I regret having that second cup of coffee earlier. Now I’m restless.
I can hear the noontime show playing on our TV here in my room. The show is currently on their stupid celebrity-name-guessing segment.
The muffled sounds don’t lull me into siesta, unlike my brother, Tristan. Every time a contestant gives a wrong answer, he manages to give a weak chuckle. I can tell that he’s sleepy.
My right knee is uncontrollably shaking. Why did I have that cup of coffee again? Right. I need to finish this screenplay about a magical cat.
It has been minutes since I opened this file but I haven’t written a single sentence.
All I get are these hazy visions of cats and rain—endless rain, and white cats.
I don’t even know that much about cats; I never had a cat. But what the hell, I should finish this by Wednesday. The producer of this short film we’re making is driving me nuts with her nagging.
Right, before I start writing, I should tell my brother—just in case he looks for me later when he wakes up. He got injured from a basketball game two weeks ago. Doctor said he should be well by now, but he’s been really sluggish these days.
Strange. He’s not here. The TV’s still on, but he’s nowhere in sight. He couldn’t have gone outside. It’s starting to drizzle. Maybe he’s in the bathr—wait…
There’s a cat on the couch, sleeping peacefully. I can’t help but stare at it. It has such a white coat that it glows despite the gloomy lighting in our living room.
Oh. Look. It’s awake now… It half-opened its amber eyes and stretches its limbs. The cat notices me and starts to look at me intently. It opens its mouth.
I gasped loudly. What the fuck? This cat just spoke to me.
I rubbed my eyes and pinched my arms to check if I was dreaming. I wasn’t. I’m here.
“You look surprised again, Geneva.”
“Did you… Did you just speak now?”
“He’s not here anymore, Geneva.”
“Wh—who? Where’s Tristan?”
“You have to move on now, Geneva.”
“No… What do you mean? Go away!”
“Head injury, Geneva.”
I slowly backed away from the cat while it continued to hold me in its gaze.
“He never made it to the hospital.”
I need… Oh God… Where’s my coffee? I need… I need to have a cup of coffee right now.