Cat Eyes || Tomtord

Kittens

Tom didn't know what day it was, since he was sleeping so often. Every day was routine. Can he even call it day? He had no clue if he was out for weeks at a time or minutes. Either way, whenever he woke up, he crawled over to the largest presence he could feel and drank the so called milk it provided. Some days, the creature would get up and leave, leaving him colder. Whenever that happened, the two other creatures besides him would cuddle even closer than before. Tom didn't mind; he was cold and they were warm.

One day, Tom was surprised when he could open his eyes. It all was very blurry, but still, he could see! Finally he could put a face to what the bundles of fuzzy heat were. He thought he'd be happy. He thought that seeing would lead to knowing. It helped him understand the situation but it also made him feel worse.

He look to his right and there lied a black ball of fur. It was not human. It had two pointed ears and a short snout. Tom recognized it as a cat. Then, he recognized that he himself was a cat.

His head shot left. Another cat! Almost entirely black, only a spec of white appeared just above its nose. As the other one was asleep, this cat was awake and staring back at him. Tom let out a meow, that being his only form of oral communication at the time, and would you look at that, it meowed right back at him.

Tom looked to the being that stood above him. These aren't cats, these are kittens... I'm a kitten! Tom thought. His apparent mother bent down to lay beside him and his apparent siblings. She licked him and he finally found out what the sandpaper object was.

His sense of smell was heightened. Closing his eyes, he knew exactly where his family were. He thought it was just a sixth sense at first. The strongest sent was pine. He came to the conclusion that the blurry, green shapes that shaded him from the sun were trees.

His hearing was also heightened. He found himself looking in a new direction every few seconds, trying to see what could be making every crack, rustle and whoosh. His mother purred and Tom found it calming. He felt as if he should be annoyed, like he would be annoyed in a past life of that sound...

Past life. I'M DEAD!! Tom shouted in his mind. It wasn't a question at all, he knew. He knew he was dead. Only he was reincarnated as a feline. His mind raced with possible answers: I overdosed, I tripped and hit my head or broke my neck, Tord survived and killed me, Tord survived and blew up the new house-

EDD!! He screamed at the top of his lungs, albeit inside his mind, as if he could yell loud enough, it'd come out his mouth. MATT!! He worried that Tord came back and killed his friends along with him. His mind began to argue with itself. Battling over if Tord even survived, let alone came back in the first place.

His mind raced and it began to become physically painful. His mother seemed to notice, surprisingly, as she nuzzled him and allowed him to have some sorrow food. He missed this. Just being able to give up and accept the warmth that comfort brought to him. He reminisced about his pineapple dad. He'd be uncomfortable to hold and his bowling ball mom was cold to the touch. Even though he loved them, this cat would be his first animate parent. Someone who'd actually be able to give him a good start to life, unlike his old parents who'd always have the liquor closet unlocked and didn't say a thing, well, ever.

He buried his face into his mother's warm fur and cried. He enjoyed the weakness he felt; no one was judging him; no one cared if he cried, no one would call him a crybaby or pussy or any other classic schoolyard names. He relished the slow and careful licks he received. So careful, as if he was a delicate vase that would shatter at any given moment.

He quieted down soon after that and was lying beside his guardian, awaiting the gentle arms of sleep to encase him in bliss. Less than a foot beside him, his newfound siblings were playing joyfully.

Tom's never had siblings before. He was an only child. He was always told to be glad he didn't have siblings. They apparently are either annoying or mean. Tom wonders why people say that; he almost immediately fell in love with the playful balls of fur before him that he would later recognize as his brother and sister. He wanted to go and tumble around on the soft, lush grass but he was tired. Tired from crying and tired of crying.

He sighed, lying his head down in his paws. Sleep was nice.