Five Hundred And Five (An Older Fiction Story I Wrote)

         Upside down and inches from my face there it was, there he was. A cat's face that both annoyed and amused me; I will admit though, a restrained terror was my first response when I woke up. I'm still not used to him.

          I'm not a cat person (something I think he uses this to his advantage), and I never have been. I am close to my sister though, and when she was gone I couldn't just let him go. He didn't wanna leave her at first (knowing something was wrong when she didn't wake up), and so I took him since he knew me from frequent visits. I wanted to have closure, I needed it since it was sudden (I think both of us did), and so I took him with me.

           He didn't eat much (if any) at first, and then one day that changed. He met me on my bed, fast asleep, waiting patiently until I woke up, and then meowed. He was hungry. I was hungry. We both wanted change that we were hungry for. This first time only brought annoyance, and so I got up and we started to live again.

         Day after day this became routine, only it was always a face-to-face greeting. We began realizing we'd need each other, and he was able to accept it faster than I. Slowly it changed and in this unusual bond we began to heal. We grew together. I'm still not a cat person; I think he's more than a cat though and I more than his person. Funny how five hundred miles to get him and five days after can change us (those who aren't "cat people" I mean). I do wish he'd wait for his breakfast though off the bed.

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