Oh How The Kill Will Be Sweet

This is it, I thought to myself, oh how the kill will be sweet. I assumed position, putting my chin to the floor for accuracy, and my tail in the air for swiftness; it was the perfect operation, clean and quick. My senses heightened, and I focused in on his wiry body. He was going to be delicious. The little bastard didn’t know what he had coming, didn’t know that he would no longer be harming my family, with that ominous black frame, and those scraggly needles of legs. Just one swift motion, and it’d all be over.

I heard The Big Door open upstairs, Jamie! Then a loud, slurred yell from his mother, maybe something fantastic happened, I thought, but probably not.

For a brief moment, I stayed completely still. The yelling continued...don’t get distracted. I had observed the beast for the past hour, and this was my chance, he had stayed still for once. Perhaps a moment of rest, as we’d both had quite the chase. I had to do it…

I pounced!

Within seconds, his little body was in the grasp of my sharp claws, and he was completely helpless. I smacked him around for a bit before pressing him to the ground, then put him in my mouth and bit down. Crunch, yuck. He tasted like chicken that had gone bad. I quickly spat his carcass out, pushing the idea of a snack away.

In the end, I was victorious. His legs were tangled and his body twitched. I felt a tough sense of pride, and was just about to paw him under the bed when I heard footsteps.

It was Jamie! He was wearing a purple button down shirt with white little butterflies scattered throughout, black tight pants, and a big backpack that I loved to poke my head into. I remembered when he had brought the shirt home in a navy paper bag, how animated his eyes were, and how he kept the bag in his room for three days straight, allowing me to sit in it’s godliness. This was the first time I had seen him wear it since. Now, his eyes were red.

“What’re you up to little guy?” He asked.

I meowed, and led him to his room, making note of the weird smell coming from his fingers. When he saw the dead body, it seemed like all the sadness had been washed away.

“Oliver! You killed another spider, you little orange warrior. If mom saw this, you’d be out of here,” Jamie said as he used a piece of tissue to pick up the body, and disposed of it in his bin of treasures, which sadly got emptied each week. Spider, what a wimpy name. Jamie’s claws were painted black, just as his mom did hers, but they were much more messy, like someone had done them in a rush. I hated the smell.

So it appeared that he approved, and that my killing of the terror bringer had relieved him of whatever senseless quarrel he had been involved in. I surveyed his basement room, ensuring that there was no more danger in sight. I spent the majority of the day in here, chasing strings of thread and crumples of paper, observing the world outside through small windows, and of course, sleeping. I tried to sleep as much as I could when he was gone, especially when his mom would wake up and stomp around.

Now, Jamie was here, and all was right. Except he still looked upset. I guess my kill wasn’t big enough, or maybe he thought some of its guts had gotten onto his shirt, because he furiously unbuttoned it while muttering bad words to himself, and put on a plain black t-shirt. I tried to show him that there wasn’t anything gross on the shirt by giving it a thorough sniff and then sitting on top of it, but Jamie shooed me away. He then sat on his bed, careful not to mess up the blankets, and pulled out his little metal and glass box, which made sounds when tapped on. It didn’t take long for me to jump up and sit on his lap; the safest place in the entire world.

As I lied down, a wave of sleep washed over me, and I gave a slow glance to the little glowing dots on Jamie’s ceiling that had been there since before the beginning of time, and I tried not to think about how sad he’d appeared, and how ferocious his mother had been toward him lately, and how there was no logic or sense to these fleshy big creatures that stood tall like Gods yet all just wanted a cat to pet and some food to eat. I tried not to think about how silly it all sounded, and how none of their arguments were ever about trying to survive, not really, it was all just about being right, and nothing ever really got done; I tried not to think yet still the thoughts came, until the wave had completely submerged me, and the thoughts turned to little monsters that I pawed at and hunted.

I awoke to that all too familiar growl. Jamie was gone, lured to his place of punishment. Left with no choice, I slowly crept up the stairs. The door was opened to the rest of the floor, he never leaves it open. As curious as I was to explore, a pang of uncertainty hit me. I recalled last time I had been up there. There were these empty glass things everywhere, and a sharp smell that hurt my nose lingered. The only upside was that door…The Big Door. It would open and close by the humans’ demands, revealing a whole other dimension of smells and beasts. I couldn’t remember the last time I breathed in those foreign sights.

Jamie’s mom had turned bitter, and each attempt that I made to weave myself through her legs or smell her face led to nothing but anger. But I had to go up, I had to make sure everything was okay, it was my duty.

The smell was extra strong tonight. Jamie’s mom was planted on her special chair, holding a cup of the toxin.

“No son of mine is going to dress like a faggot. And why the hell do you have that nail polish on? One of your friends at school do it, huh? Now I raised you to be-- to be a goddamn man! A man!” His mother said. Her words were harsh, yet slurred. I didn’t know what she was saying exactly, just that her eyes widened when she said it-- like a hunter. Did she mistake Jamie for a spider? Is she trying to kill him?

Jamie stayed silent. He let her destroy him. “You think your father is going to want to come back if he finds out you’re one of those--those gays? Do you think he’d be proud, Jamie?”

Silence. Defeat.

I crept up to him, craving his affection. His mother didn’t look twice at me. She kept drinking the gross smelling liquid, and with each gulp, her eyes drew heavier. Jamie eventually coaxed her into moving to her bed, despite the small protests. She fell asleep propped up with a few pillows, and Jamie left a big cup of water by her side. With a kiss on the forehead, we left her room, finally.

Jamie loved his mom, and in a way, I did too. Or at least I used to. I remember a very, very long time ago, probably a thousand years in the past, when she was kind to me. Back when the door to upstairs was never shut. She used to sit in her chair and flip through lots of paper that was stuck together, while I sat on her lap. I never understood why she did that, but it seemed like those papers had magical powers, because sometimes she’d laugh uncontrollably from looking at them, and sometimes there’d be little bits of water rolling down her face, and she’d stop looking at the papers and hold me extra tight. That was before, when she used to leave everyday like Jamie does now, when the house only smelled like poison on special occasions, and when she’d come downstairs every night to pet my fur and hug Jamie goodnight. Now, the big paper stacks slept silently on shelves, collecting stuff that makes you sneeze and rid of any magic.

I was thrilled when Jamie started making his way down the stairs, to our sanctuary. I appreciated the state of it, the small room with couches that greeted you as you took your final step to the bottom, and Jamie’s warm and neat room. It was all I needed. I knew that there was more to life, more to explore, outside the windows, in the other dimension, that I’d only smelled in bits and pieces, but I couldn’t leave Jamie.

When I entered his room, I jumped up onto his big wooden surface of papers and observed. He picked the crumpled shirt off the floor and carefully placed it in a bin with other clothes that smelled strongly of his scent, then faced me.

“I’m sorry Oliver. I don’t know what to do. I thought she wouldn’t notice my nails, or my shirt. She hardly notices anything anymore. Tonight was just really bad, she’s stressed out, she didn’t mean any of it. She’s only lost. I just wish that-” he lowered his head to mine, put both his hands on my cheeks, and said in a hushed tone, “I just wish that she’d find herself soon, because I really miss her.” He cleared his throat, gulping down whatever pain he had attempted to communicate.

I meowed in response, and tried to console him by nuzzling my head into his hand and offering my fur to stroke. It was going to be a long night. On poisonous nights like these, Jamie never slept well. Usually, I loved staying up and watching him snore, or checking in on him every once in awhile during my hunts to ensure he was still breathing, but tonight would be different. He’d spend most of it curled up in a ball, trying to imitate my sleeping position, with wheezy breaths and watery eyes. He’d call for me multiple times, flustered and scared. Of course, I’d always want to be there to comfort him, but sometimes I just couldn’t, and I’d pace back and forth from his room to the couches. He’d just be so scared, and I’d never understand it, because his mom would be fast asleep, and I was the one who handled the little beasts in the basement, so there wouldn’t be any immediate things that threatened his survival. Yet still, he’d wake up over and over again.

When the dark began to escape the windows, and as light had just yawned its way through, Jamie woke up for good. He began to put clothes on that smelled less of him and more of citrus, then picked up a small metal stick and suddenly, a red dot appeared in front of me. I was thrilled. Not only was I able to chase the dot wildly around, but it also meant that he wasn’t going to leave for the day. I ran for the dot as fast as I could, and was baffled that it possessed the ability to climb on the ceiling so effortlessly, and dart from place to place faster than my eyes could follow. It made me forget all about the horrible, anxious night I had had. Instead, I was able to focus, to clear my head with some chasing, and to be with Jamie.

As quickly as it had appeared, the dot vanished. Jamie went upstairs, and called for me to follow. Gingerly, I came with him. He took big black bags and started to pick up some of the wrappers, then put all the glass containers of poison in one area. His mom was still in her room, passed out. Jamie also took a bottle of equally gross smelling liquid and used it to rub off the black stuff on his claws. His movements were light, almost soundless. When I knew for sure his mom wasn’t going to storm out anytime soon, I found a little nook in the main room and lied down.

As Jamie moved things around, some of the rotting smells and clutter decreased. It felt like hours that he did this, and by the time he was finished, the light was just starting to fade. His mom was still asleep. I watched then as he opened the white cold box that contained food and let out a long sigh. Looking in the hiding places with food amounted to the same reaction. I wondered what was wrong, and why these compartments brought him such anxiousness.

Eventually, Jamie picked me up and we went downstairs. Being held brought me back to my younger days, when I was much smaller and everyone wanted to hold me. I didn’t love being picked up, but I sure didn’t mind it. As he placed me down softly on his bed, I could feel his nervousness. He then went up the stairs, and I heard The Big Door open and shut.

A while later, I heard his mother growling upstairs. It sounded like she was moving with bricks strapped to her feet. I tried to focus on the piece of fabric I had been chasing, as I swore it was alive and mocking me, until the door to the basement open.

“Jamie! What did you do with my goddamn keys?” She barked, and came stomping down the stairs. I halted my hunting, and jumped up to a windowsill for a safer vantage point.

Once entering Jamie’s room, the mean woman carelessly rifled through drawers and bins. Clothes were scattered across the floor, papers were put out of order, and his serene room soon became a warzone. When the damage was done, she returned upstairs, leaving the door open. I hoped Jamie knew where her Goddamn Keys were.

The Big Door opened… Jamie! I ran up the stairs and saw that he was carrying three white bags that contained many delicious smells. The Door remained open. His mom came out of her room and faced him, not smelling of poison, yet still spewing similar stomach churning sounds.

“Where’ve you been?” She asked.

“I walked to the grocery store to get us dinner, look.” He said, holding up the bags.

“Perfect. And what did you do with my keys? I’ve been looking for the past hour.”

“Mom, you don’t need to go anywhere, so it doesn’t matter.”

The Big Door was still wide open.

“But I do, Jamie. I need to go to the liquor store. Why won’t you let me enjoy a Saturday night?”

“You’re sick. I love you mom, but you don’t need that stuff, please. I spent the whole day cleaning, and bought one of those fresh rotisserie chickens for us to share with my lawn mowing money.. Let’s just sit down and enjoy it, okay?”

“I need my keys. And I didn’t ask you to do any of this, you’ve probably made it worse, now I won’t know where anything is. I won’t be able to find any of my things and I won’t be able to find a job. Look at what you’ve done! I’m not sick, you’re sick. You think you can fix everything by spending your savings on dinner? My keys, I need them.” She snarled, baring her teeth.

“No, mom. Please!”

“My... KEYS!” She screamed, her breaths becoming faster, eyes becoming bigger. Jamie shook his head.

Then, in one swift motion, that nasty woman wound up her fist and sent it straight to his face. Crunch. Blood dripped down his nose. He’s not a spider! He’s not a threat, why are you hunting him?

The Big Door remained open, and as much as I wanted to stay with Jamie, I had to listen to my instincts. I had to survive.