The shift had run late into dusk, and I ran home for dinner. Dark, overcasting shadows covered the street with a few to none flickering spotlights with its unnatural light. I blinked and saw something blocking my path. It’s small and unnoticeable in the dim light, but I know it’s there. Its head turns, and huge yellow eyes like disks of sunset beam at me with pain. I pick up the black ball, a purr emitting from deep within its throat as it rubs against my chin and flicks its stubby tail against my fingers. Poor thing is probably abandoned, Cruel owners nowadays. Finding its owner seems like my last priority, but I can’t just leave it. I’ll take it home and look in the morning – we’ll have something for it to eat.
I pat a cushion, fluffy and untouched near the fireplace, and curl up myself on the couch. The light flickers as my vision fades, and the last thing I feel is claws kneading my back as it tears through the checkered red blanket that covers me.
Kennedy Bausum, Bennington
Age 13