The Scarlet Grimoire

Chapter 1

The sun trickels through my open curtains and the bright light hits my face. I can feel the heat of the morning sun ... the promise of another sweltering day to come.

I groan and turn around, hugging my pillow and trying to block the morning chirps of the birds outside my window from my mind. With a sign, I relish the fresh linen smell of my pillow case and try to kick off the tangle of duvet from my feet. A strawberry-blonde curl lies over my cheek and moves with my breath ... as I prepare to steal a few more minutes of blissfull sleep.

A heavy thud on the bed wakes me, promptly followed by a heavy weight moving from the end of the bed towards my lower back. It stops, starts purring loudly and prompts me with a tap of her paw on my bum. Another, softer thud lands near my head and starts licking my ear. The raspy tongue on my sensitive, morning skin is enough to make me spin around, onto my back with a exasperated sigh. 'Come on guys, just a few more minutes, please?! I'll give you treats if you leave me alone...'

Its official. I am a crazy cat lady, who is not only talking to her cats, but also negotiating with them.

　

I open my one eye to peek at the two fur-balls on my bed. Their blue-grey eyes are quite clear... 'Feed us, human'.

I kick my legs straight and they both just stare at me. Obviously any sort of mini-tantrum will not feed them. 'Okay, okay ... I'm up, you little furry nazi's"

I stumble out of bed and pull the hem of my t-shirt down. I have never really been a traditional pajama person and thanks to the fact that I live alone, I can wear my questionable concert t-shirts to bed.

Katya and Jaggs jumps off the bed and follows me to the kitchen. They are quite chuffed with the fact that they will be fed, now that they human is up and awake. 'I wish you two could operate a can opener and feed yourself ' , I say as I walk into the kitchen. The cats purr and follow me ... blissfully happy with the prospect of food.

At the not-so-tender age of 29, I am officially a crazy cat-lady. I will schedule my weekends, social appointments and life around the two furr-balls by my feet, but I do not mind for a second...

　

My sister gave me Jaggs as a house-warming gift - knowing that I have always has a mild obsession with ginger cats. Her tiny little body curled up on my lap and started purring straight away. Her tiny blue-grey eyes closed after she sniffed my hand and she fell asleep within half an hour ... We were meant to be. She had found her human pet for life.

　

I adopted Katya from a local animal shelter shortly after; feeling that Jaggs needed a friend to keep her occupied while I was at work during the day.

Or that was the excuse I used when I arrived home one day with Katya in a box, after I was supposed to do some volunteer work at the local animal shelter. Since I was not a big dog person, I was the only volunteer that were allocated to the Cattery that day. When I saw Katya through the bars of her cage at the back of the Cattery, I knew that she would be the perfect sister to Jaggs. Her bright eyes and sharp meeauw made me rush through the cattery duties and fill in adoption forms before thinking twice.

　

Wow - I am such a sucker for cats.

Now - my cats are ruling my life and denying me some much needed rest.

　

Knowing that the liabrary only opens at 10h00, I was hoping to sleep in a bit, before going to work. Yes, this crazy cat-lady is a pat-time liabrarian ... of all things.

　

Originally I started my studies to become a nurse like my aunt. Her ability to help people and tender nature was something that appealed to me in every way as a child. My parents are more structured people ... accountant and engineer. The prospect of helping people and making them comfortable was greatly appealing to me, especially since I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

　

After the frist semester of doing all kinds of gross things in hospitals, ranging from cleaning bedpans to giving fat, perverted old men sponge baths, I decided to rather leave the nursing side of things to people that are better suited for the job. I ended up as an assistant nurse at the local nut house for practical experience.... where I got hooked on crazy.

I adjusted my studies to phsycology and spent a few years documenting, talking and studying the mentally disturbed patients at the hospital. I realized that I liked crazy... or as I prefered to refer to the patients - the 'other-worldly aware'.

　

The facination with the views and beliefs of those that society would deem 'unfit' to be in the outside world, kept me interested for years. And at the risk of getting to involved with them, my professor advised that I spend less time at the phsych ward and finish my thesis while working another job too. I decided on the topic of 'Obsessions and Beliefs of the Modern World and their impact on Modern Phsycology'.

Now I have a part-time job at the town library, giving me enough time to do research, compare notes and also study the socially-approved obsessed people that do not warrent hospitalization. Some of the blissfully ignorant case studies include Soccer-moms looking for DIY how-to's, great-grannies looking for the latest naughty novel, tweed-wearing men asking for bird-books and the occasional emo teen asking for the latest vampire-fiction. The obsessions and interests of our generation is truly facinating. The line between fanatic and obsessed is also quite fine, so the position at the library perfectly compliments my patient studies at the hospital.

　

I jump into the shower and start humming a song I heard a few days ago. Amazing how things get stuck in your head. For some reason I cannot place the song I am humming, but is has a Celtic sound to it. I peek around the showercurtain, to find both my cats sitting in the bathroom, staring at me.

Katya is on the toilet seat and Jaggs is sitting on the top, patiently waiting for me to finish up. 'Don't you dare rush me ... you have your food, ladies'... and I continue my routine of getting ready for the day.

　

Clean and clothed, with a strong cup of coffee in my system, I wander around my apartment dressed and ready to go to work, grabbing all the elements I need to keep me occupied and entertained while I am at the liabrary. Although the smell of books calm me and nurture my introverted tendencies, there is only so much you can do at a place for 6 hours without falling asleep.

Monday crowds are normally quite relaxed. I expect some of the emo teens to wander in to ask for the latest werewolf novel that recently became available and then forecast a strong interest in vampire novels too, thanks to last Saturday's movie Interview with the Vampire.

As I grab my keys and helmet, I rub the cats and greet them as I leave. Both of the cats ignore me and stare towards the tall mirror in my lounge ... a random habit they have picked up in the last week. As the door closes behind me, I am almost sure I smell something like cinnamon coming from my apartment. I shrug my shoulders and decided that it must be my brain's way of saying I was CinnaBuns for breakfast, since I do not have any spices other than peri-peri, salt and pepper in my kitchen.

Thanks to my cats waking me early, I have enough time to kill before clocking in at the Town Library. I climb on my trusty scooter in the parking lot and zoom off to the shop for a cuppachino and CinbaBun.