Kitten In The Cold

• Leanne Chiou, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

I huddled in the smallest corner of the house, away from all the racket going on around me, although I was the centre of attention. “Mum, just…just get the cat out,” Jane Smith said irritatingly, “I don’t like it anymore.” “Meoww…” I pleaded. That only earned me a deathly stare from the most spoilt, only child in the family. I can’t believe it! She used to like me! When Jane was little, she used to stroke my head and wrap me up to keep me warm, but now it’s like I’m the entire reason why she’s failed her subjects and dropped out of high school. Jane stomped to the door and shoved it open. “Dad!” Jane ordered, “Hold the door open! I need both hands free!” “And mum,” Jane demanded, “Move! You’re in my way!” Mr Smith obediently hurried to open the door and Mrs Smith quickly followed her daughter’s instructions by moving out of the way, not wanting to get yelled at again. Her arms reached towards me and then suddenly I felt choked by her strong grip on my neck. My feet were yanked off the floor and Jane Smith flung me out the door way. All I saw was a blur of distorted people as I flew through the air and splattered face first in a fresh heap of crisp, cold snow as a taste of freezing ice entered my mouth. Before I knew it, a cold breeze swept above my head as the door slammed shut behind me. The cold made my legs and paws numb, but eventually I made it out the gate. Slowly, I made my way out of the neighbourhood and cautiously entered the busy and noisy street, not wanting to get trod on by some humans. I plodded carefully on the side of the street and occasionally tripped over someone’s feet. Everyone was dressed in jackets and coats, boots, beanies and thick scarves, and the ones who didn’t like me kicked me out of their way or pushed me in the snow. I got up and limped the rest of the way until I reached a corner, which led into a dark alleyway. The smell was different now. It smelled like damp, soggy rubbish and rotten food that had been sitting there for days. It was slightly warmer in the alleyway, but very unpleasant. I sat on a wet cardboard box and started eating a half-frozen, half-rotten apple, but didn’t finish it as I was too tired, and rested my head to sleep. When I woke the next morning, I found myself in a different place, next to a fireplace. The house was warm, and dishes of proper food and water was placed in front of me. I lay on a soft cushion and a kind-looking grandma calmly hobbled over to me and gently stroked my head. I purred, softly. “I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow,” she said quietly and smiled. But I closed my eyes and fell asleep for the last time.