The Cat Breaking in

TW: implied suicidal ideation

 

Outside the window to my study is a large oak tree.

One day while working I see a cat sitting there staring at me.

I reach out to open the window wide.

And ask the cat sitting outside.

“What is your name?”

“Orobas” the cat proclaimed with a voice dry and tame.

 

To which I stand up with great shock:

 “A cat, a cat who can talk!” I can’t help but balk.

The cat cocks his head calm, “Take it in.”

I sit there wondering where to even begin, Orobas stares at me with a sinister grin.

 

He leaps on my desk and then to my chair.

Papers and cat hair scatter every which, way, and where.

 

“What are you doing.” the cat interupted with a curious tone.

“Oh, just writing some poetry all on my own.”

Orobas shifts his head to me, “You? Write poetry?”

He laughs.

“That sounds like alot of work, rhyming everything and all that.”

“Well it’s worth it when you’re done, when you can just take in everything you’re looking at.”

 

The cat got up and stared at the messy papers below. 

“Hmm, these just aren’t very good though.”

“No?”

“You try too hard to make everything rhyme, the meter is inconsistent.” I know.

“I think it’s best that you go.”

He laughs again before jumping out the window.

It takes forever to finish my work, I don’t get sleep until the light outside is very low.

 

Orobas was on the tree the next day after I got back from school.

Sitting out there with an expression calm and cool.

 

“You can’t help them.” The cat said with a cruel eye.

“Maybe not, but at least I can try.”

“It’s too much work, you should just wait it out.” He said in reply.

“I can’t just pretend, I can’t just lie.”

“No? It’s so easy to deny. Just let your fear go, just let it die.”

 

The way Orobas spoke, it was different this time.

“Since when were you the one to rhyme?”

He laughs.

“You still don’t know who I’m.”

“And who is that?”

“Orobas.” was the only thing spoken by the cat.

Confused and irritated, I sputtered out a “Scat!”

A laugh, a blink of an eye, and then there was no cat.

 

The next night Orobas was back.

His fur rough and void black.

 

“Are you writing more poetry?”

“Yes.” I reply

“Are you writing about me?”

“Please just leave me be.”

He laughs again, looking down at the poetry.

“You’re reusing words, you rhymed cat with cat.” 

“You aren’t exactly making this easy.”

“I suppose I am not cooperating.” Orobas said with a snicker.

“Please just leave me alone.”

“No.” The cat speaks in a stern tone.

“Why! Why do you stay? Why can’t you just leap on away!?”

“Because I don’t feel like it.”

I don’t know what to say.

“I will leave if you give up,” Orobas offers.

“Give up on what?” I plead with desperation.

“Trying, rhyming, caring, structuring, helping others, everything.”

“But if I stop now, I’ll never be like them!”

“This is what you must do if you want me to leave.”

 

I wanted it so badly, that endless dream, an endless reprieve.

It would be so easy not to try, to let the world roll on by.

But I couldn’t lie, I would not just say goodbye!

“No. I won’t give up, I have to believe.”

Orobas narrowed his eye, “You’re unbearably naive.”

I watch him leap out the window to leave.

I laugh.