Kitten

• Alyssa Johnson, Grade 6, St Aloysius Primary School
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

“Get out and stay out!” The door slammed behind me and the ‘open’ sign was viciously turned over to ‘closed’ by a hand from behind the curtain. Sprawled on my back in the gutter, I took the time to inspect my various bruises and cuts inflicted by my, now former, employer. Crawling to my knees, I realised that the usually busy street was empty. Or so I thought.

Crouched in the gutter next to me was a ragged, dirty kitten. Picking up a stick, I prodded it gently to see if it was alive, and it meowed, resentful at being awakened from a long-earned sleep. It crawled to its feet and stumbled over, with still half asleep and aching from walking so far, so early in life. Reaching my legs it climbed up and trotted up my thighs to my belly, where it presently curled up and went back to sleep, content at last, and enjoying using my tummy as a heated cushion of comfort. Deciding, suddenly, on what to do with the kitten, I disturbed it once more from sleep, and after its cries of protest, bundled it up in my arms and ran.

Through tight, twisty alleyways and down the deserted main street to the calm sea front, I sprinted along the grainy sand down to the water. Going up to my knees in the cool water, I thrust the kitten under. Bringing it back up to air and running my hand through its fur, it realised what I was doing and relax. Thrusting it back under and bringing it back up to let the head above water I gently rubbed all the dirt and knots out of its fur. Looking to shore I spotted a bubble on the esplanade, so I waded in to shore and used the foot tap on the bubble to rinse the kitten again.

On this final rinse I realised that the kitten was actually plain white with electric blue eyes. Removing my cardigan, wrapped it around the kitten and started toweling it dry. Satisfied, I then placed the kitten in the pocket of my black serving apron. Poking its head a front paws out the top so it could see, I started walking back along the esplanade to the orphanage.

Carefully climbing the servicing access ladder, meant for tradies when they come to do work on the three story building but tradies couldn’t be afforded so the ladder was used by orphans with to enter or exit unnoticed, or hang off dangerously to clean the windows every third day.

Reaching her bed, a surprisingly cozy tin hut on the roof of the building, containing a thin mattress and two blankets. I had added a wooden chair and table, the chair collected from the council clean-up, along with two crates, which serve as a table. Once again removing my cardigan and arranging it on the table as a warm, small blanket I carefully placed the once again sleeping, clean, snowy-white kitten inside.