To the cat I did not know, i will never know. I do not know why I cried, well I cry very easily, a little too easily. Once I tear up, I can not stop. It was like any other night, just driving back from one of my families many outings, when we turned a corner onto a very busy street. It was dark and the only light emitting the darkness were the traffic lights. I stared off into nothingness as I usually do when I think. I did not see the tiny frame of a calico cat until it was too late. "Is that a cat?" "Oh my god!" Then it was over. The screaming I heard did not seem to be my own. Yet I couldn't for some reason close my mouth. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, my eyes as big as the cats before it... well I shall not talk of that dreaded moment, the most horrible I have had in my 13 short years. I should talk, because as I hear, talking cures the soul. I was a mess. My crying turned into screaming as i replayed the image in my head. Watching the cat made me realize that usually people do not cry. When my own dog dies I did not have a screaming fit. I merely took it in as it was said. I feel that seeing the incident makes it so much worse. I actually thought for a split second that the cat had a chance. It was a coward as I watched helplessly from the car. it ran into the street and then back again. Cars stopped as they waited for the cat to either run away afraid or to be a brave buckaroo. Stupid cat was a brave buckaroo and darted. Not quick enough. One car... thud, never stopped. The cat was stuck to the ground, squirming, panicked and then went still. My screaming got louder. Then another car, thud. The cat was no longer a cat. My screaming got even louder, and I swear my tears could make the ocean look like a fool. I cried for the cat I did not know. I will never know.
October 4, 2011