A Break

This is me. User. Author. Writer. Whatever.
I've decided that the story of Kaiten the cat is over and done with; I simply can't think of any more that holds to her satiric finess when expressing herself. So I transition.
I give you the place where I will from now on play with concepts and ideas that strike my fancy in the way of storylines.
Thanks for reading.

Nine: My Return

Possibly the only issue on which humans have a correct understanding is that all other life forms on this planet are, at one point or another, striving to escape their custody. They do give up eventually, but attemps at freedom, whether initially or ultimately, can be expected to occur. Why? Human capture, or even interaction, is the single most undesirable experience known to all animals. Well, all animals in their right minds. Disease-carrying squirrels that start black plagues don't exactly share the aversion to little girls that us cats possess.
So when I returned to Sea Eyes after my little outing, I wasn't surprised to find her in tears, under the impression that I had run away. Of course, when she spotted me, she couldn't resist her instincual urge to strangle me via "hug". This time sharp, pointy force was necessary to obtain normal respiration performance.
Unfortunately, I hadn't taken into account the usual human reaction to my action: prevention from a future occurrence. Sea Eyes immediately shut the window and her door, never to open them again for the next two days. That is, until my bodily functions could be put off no longer; my detainment was then rapidly reversed, to my pleasure.
I'm just glad now that things are back to normal, despite the wonderful time I had with Grifick. But his parting words still echo in my head:
"You don't have to go back, you know."
"I know. But going back means realizing my dream of living the high life."
"The high life is where you make it. If you wanted, you could...you could make it here, now...with me.

"I want to be your escape, Kaiten."

Eight: An Old Face

Cats in general, though almost always misanthropes in the way of humans, are generally not unkind to other cats. In fact, it is not unheard of street cats to have one or more familiar acquaintances, despite human generalizations about our common demeanor towards them being applied to all other forms of life.
I, for instance, have one friend who has been my mentor from the beginning, guiding me to the gullible spots in town for food and so forth. He has been one I could count on. Grifick, as he is commonly known, looks not unlike me; medium-long black fur, and a subtle, lion-like mane. The only real difference between us is our eye color: my eyes are a deep ocean blue, his a fiery orange. He wears also a small tear in his left ear, a battle scar. We often stop to talk whenever our paths intersect.
One night, while dozing on Sea Eyes' bed, I awoke to the sound of shaking metal -- the fire escape. I looked out the window, already on my feet. Soon, a pair of noctilucent eyes the color of an eerie turquoise appeared in the dark void outside the window. I prepared to fight, arching my back, fluffing my fur, waiting to growl my formidable warning. And then Grifick jumped in through the open window. My low rumble quickly transformed into a surprised "hrrmm". How in the world did he find me here? My inner street warrior smacked its forehead; my habits of watching for followers had waned. Perhaps he tailed me and waited for night.
He dispensed with our usual warm greeting, and it dawned on me that he was quite winded. "You know," he panted, "it's a long climb up here. How do you do it?"
"Simple scavenging, however perhaps a bit too desperate, but food is an excellent motivator when you are faced with a formidable obstacle."
"Yeah, well, I'm not sure whether or not that's a good thing. I've always prided myself in being able to locate the most convenient food, no matter how hard to find. Speaking of which, how did you land yourself in a place like this?"
"It's a long story. The most important question right now is what in the world are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"I haven't bumped into you in a while, so I got curious. When I spotted you, I tried to catch up, but you were in a hurry. I saw you climb up the fire escape, and I waited for an opportune moment."
"Well, fine," I said, still skeptical, despite him being a good friend. "I hope you know that the kitchen is closed 24/7 to all tourists."
"Of course. I'm not as uncivilized as most youngsters out there, I thought you knew that."
"Naturally. But even the closest of relationships can be torn apart by bare necessities."
"Understood, but it will never come to that. Hey, you look like you're nearing that time of the month. I hope you don't plan on bleeding all over this poor girl's bedroom."
"Of course not. But I can't just take off for a few days; she'll think I've ditched her."
"A necessary cost. Come on, you can crash at my place for a few nights."

Needless to say, I always find him hard to refuse. He had a place in an alley next to a restaurant, and made space for me while I scoped out an inconspicuous place to make my monthly mess. But as our time together wore on, I realized that he was more to me than a mentor; he was my best friend and companion.

Seven: A Rude Awakening

Humans possess a grossly inaccurate belief that all cats have a natural predator side to them that automatically sufaces at the soonest glance of anything that might remotely resemble "prey". They also believe that this predatory "alter-ego" is fascinating to watch. I often hear my peers scoff at humans' repetitive tellings of any related personal anecdote, or fact to that effect.
I only speak of this aggravating, commonplace characteristic due to the fact that only two days after I had first slumbered on Sea Eyes' bed, the gained comfort of which I can only describe as celestial, I was cruelly rent from my doze and callously dumped on the floor in front of...a window, one that overlooked a street scene, a feature of which was a bird. There was absolutely nothing special about the bird. I chose this moment of opportunity to play dumb, despite Sea Eyes' repeated excited instructions to look out of the window. I nearly laughed at her frustration when I looked at her pointed finger with disinterest instead of the "singing chicken". However, this tool of amusement that doubles as a mild restitution for lost sleep is highly unoriginal; it has been utilized by many before me, and likely will be for many after. Hey, you can never kill a classic. I love thwarting humans' attempts at creating a fascinating nature experience right in the comfort of their own living room. When they try to produce an end that justifies a horrid means (namely, waking me up), and that end is taken away, it's great to see the result of a deserved fate: a long face.
How's that for inaccurate belief?

Behind the Sea Eyes

As Chloe walked down the hall, she saw a bird outside the window, not thirty feet away. She quickly ran back to her room to fetch Sammy. He would like to see something like this -- he was a cat after all, and cats hunt birds. She could already see him crouching low to the ground, waiting for a moment to strike. She found him sleeping on her bed. After deliberating about whether or not to wake him, she picked him up and rushed him to the window. He looked out of it for a moment, and then stared at her. "No, look! Look at the bird, right over there!" she pointed, but he just looked at her gesturing hands. "Look! Prey! Look at the bird, you dork!" Her pointing index finger then became the subject of his gaze. Disappointed, Chloe walked Sammy back to her room in her arms and set him on the bed.

As she exited the room, she wondered whether or not it was a good idea in the first place to indulge her whim of having a cat, much less a retarded one. Well, I'm sure the best times are soon to come, she thought to herself.

Six: Learning Human

As I lay on Sea Eyes' bed, I heard the approach of another human. It was a middle-aged woman, brunette, tall, and a demeanor characterized by a practical life. As soon as she saw me, her face went from composed to quite the opposite. She started yelling at Sea Eyes, calling her "chloe", and pointing from me to the window. "Chloe", as she was called, started talking very fast and soon the other human stopped yelling. Then she said something emphatically and walked out.

It was in this point in time that I wished I knew what they had said. I could only ponder the significance of my not being shooed out. Soon Chloe walked over and started stroking me, speaking in soft tones. One look at her eyes told me everything; no one else had known of my visits, but despite the surprise I was still able to stay. Her continued speech with a repeating pattern of intonation made me think I was here only at her promise to do copious amounts of duties, because it sounded like she was listing them at me. This speculation made me pause - maybe this human stuff wasn't so hard to learn after all.

Later she let me out of the room. I took this time to entertain second thoughts about getting so deeply involved with these doltish beings. However the thought of returning to the streets, constantly foraging for food and heat, quickly dissipated my doubts. I simply couldn't give up the meat scraps at the nearby human eating facility, though. I would have to lead a double life, eating from both worlds, sleeping in one and getting occasional pleasure from the other.

In any case, I decided to finally test out the famed human beds for a night. Oh, was it the most blissful sleep I ever had the chance to enjoy.

Five: Next Stop: The High Life

My evil plan was successful, as usual. I have to admit that doing that kind of, maybe, just a little bit made me sorry. Of course, I being a cat, internal resistance is futile. The emotion was assimilated.

Sea Eyes welcomed me with open arms when I jumped onto the windowsill. A little too open, in fact; I found it rather difficult to extract my body from them without using sharp, pointy force. But before she knew it, I had wormed my way into her heart - and, more importantly, her warm, comfy room. I was becoming more of a snob already with each step.

Her room was nothing like some dreadful infant girl's room, painted dark gray-blue instead of pink, a nice contrast. She had a single white lamp on her white ceiling - or rather, three lamps pointed in three different directions sharing a base. The walls had several large frameless pictures on them, spaced around the room. Surprisingly, there were no pictures of athletic or movie stars to be found. She had a loft bed, with a ladder. Underneath there was a desk with a computer and lots of books decorated here and there with small stuffed animals. The room gave me a sense of simplicity and individuality. It was as if it meant to convey, "yes, I'm a girl, and yes, I like girly things, but I don't have to be perky or pink." Not only that, but her room didn't carry a trace of any other animal, so I could have her full attention to myself.

All in all I felt that Sea Eyes and I would get along fine, as long as I got everything I needed. Pretty soon I would be a high-rollin' girl of the city, with Sea Eyes in tow.