Sara Angela Rodriguez
A415-002/Chambers
Fiction Piece #2
1/31/2013
What I was originally trying to do with this piece is write a happy story about a kitten and his best friend, this little red head girl named Lily (who somehow ended up being April). I was going to model the relationship between my two characters after the relationship between Rebecca Lizard and her lover, Hilda--comical yet heartwarming yet destructive--but somehow it ended up being this sad story about a kitten who meets its prospective owner. This is an unfinished piece. I have a perfect ending for it, I think. But for right now it will stay as is.
Word Count: 680
Pachada
She reached her arms out to me as she shuffled closer to
the bush that, in the last couple of days, I had resigned myself to call
home. Her red knees hit against her chin
as she hopped closer to my hiding spot. I can remember her two little pig tails
bouncing up and down with each scoochy springy step forward. Left, Right, Left,
Right. Step by step she made her way towards me—her two muddy Sketchers leaving
trails resembling a mucky yucky slushy slug. I could see her sticky little fingers, covered
in chunky peanut butter and strawberry jelly. I could see her boogery little
face: her big sad periwinkle eyes outlined by a million bistre freckles, her
upturned nose, and buck toothed smile with the awkward little gaps. She wasn’t,
and still isn’t, the prettiest child in the world. But, she is mine. Rather, I
am hers.
It took her no time to take me in though I resisted. I
scratched and bit and howled and scratched some more, but she didn’t put me
down. I regret doing that now. Her scars haven’t faded. She didn’t care how
much I resisted, she loved me. I thought that was naïve. How could she love
someone she had just met? Someone she had, literally, picked up off of the
street? I didn’t know at the time that no one loved her. I didn’t know that she
loved me with all the love she wished she had.
She ran through the park, into the streets, and past many
big buildings. I gave up resisting and instead just peeked my head through her porcelain
arms. I wondered how long she would hold out. Her breathe was already fading.
As we ran from one street light to another I could see her cheeks puff out like
bull frogs and her face as grey as an apple. I told myself that I would wait
until she collapsed, until her tired little body would hunch over and die. I
was sick. Correction, I still am. She
ran and ran, tripped and fell. I was hoping that she would loosen her hold on
me as she tried to catch herself but she just leaned into the fall protecting
me with her body. That was when I decided I would ride this out….whatever this
was.
We came to a big, what looked like abandoned, house.We ran
through the door. I could hear a man’s scruffy voice call out “April” as we
zipped upstairs. She placed me gently onto her bed and covered me with the
warmest blanket I had ever felt. Actually, it was the only blanket I had ever
felt. She left me there as she frantically excavated through her closet. She
found a long rectangular box, dumped its contents onto her peeling floor,
reached for a towel, stuffed it into the box, and presented it to me. I was
disgusted at the thought of sleeping in a box that had been full of filth.
Little did I know that it was not filth that she kept in the box. It was treasure.
She claimed that this box had always, and would always, keep her treasures. To this day it does.
I…I…can never find someone that will suite me as well as
she did. I can’t go on without her. She was mine. I was hers. April. What an
amazing name, perfectly suited for such an amazing person. She shouldn’t have
gone down stairs that night when that man called her down. She should have
stayed with me. Now she’s gone. We hadn’t even been together for a day when he
took her away.
April. It might be naïve, but I fell in love with you.
Pachada you called me. Puh-Cha-Duh. You said it meant great, magnificent, and
wonderful. Your teacher told you that. I think that you should have been named
Pachada instead. You thought I would be your salvation. But, you were mine.
April. Thank you for showing this little kitty that the
world isn’t as bad as he thought it was.
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