Chasing. Panic in my eyes, roaming the area looking for safety. Eyes that I once looked at for comfort became devilish with one idea in mind. My leg is bloody and riddled with scratches. I can’t feel the pain, numb because of the shock, but appalled by the amount of crimson blood. Household pets can become wild.
On most weekdays my parents work late and today was no different. I walk into the empty home with just my cat, her kitten and I. I look around the bare walls, closed doors, and the empty hallway, my heart ached a little for someone to fill the emptiness with their voice. I sit trying to do my last bit of homework and daydreaming some more at the cold, white walls. Almost in a trance, I wait still, waiting for something to happen, for someone to come home and turn the cold, white walls into a warm canvas of memories. After some time I look up, and it’s already six o’ clock. I ease out of my daze and realize I haven’t started my homework. I race to finish. With a growing hunger, I look to the fridge to see some cold rice and beans.
I warm a plate and hear a loud “shriek!” I panic and quickly assert my attention to the kitten paw under my foot. I look with wide eyes, trembling as I bend down to check if he’s alright, my heart grows heavy filling with guilt. As I play doctor, I hear the kitten’s mother running after me, paws scraping the floor. I stare in awe not knowing my next move, I use my instincts and run across the living room floor. Knocking down the glass vase on the coffee table, spilling marbles on the floor. I see my cat running after me with pupils the size of grapes, my heart pace beginning to quicken and my legs shaking in fear. She scratches at my legs, ruthless just to make her mark. I jump onto the couch, blood dripping down my leg, but she follows.
I stand there as my cat stares at me with an emotionless expression, blank. I make a run into the kitchen and jump onto the kitchen counter afraid of its stability, watching my cat hiss and scratch at the cabinet door beneath in a threatening manner. I cry for help not expecting an answer, I am now hyperventilating on the verge of what I feel a heart attack. I’m helpless, my palms grow sweaty and my heart pounding faster and faster. My thoughts interrupted when I hear keys jingling.
My brother walks into the living room, salt crunching beneath his feet, snow prints trailing on the carpet. I look up at him in begging eyes, pleading for his help. He looks up at me and down to my cat and says “fend for yourself, I’m tired.” I clenched my jaw, feeling the fear and betrayal bottle up, but I decide he is right. I step down from the counter, my feet hanging like bait for a fish to swallow me whole. I look down to what I once saw to be loving eyes become a beast trying to fend for her child. I let my hand down slowly, I focus on her eyes, I get closer to her head. My heart is racing, unsure of my fate. I watch her pupils contract and the warmth of her head rubbing against my hand. She smells me and immediately calms down.
The fear I once held onto so strongly, finally escapes me. I reach for the top of the fridge to get her treats, I watch the quivering frail being take the bait I have given her, and recognize how weak she is and how strong I am. She is as scared as I am. The thoughts run through me like a large meal slowly digesting, I nod in reassurance and take my warmed food out from the microwave. I became my own hero and faced my attacker. Now, I realize that I am my own hero, it can take only a small event to trigger the hero in you.