m tired of being this depressed, fucked-up girl who deserves a lot more. I’m not this girl. I know I’m not.”

I may have seemed insane to any passer-by, but luckily I was very much alone as I spoke my heart out. I knew no one was listening, but I felt so much better just hearing myself come to conclusions and realizations I should have had before I experienced my nth heartbreak. I sighed heavily, hopefully releasing all the tension that has built up within my heart and mind. I was mindlessly tracing the rim of a beer bottle when I heard the unmistakable meow of a cat.

I was never really an animal person, so I just ignored the sound. I thought it would stop, but boy it continued meowing as if its life depended on it. I grew annoyed, so I started looking for it in order to find a way to stop it. I looked under the bench and to my left and right where there were a couple of bushes in the distance. Eventually my gaze landed on a trash can a few feet away from me. I knew without a doubt the cat was inside—maybe it was meowing continuously because it was crying for help.

I slowly made my way to the trash can, surprised that I could still walk in a straight line. When I reached it, I quickly peered in and found an adorable tabby cat which seemed to be only a few months old. It was in a garbage bin, in New York City, which was probably full of God-knows-what. Any normal, sane person would not think of retrieving the cat from a filthy garbage can, but at this point, I was not any normal, sane person. The cat seemed miserable, and so was I, so with my bare hands, I slightly bent into the trash bin in order to save it from its misery.

I was able to rescue it, ignoring the slight stench that probably stuck on my worn out office work attire. I gently placed it on the pavement and shooed it away. “Go away, you mangy little beast. Go home, go somewhere, and leave me be. Just like the rest of the guys whom I’ve dated. I’ve cared for them so much, and then one day they just decided to walk away and never look back, knowing that I’ve already fixed what was wrong with them. Bastards.” I realized I was no longer talking to the cat, so I reverted my attention to it and was still mildly shocked that it was just looking at me with curious eyes as I was ranting and venting my frustrations.

“Huh… well, looks like you’ve been miserable, too.” I walked back to the bench and when I sat down, the cat was on my heels. It started purring, as if I was someone it definitely liked.

“You know, I’m not really an animal person.” But it did not stop walking between my ankles.

Eventually I picked it up and looked at it straight in the eye. “I’m probably as miserable as you, so I’m not sure we can actually help each other become happy.”

It just continued to stare at me, and to any third person, my exchange with the cat definitely looked like a sign of insanity.

I sighed and placed the furball beside me. “Alright, I’ll let you stay with me, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be a lovey-dovey owner.”

It did not fully sink in at that moment that I was committing to becoming a pet owner. The sky was beginning to look like a magnificent palette of colors, and I had to go home and rest since I have work the next day. Surprisingly, the cat stayed beside me the entire night as I chugged alcohol. In my inebriated state, I carried the cat as gently as I could, as I threw away the paper bag of my depression.