Ugly

BANG,
The last poster’s up, that’ll do it. Seventy posters, my plan is going to work, I want him here so bad, I just need someone to find the little guy.
***
At my house I sit the staple gun on my bed and dream of having Ugly in my arms. Ugly’s my streets daggy old tomcat. They call him Ugly because of his half ear, stumpy tail and different coloured eyes, (It’s really off putting), but Ugly’s kind, loving and joyful no matter what people think of him. I want him to be mine, Mum will never let me keep him, she says he’s full of fleas. But that’s not what I think, he needs someone to love him, I can do that.

When I have a bad day I sit in my room with the window open, Ugly climbs up the old gumtree onto the branch outside, and jumps through. I really like it. He’s really comforting. I always have to shoo him out though, because mum wouldn’t like it if she knew he was in my room. He curls up in a ball with my fluffy blanket. Mum would hate that.

“Charlie did you put posters up for Pretty, I don’t like having him in the cold tonight?”
“Yep…”

I put up the posters but…
Suddenly we hear a weird sound coming from upstairs, scratching?
“What’s that?” mum demands.
“Umm, I dunno, probably just the pipes…I’ll go check…”
I sprint away, swing open my wardrobe door and stop the noise, I can’t let mum know what I’m doing. If she knew I’d be in trouble…
Ok, so Pretty is missing that’s ok. Earlier I printed pictures of the cat and put them everywhere, power poles, notice boards even in the supermarket. Everyone’s looking for that cat and someone will find him…
***
I hear noises from under my bed, I pick up the box.
“Sssshhhhh” I say calmly,
“Charlie where’s your washing?”
I quickly place the box on the ground, kick it under the bed, and pick up a pile of dirty clothes. They’re strangely heavy, (probably my soccer gear). I hand mum the clothes. That was close, mum almost saw the box. But everything is going well.


In the laundry I hand mum my socks.
“There’s that noise, it’s coming from here, what is it?”
Mum exclaimed.
I run up the stairs worried that mum would find out what I’ve been doing, but the box hasn’t moved?
I walk back down into the laundry and see mum holding Ugly in her arms,
“I’m sorry, I almost turned the washing machine on and drowned him!” Mum whimpered.
“You nearly KILLED him!”
“I’m sorry.” Mum cried.
The soggy, ugly tomcat stared at mum.
“He really is cute.”
I clutch Ugly in my arms and carefully walk up the stairs, open the box from under my bed and pick up the other purring moggy.
I’m keeping Ugly for now, but at dinner mum will decide if we can keep him.
***
I rock my chair back and forwards, staring at my food nervously, waiting for an answer.
“I’m really sorry, the only thing I can give you as an apology is him.” Mum states.
Yes, my plan worked.
I dash upstairs and sit on the sofa with my two cats, Pretty and Ugly.


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