Cat's Magic

Intro

I’m not one to believe in fable fairytales. There’s no such thing as elves and magic. You won’t see fairies in your grandmother’s garden and you certainly won’t spot a mermaid in your local swimming pool. Putting your hopes into such things are for those locked away in asylums. Whoever heard of immortal creatures with extraordinary powers? No one, that’s who.

So I’m tired of my sister parading around in home-made costumes, pretending to be something that she’s not. Or constantly having to tell her, that “yeah, Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy exist, so leave out milk and cookies with your rotting tooth.”

I don’t know why I’m so opposed to what I can’t explain. I guess because it isn’t normal. Humans shouldn’t be able fly unless it’s on an airplane, and they shouldn’t be able to cast spells unless they’re some corny magician trying to get paid.

I don’t mean to be righteous with explaining the supernatural; things that are out of the norm for me, but can I honestly say that I believe half the crap that’s spewing from my mouth? Hm…I guess not. Because somewhere in the back of my mind….I kinda believe.

Chapter 1: Happy Horrible Birthday

It’s official. I hate my birthday. To be exact, February 22nd, the day I popped out of my mother at a hospital in Sacramento, California. Unfortunately I don’t live in the hustle and busy of the capital, but instead my family and I reside in the city of Villa Park. Sure it’s a big place, but it’s tiny population-wise. But it’s okay I guess since we’re surrounded by Orange, a neighboring city.

But whatever. Where I live has nothing to do with my birthday. I’m so depressed and angry all at the same time. I thought that my turning sixteen would be an okay year, but it’s as shitty as the previous one. It’s like I’m cursed or something. Sure, I accidentally broke a mirror in the bathroom, but that was only because my bratty sister squirted me with her damn water gun.

She’s such a pain at times, but I do adore her. So back to my crappy birthday. It all started when I woke up the following morning. How typical to say. Don’t all days begin with waking up? Well anyway, the first thing I do is prepare for school (e.g. brushing my teeth, getting dressed). That’s a task in itself when my sister constantly nags me and my parents are no help since they’re too busy with their own lives. My mother, Linda Smith-Hartfield is a pediatrician,

So after I’ve finished getting dressed, I have extra time to myself. I lock myself away in my room, sitting on my plush bed. Reaching for my teal T-mobile slider cell phone with the full keyboard, I see that I have one unread text message. I recognized the name that came with it. Brian Churchill. He was my one year boyfriend. We met in ninth grade.

Surely he would start off my birthday with good news. Oh, how wrong was I. Opening the text, I just couldn’t fathom what I was seeing.

It’s over, meg.

And that was it? Quizzically, I searched through my phone to see if there were other messages. Maybe Brian screwed up and didn’t mean what he actually said. Yeah, that’s right. I sighed heavily. Who was I kidding? My birthday was already falling apart. My boyfriend decides to dump me--and on my birthday of all times. I toss the phone elsewhere in anger.

Whatever. I wasn’t about to let that affect me. I still had the rest of my birthday to go. I wasn’t accepting another shitty year. No way. When I saw that it was time for me to leave, I grabbed my pink tote bag (I didn’t believe in back packs), and headed out.

I trotted downstairs, my sister scrambling to my side. To think that a young girl like my sister had a prankster side to her. She had the most shiniest brunette hair that was styled in a lovely curly ponytail that cascaded down her back. Small freckles adorned her face and she had the brightest of blue eyes.

I spotted my mother, emerging from the kitchen while trying her best to attach an ear to her right lobe.

“I’m working late again, so I won’t be home until midnight,” she told me. “I gave David the money to buy your cake.”

I nodded. I always get a cake and maybe a present every year for my birthday. I’m not like other girls that get extravagant parties, and I sure as hell won’t be having a Sweet 16.

One by one, my mother gave us kisses on the cheek. “Have a nice day at school.” She left the house, waving good-bye.

I grabbed my sister’s hand, departing from the house as well.

Since my mom always left for work so early, it was either my job or our friendly neighbor, David’s to bring my sister to her elementary school. He would usually pick her up afterwards. The walk to my sister’s school was brief and I waved my good-bye.

“Don’t forget, Phoebe! David’s picking you up today,” I reminded.

She only nodded her head, racing to be with her group of friends. I, myself strolled off to school, taking as many slow steps as possible. What I failed to mention about Villa Park high school; home of the Spartans, is that I seriously hate my school. But most of all, the people in it.

Stepping through the front door, I was already greeted by the stares and whispers of my fellow peers. I knew exactly what they were thinking. I’m known to my school as the “goth girl”. I don’t know where they evolved that from just because my dark hair is accentuated with purple streaks and I sport dark clothing. And sure, I don’t have any friends, but doesn’t everyone? They tell me I’m moody and never smile. The shitty part about those assumptions is that they’re all true. But I’m not really goth…just different.

So I grab a Coke from the drink machine (not a very good diet at 8 a.m.) and head to my locker. I start shoveling text books into my bag when I see them. My supposed-ex douche bag, who decides to dump me on my birthday, laughing it up with the Chelsea, head cheerleader.

I slam my locker shut in frustration. One might question why I’m not bawling my eyes out after I have my one year boyfriend dump me. Well I’m not like most girls…not in the least bit. I won’t shed tears for some guy that didn’t have the decency to break up with me in person, let alone on a day that wasn’t my birthday. So like I was saying, I’m more pissed than emotional. Time for some payback.

Never removing my eyes from them, I hadn’t known that all three of us were now face to face. Brian was surprised.

“Uh, Megan?”

“So this is who you dump me for?” I questioned.

Chelsea took a step towards me. “He sure did,” she confirmed.

Ignoring her, I asked Brian. “Why?”

He ran a hand through his ragged hair, sighing upward and then saying, “It just won’t work out between us. People are starting to talk.”

I frowned as hard as I could. “You didn’t care before.”

“Yeah…well…”

“So leave me and my boyfriend alone freak show,” Chelsea declared.

“Fine,” I said. “I hope you’re both happy!”

And then I splashed my drink in both of their faces, tossing the can at their feet. Chelsea shrieked like a banshee and Brian just stood there, dumbfounded. I stomped away from the both of them. Slumping into my seat in first period, folding my arms over my chest.

That stupid jerk. I can’t believe I ever fell for him. And what the hell does he mean by ‘people are starting to talk’?

I started muttering incoherent words, drawing the attention of a few of my classmates and my teacher. He cleared his throat.

“Miss Hartfield, would you please join the rest of the class and open your textbook?”

I blushed beet red, noticing the stares that everyone was giving me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

I fished inside my pink flower printed bag for my Physical Science book. Once retrieving it, something else fell out along with it. It was square and wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a red ribbon tied around it. I picked it up, opening the small card that was attached to it. It was from my mom. She must have slipped it in my bag the night before.

I read the card. I know how much you love to read, so here’s something from me to you.

At least my birthday was turning around. I put it away, saving it for a chance when I had the free time to open it. For the remainder of the period I focused myself on class. To be the most weirdest girl in my school, I was pretty smart. I wasn’t dumb in the least bit, unlike my dick head of peers, who constantly berated me.

I was finally given the free time that I needed to open my mother’s gift. I sat at a secluded table during lunch. Tearing apart the paper, I felt the hard texture of the thick book. Quizzically, I stared at the cover. It was an auburn color. The edges were decorated in a dark mustard yellow. In the center was the close up image of a reptile’s narrow-slit iris. It reflected a distinct portrait of an aged dragon. The book was torn in several places.

“A used Dungeons and Dragons book,” I muttered sarcastically. “Thanks, Mom.”

Peeling back the cover, I heard the cracking of the book’s spine. Dusted wafted into the air. The book also gave off an unpleasant odor. Flipping through pages, I saw strange images and lettering that was nowhere near the English language, but somehow I could almost understand what I was looking at.

With each turn of crinkled paper, I was drawn just a bit further into a book that was nothing like an everyday novel. My eyes suddenly hazed over. I had no control. The authentic yet odd lettering made my head dizzy and distorted images passed through my head, only increasing the faint feeling I was beginning to have.

Ring!

The shrill sound of the bell made me instantly close the book. Shaking my head, I had a cool layer of perspiration damp my brow. What the hell just happened? I saw students exiting the large a cafeteria, heading for their next class. Wiping my face of any stray sweat, I shoved the book into my bag, making my departure as well.

-----

School couldn’t have ended any sooner and to top of another eventful highlight of my birthday; it starts fucking raining cats and dogs. Sure I had my umbrella, but it was pouring. There was no chance in hell that my mom could come and get me. David was also out of the question since he was probably about to leave my house. He knew the time I got home, so he could go and I’d be right on time to watch over Phoebe.

Great. So now I’m forced to walk home. Oh, what a pleasant day.

I popped open my blue umbrella, joining other students in the down pour. I saw Brian escorting Chelsea to the passenger seat of this car. I turned away from them, heading home.

Whatever. I thought. They can have each other.

One would think that with the way my birthday is, I would be upset. Well, not really. Every year it’s the same. I wake up to the day that I was born only to have it ruined by something stupid happening like a group of neighborhood punks throwing rocks at me in my new clothes or my mom forgetting my birthday cake because she was too preoccupied.

I’m never expected for once to have a half-way decent birthday. But for once I wish that I did.

Meow.

I stopped mid-step. Was that a cat? Was a feline doing out here in the rain. I thought cats hated water.

When I didn’t hear anything else, I continued forward, wanting to get home as fast as possible. But then it stopped me again. I looked over to a stack of trash cans and old furniture that someone had left lying on the side of the road for the sanitation department to pick up.

At first it was a tip of the ear that came into view and then the full head of the cat. Of all colors it was black. I saw that it had no collar so it must be a stray. It inched away from the trash can, heavy drops of rain pummeling its small head.

“What are you doing, you crazy cat,” I said, taking cautious steps towards it so that way it wouldn’t’ be frightened of me. “You’re gonna get wet.”

It meowed again, swishing its tail lazily. Kneeling down, I vigilantly stretched my hand out towards it, petting its damp fur. Okay, even though I may appear as not-so-caring person, I actually have a weak spot for cats. And besides it would compliment my image. I always beg my mom for one put she insists that they shed too much fur, and that Phoebe could possibly have allergies to them.

The small creature, brushed itself against my hand and up to my arm. This cat was too precious to just leave out in the rain. My mother won’t know unless she finds out. Scooping it up into my arms, it sneezed and shivered. Skillfully I was still able to keep the rain off of us until I finally reached home.

Opening the front door, I left the wet umbrella outside. I walked into the kitchen to find something edible that my cat friend could munch on, but all I saw was single slice of my birthday cake. Geez, how much did they eat? Well at least my mom didn’t forget this year. I continued searching until I came across a can of tuna in the fridge. I opened it with the can opener, and then retreated upstairs to my room but not before Phoebe stopped me.

“Megan?”

I stopped mid-step. “Yeah.”

“Can you help me with my homework?” she asked.

“Um…in just a minute. I need to change my clothes,” I told her. “I did just come home.”

“Hmm….okay. Well…can I have your last piece of cake?”

“Go ahead,” I muttered, continuing up the steps and into my room.

I dropped my bag to the floor. Opening my jacket, the cat immediately sprang from inside, landing onto my bed and shaking out its wet fur.

“No, no! Don’t do that!” I reached for it, but it lunged onto my dresser.

It silently began licking itself. Since it was preoccupied with itself, I went to my closet finding a pair of pants and a t-shirt. I changed right there in my room, and it felt as if something or someone was watching me. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I couldn’t shake off that feeling. I absently shrugged. Whatever. I brought my clothes down the laundry room and then returned back upstairs.

I placed the can of tuna on the floor and the black feline was quick to gorge on artificial seafood. I pet it absentmindedly, and was given the soft lullaby of its purring.

Okay so maybe my birthday wasn’t as horrible as I thought. Maybe for once, this is what I wanted to happen. I crawled onto my bed, snuggling close to the pillow, the black cat taking the opportunity to cuddle right next time. Closing my eyes, I heard the steady purring of the ebony feline and the rhythmic pattern of the rain on my window.