RUN
“Looks like I hit it,” My dad grumbled as he stood in front of the corpse lying limply on the road. I covered my mouth, eyes wide, as I cautiously stepped next to him.
The cat was dead all right.
Its blood was seeping from its body; it looked like someone had grabbed it and squashed it like it was merely a body containing blood, which technically I guess what it really was. But it’s eyes were wide open and lifeless, its jaw slackened as its last final noise before it was ran over by my dad.
“Can we bury it?” I asked quietly, tears forming in my eyes.
“Of course we’re going to bury it,” My dad replied gravelly. “Look away, sweetheart. You don’t need to be seeing this.”
It was one of those things that you couldn’t look away from. I knew I shouldn’t be looking at a dead cat, but its eyes, though lifeless and dead, seemed to be staring right at me.
“Poor thing,” I muttered. “Do you think it was killed instantly?”
“It probably didn’t even feel a thing.” My dad kissed me reassuringly on the forehead before heading off the road in search of a shovel. I looked back down at the cat, glad that Chris was inside taking a bath; he would definitely be sobbing right now if he saw this. Chris’ favorite animals were cats, and ever since the death of Jinx, well, Chris has the belief that every cat we bring home somehow dies. However, this orange tabby cat on the road wasn’t ours. It happened to be passing by, and my dad simply didn’t seem him.
“Can I help you?” I asked my dad when he returned. My stomach felt like it was twisting from the gruesome blood, but the thought of someone else running over it again made me want to get it off the road as soon as possible.
Just a few hours ago, this cat was alive.
It was just a poor innocent cat, and now it was dead.
“Avie! Avie—look what I drew!” Chris’ voice called from the lawn. I saw him standing on the porch, his hair soaked from his bath, and he was waving a paper in the air.
“Distract him,” My dad whispered. “It’ll break his heart if he sees this.”
I nodded in agreement and jogged off the road, meeting my brother on the porch. He smelled heavily like childish soaps, and he giggled at me before turning on his heel and running into the house.
“Do you remember the monster in my closet?” Chris asked as I hurried to follow him into his room. My mom was in the kitchen, stirring spaghetti on the stove.
“Yes, I remember him. Did you have another nightmare?” I asked, my features softening as I entered his room. Chris was on all fours, reaching for something under his bed.
“Well, Mrs. Garza told us today that if we’re scared of something, then we have to face our fears.” Chris explained cheerfully as he pulled out a piece of paper. “She told us all to draw our fears today in class.”
