Becca: Astronaut
Sarah: (=_=’’)
Becca: What? It’s from the Bob Dylan movie.
Sarah: Right… okay, so here goes! Bika-Seewah, out! Lavi-Cat, in!
Cat’s POV
If there was anything to be glad for, it was that the next morning was Saturday and I would thus not have to face the humiliation of not showing up at the party until Monday. Of course, there were certain grievous losses (speaking principally of the missed opportunity to speak with Lee Kim. Oh, the agony!), but then again I don’t suppose that being which tyrannically dictates the lives of humans living in this house would care much. Excuse me; I misspoke there, as there is only ONE actual human in this godforsaken abode.
But, I am an optimistic, very forgiving person, and instead of dwelling on this horrible wrong done upon my totally faultless and victimized person, I instead curled in my bed and appreciated the morning sun beams softly lighting my pink sheets and warming them pleasantly in this Artic circle of a house. I dug my claws into the pink warmth to bring feeling back into my black velvety paws.
I inhaled and let out a purr in appreciation of the Great Re.
My mind remained blank for a while as reality slowly caught up with me.
Did I just say black velvety paws?!
I leapt out of bed. On all fours.
Lavi’s POV
I drowned my Wheaties in Vahn’s cheapest soy milk and submerged the survivors with my spoon. I scratched the side of my foot with the chair’s leg and watched my most important meal of the day slowly reach my preferred level of soggy. After a satisfying amount of time, I edged into shoveling position. As I was about to grasp the tulip-shaped hilt of my spoon, a Cat-caused commotion on the second floor interrupted my Zen. I retaliated with a frown in its general direction before proceeding with the morning rituals. A few bites in and half the cereal box read—
“MEEEEEEEAAAAAAAOOOWWWWW!”
Aunt Carmen rushed in from the backyard with a basket of wildflowers under one arm and her head cocked to the side.
“Oh, my,” she smiled, marveling at the continuing deranged mewl from the second floor. Somewhere, the feline bearer of good tidings was beginning to knock over the hallway’s furniture. I resumed my cereal consumption.
Cat’s POV
I stopped myself from fainting as I landed. Oh my God. Everything’s huge. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Such and so forth were my thoughts. I was, of course, freaking out at the fact that the bed, doorway, chair, desk, and lamp towered above me. Furthermore, I landed on all fours and was now crouched on the rug, my claws scratched the floor underneath, and my black tail was straight as a stick with fear.
MY TAIL?!? I started hyperventilating, but tried to reason myself out of it. No Cat, this is just a dream. A really weird realistic dream. That’s all! I started to calm down. That’s right. Now see, you’re going to climb back into that bed of yours, go back into the state of deep sleep and when you wake up, you’ll just laugh it all off! That’s right… back to bed… back to be—
My consciousness came to the sudden realization that I was one foot tall and the bed was three feet above me. Cat-dream I may be having, but I didn’t have any idea how to get up to my bed. My eyes raced for the stool I usually have at the foot of the bed, but I kicked it into the hallway (you could see it through the half open doorway) in my fury last night.
That’s okay too. This is a dream! I’m a cat! I can just… jump up there! Yeah! Cuz that’s what cats do! Okay… I can do this… on the count of three…
I went into the position I remembered the cats downstairs assumed before taking a big leap.
ONE… TWO… THREE!
Focusing all my energy on my hind legs (how weird to be calling them that!), I sprang forward and flew into the air. Yes! I was going to make it! Yes!
But no. I made it to the edge of the bed. Where my blankets lay crumpled. I struggled for my dear kitty life to stay on top of the bed, but to no avail. In attempt to slow (and preferably stop) the slip, I reached for something to grab onto, but finding none, I only accomplished in hastening my fall. Some hidden reflex took action and my claws dug into the mattress as gravity dragged me down. I howled in pain as I dangled and instinctively retracted my claws—thus resuming my fall. This time, I didn’t land on my feet. Set into a panic by the pain, I sprang out of the room, across the hallway, to the stairs, and not realizing that I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was even going, continued to run in my frenzied state down the stairs.
Lavi once told me that the only way you could fall down a flight of stairs was if you naturally clumsy, your shoelaces were untied, and you didn’t know which way was up or down. I will, right here and now, refute any claims that I am clumsy—I, Catherine Augustine Tiber, at fifteen years old, am the most elegant teenage girl on the face of Northern California. However, having never tread the paths of the world on more feet than two, I was not at my best that morning. As to the second requirement stated by actress: one) I sleep at night barefoot, and two) of course I didn’t have shoes in this dream, I was a cat for Pete’s sake! Lastly, anyone of a reasonable amount of sound logic should be able to understand that even I, with my vast treasury of intelligence and ability to assess situations coolly, would be in such a state of shock at having “woken” as a cat that I would temporarily suspend logic and sense of direction.
I fell down the stairs.
My tumble ended with a smack into the full length mirror attached to the wall. Shaking my head, I stared at it. Staring back at me was a cat with its ears laid back against its head. Its fur was as charcoal black as my hair, and its eyes were the same golden amber as my own. I scooted to the left. The cat followed me. I froze. It froze too. I scooted the right. The cat followed me again. This time, I didn’t freeze but instead bolted away from the mirror.
I ran around the kitchen for a while in circles. This dream! It’s too realistic! Why aren’t I waking up! I already fell, right? Usually, when you’re falling, you wake up before you actually hit the ground, right? Why am I actually feeling pain? What? What’s happening? What’s happening?
I continued to run in circles until I heard Lavi mutter “Stupid cat” from the table. I looked up to find her eating Wheaties just like she does every Saturday morning. Not realizing that she was speaking with a lowercase C, I called back. “Lavi!”
She didn’t reply.
“What’s wrong with you? I know you can hear me! Lavi! Laviiiiiiii!”
Still nothing. Just what’s going on? Is the whole world in a conspiracy against me or something? This is no time for Lavi to be her usual uncaring selfish creepy self! Even if I was dreaming, surely she crept into this dream using her ghostly witch-doctor powers and was keeping me captive here!
“Lavender Beatrice Tiber! Look at me!”
STILL she refused to acknowledge my presence! The nerve of her!
I searched for a way to get to the table top and speak to her face to face, since she refused to face me herself. However, all the chairs were pushed under the table, according to Lavi’s occasional OCD tendencies. I resolved to attempt jumping up there. The other cats on the table were able to do it, why not me?
I really don’t know why I do this to myself.
A scene similar to the earlier described (with the bed) played out. I dangled over the side of the table, arms scrambling for something to hold onto, although should I have found something to stop my fall, it wouldn’t have made a difference since I no longer possessed opposable thumbs. I called for Lavi to help me out, but of course she did nothing except stare at me like I was crazy. I was about to give up hope and let gravity have its way for the second time this morning when thankfully Aunt Carmen appeared from the fourth dimension, picked me up, and kissed me on the nose.
“Aunt Carmen!”
“Good morning, Cat!”
I glared back at Lavi. “See! I knew I wasn’t crazy! You just try ignoring me in my own dream! I know you can hear me! La—“
I stopped when Aunt Carmen started scratching me underneath my chin. “That’s such a good kitty! Quiet now, Lavi likes silence with her Wheaties.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Did she just call me kitty and scratch me under my chin? But didn’t just recognize me as Cat earlier--
It took me two seconds to realize she was speaking with a lowercase C. Either that or she was crazy. The latter was more probable. It fit theory I’ve been formulating these last fifteen years.
My next thought after pondering the vastness of my aunt’s universe was: How come you only like Lavi?!!?
I attempted to voice my discontent, but to no avail. Aunt Carmen let me down in the sink and carried on.
“Lavi, the full moon is in three weeks!”
Lavi grunted, slightly annoyed at being interrupted as she read the cereal box. As though she hasn’t read it every Saturday morning. “Yeah. It’ll really light up the FallFest Carnival, huh?”
Aunt Carmen, who was nibbling on the toast Lavi for left for her, suddenly crunched it into her balled fists and gasped with excitement, as though experiencing an epiphany. “The Gypsies!” she whispered.
Lavi looked up from her cereal box. “They’ll be here this time, huh?”
Aunt Carmen twirled across the kitchen, ballerina-style. “We must prepare a welcome! Gypsies on a full moon Hallow’s Eve! A very special occasion!” She stopped drifting to the next dimension in the middle of her next twirl. “But what to do? Not a turtle shell nor stained glass bell! I wouldn’t, if I were you!” she cried, pointing back at Lavi and me. She might have just been pointing in our general direction, though. I am never able to tell whether she is speaking to me or to some ghost friend of hers behind me. “Wouldn’t do, wouldn’t do, not on a full moon Hallow’s Eve! On the tails of our friends come their shadows, and without those they won’t leave!”
Lavi nodded. “Want me to drop you off at Mystie’s Souvenir shop on my way to Vahn’s?”
Aunt Carmen nodded emphatically. “At once, darling! Darling, at once! We must prepare! And prepare we must!”
Lavi stared at her cock-sided. “Three weeks in advance?”
Aunt Carmen smiled, rushed up to Lavi and cooed her nose. “Lavender, such things must be anticipated! Imagine! The Gypsies!” she giggled.
Lavi shook her head. “Okay, wait for me in the car. I’ll just clean up here.”
Aunt Carmen leapt in the air and did a three-sixty. Really, I think she needs some help. Professional help.
“Goodbye, cats! Carmen departs! Await my return!” she called before exiting the front door. Without even a coat.
“Aunt Carmen!” my sister called after her. Seeing that calling after hat it was hopeless, Lavi rushed to put her bowl in the sink and run after her.
You may remember, however, that Aunt Carmen placed me in the sink after scratching my chin. Revolted that Lavi could have forgotten me after so rudely ignoring me, I screeched “WATCH IT, SISTER!” and shot her a venomous glare. She returned the glare with equal, if not greater, evil intent, grabbed me like a ragdoll and dropped me on the kitchen floor.
“Now scat.”
I sat there, astounded. Did she just tell me to scat? What kind of dream was this anyway? I’ve even once dreamed about Lavi and Aunt Carmen making plans for their weird bonfire dancing, much less in the form of a cat! And the whole time they ignore me! I was about to ask Lavi when she nearly kicked me, so I scrambled out of the way. She stepped on my tail.
“LLLAVVIIII!”
She looked down. “Woops. Sorry.”
“You do not look sorry!”
She wasn’t even paying attention anymore. Grabbing two wind-breakers (how unfashionable!) and her keys, she quickly rushed for the door. I trotted after her, but—she slammed the door in my face.
Alone in the house I was simultaneously becoming painfully aware of three things. In order of the amount of fear inflicted by them: Lavi and Aunt Carmen only ever addressed me using common nouns (something less than peculiar for Lavi but not for Aunt Carmen). Next, that this might not be a dream. Lastly and most traumatizing of them all:
I was starting to hear voices.
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