A cats tale

• Larissa Dyson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2006

Jodie is snoring loudly. Then, lightning causes her bedroom light to go out. Jodie awoke as though the sudden darkness was an alarm, hearing the scratching of branches against the window, she opened it.
Jodie felt her way around the room touching her desk, her chair, she screamed as something flew through the window. It slammed into her and she fell to the floor.
Long, sharp nails scratched her. She stared into glowing green eyes, she screamed again. Suddenly the power came back. The light worked again. It was a small, wet, shaking, black cat.
Jodie petted it. The storm had stopped. The air was filled with a fresh mist. “I’ll call you misty” she said. “Don’t worry, Mum will let me keep you.”
Misty spent the night curled up at the foot of Jodie’s bed. Jodie’s mum said that they could keep Misty. She gave misty some tuna. For some reason, Jodie felt like having tuna too.
Later, Jodie left Misty at home and went to the local pool. When she got there, Jodie headed straight to the high diving board. She looked down. Suddenly she didn’t feel like diving.
Misty brushed up against her leg and scratched it. Before Jodie got the chance to think how Misty got there, she lost her balance, tumbled into the water and thrashed her arms s and legs as cold water poured into her mouth and nose.
Jodie was a very good swimmer, but she couldn’t swim. Everything went black. Jodie woke up in her bed with her mum standing beside her, looking anxious.
A restless night followed. Jodie kept hearing a creepy chant. “Nine lives, nine lives, I’ll have her body before I’ve lived my nine, her life is mine.”
Soon Jodie was awoken by the scream of her mother “MOUSE!” her mum jumped onto Jodie’s bed. Jodie crouched down and pounced. “GOTCHA” she yelled.
“Why’d you do that?” mum asked “You hate mice.” Then it clicked. “Her life is mine” Now Jodie knew why she has a sudden craving for tuna and why Misty tried to drown her. Misty was taking over Jodie’s life.
Jodie needed a plan to kill Misty. She grabbed the Misty, put her in a cage, locked it and rode her bike to the RSPCA. On the way, Jodie stopped at a vending machine. Jodie put the cage down, dropped $2 into it, and heard a deafening SCREECH of car breaks.
Jodie spun around to see a big yellow truck. The driver hopped out, his face red. “Was that your cat?” He asked. Jodie’s heart was pounding as she ran over. “I didn’t see her until it was too late. I’m so sorry, why’d you let her walk in the street?” Jodie couldn’t speak. How Misty escaped from the locked cage, Jodie didn’t care. Misty was dead.
That night, Jodie shivered when she heard the chant: “Eight lives, eight lives,I’ll have her body before I’ve lived my nine, her life is mine.”