My heart of a phoenix lurches as I rise from the pavement,
Adrenaline forcing my limbs into a war crawl toward the ditch.
Despite your wishes,
I thrash against the grass as I try to dive away.
Danger only finds me because of your scent.
Blood pools through my claws, mixing with the dirt.
How can I get past the man who wishes me gone?
Life trials my nine sacrificial lives once more.
Months before the carpet-coiled dog chased me into the street,
I refused to trust the humans.
They were giantesses, skyscrapers to me.
Hungry and unloved, my senses led me to another cat.
Well-fed and with her own house, she was close to the humans.
These humans served her as slaves; they were obviously her humans.
What a life that domestic cat lived, but a life that wasn’t mine.
She spat venom at me whenever I pawed my way to her shelter.
I knew I was safe, but I still smelt the humans’ lingering scent.
The humans called her Joan, and she loved her name.
Joan distrusted me because I was a stray that appeared out of nowhere,
But she was kind enough to leave me her leftovers once in a blue moon.
The humans caged a bear that barked from behind the fence,
And I’d steal its food whenever they allowed the drooling creature into the sanctuary.
That’s how I lost my safety—when the first human spotted me.
I heard the barrier open at a quiet screech, and I bolted away.
I was afraid that these humans would hurt me like my family did in the past.
After all, my family left me on the streets—starving.
I hid under their mini house, that one of the older and grumpy humans worked in.
After hours passed, I crept to the backdoor where the beast’s food lay.
More food waited in the bowl and clean water, too!
Joan must have skipped dinner, because humans aren’t kind, right?
Days turned into weeks of more food and water for me to consume eagerly.
Joan always side-eyed me, but she’d let me eat first.
She tried teaching me her ways to cross the road safely,
Although I never understood the sounds of passing cars.
I only knew how to run away.
From a distance, I watched the humans pet Joan with what seemed to be love,
And Joan allowed it.
Then, their eyes found me, and the human called out to me, “Hey Kitty, I won’t hurt you.”
Air sped through my coat as I scrambled across the street, into the woods.
That human surely was lying!
Joan was being held at paw point by the grimy human’s hands, but Joan wasn’t afraid.
Those tall beings took care of her and gave her a place to live.
I heard meows from the inside too—were they being held hostage?
Joan didn’t like the meows and said they hadn’t stopped meowing since she birthed them.
Maybe I shouldn’t be afraid either.
The human never gave up, which was annoying.
She would put our food down and stare at me.
Her mouth always pointed upward when speaking to us but never in a cruel way.
The smaller human and older woman started paying attention to my presence, even if I darted away.
The older male human didn’t care if I existed, which I preferred.
Humans seemed complex, but the beast was simple: if it moved, chase it.
That evening, Joan was nowhere to be seen, and the caring humans were gone.
The beast was out in the front yard where I ate now,
Only I didn’t see her until it was too late.
Her curls unfurled and bounced at the sight of me—that’s when I knew I was in danger.
Joan’s lessons in street crossing left my mind, so flight was my only option.
I was never as brave as her.
One of the loud noises grew deafening as I fell onto the asphalt.
My mind only processed Joan’s lesson then: If you hear noise—do not cross.
And I had broken that rule.
Other humans—one familiar, the others strangers—gathered on the side of the road with long sticks,
That’s when the panic settled in.
They were coming after me, and I couldn’t move.
With all my might, I stood and ran into the tunnel underneath the driveway.
Tires crossed over my hiding spot, and then I heard the human’s voice.
She was afraid, like I was, though I didn’t understand why.
Our eyes met from where I lay, and she smiled at me before I closed my eyes for the last time.
Elyssa Latham (she/her) is a woman of words, and reader. Elyssa’s works express strong emotions that people go through and get the reader to feel those emotions alongside her. She wants readers to take away that it is okay to allow yourself to feel and that you can craft art out of pain.
Featured image by Tatyana Rubleva on Unsplash.
