I might as well get it over with and tell you who I am. My name is Katrina. My last name bears no importance, so I am not going to tell you. But nobody in the neighborhood calls me that. I am known as the 62 year old cat-lady. I am now in the living room sitting in my favorite chair. (my only chair) I just came from the basement to check on my cats. They are all dead.
Of course it’s my fault. The loss of my cats is devastating but the least of my problems. I lost my job because I was late too often. That was two months ago. In the meantime I have been ignoring the door and my phone. I have got eviction notices because I cant pay my bills, and animal control won’t leave me alone. They heard from my snot-nosed neighbor that my place is not fitting for 50 cats. I had to dig through dumpsters just to stay alive. I scrounged as much as I could for my cats, but that apparently wasn’t enough. How could all of my cats die at or around the same time due to malnutrition? I must confess that I am a hoarder. In the basement, the mix of garbage and empty cans of chemicals could be the perpetrator. Is it possible that vapors could arise in that enclosed place. The single four-pane window is always closed. I slept.
A horrible screeching noise woke me. It was coming from the door that led to my basement. When I got up and walked to the door, the sound grew louder. When I opened the door, I slowly descended to the bottom of the stairs..cautiously. There was movement everywhere. My cats were now alive!! I take that back, only the black ones are. I have 10 cats that are a different color. They still stayed motionless. It was a great enough shock that my black ones were now alive, but even a greater shock on what they were doing to the motionless ones. They were eating them alive. Of those that weren’t were crowded around my single window clawing to get out. Getting over the shock, and what I believed was happening was easier then I expected. I had an idea.
It became obvious to me on what was happening. They were no longer my cats. On a closer look, they looked different. Their eyes had no pupils, just a milky white color. And all of their teeth grew as long as their fangs. I could hear the crack of splintered bone coming from the dead cats they were devouring. One scene showed three cats on one tearing it apart. They were severing the limbs from the animal as they devoured it. Although I never given my idea a second choice, I moved fast just in case my courage died down. I was near the bottom of the stairs, but no cats paid no mind to me. I don’t think they even saw me yet. Near the left of the stairs, I found a brick. At this point it didn’t really matter if the cats saw me. This was a time for revenge. Without notice, I hauled the brick at the window hitting a bulls-eye. At first, the cats moved away from the window, and in a trance-like state they walked out of the window. They were quickly followed by many more. I walked into the center of the room, welcoming my own death. As the remaining cats attacked me, one last thought came to mind as I heard the scratch and tear of my own flesh. Society has always done me wrong. (especially my snot-nosed neighbor) I just wished I was around long enough to witness the conclusion of what I released onto this small town.