Witness

There are places and people that live and die unnoticed––almost.

A girl was standing on the porch of a devastated house. The ribbons in her hair were dirty, as well as her face.

She was staring at something on the other side of the road, with intense, focused look on her face that only children are capable of.

Her gaze was dragged down to a small cat at her feet. It returned the look with its only yellow eye.

“Yes,” the girl said gravely. “You are right.”

She fixed her eyes back upon what turned out to be another house.

Paint was peeling off its walls and many a window missed glass. A yellowed lace curtain floated on the mild breeze. Apart from that, the building appeared peacefully still.

“She screamed ... and then it went quiet.”

The cat peered at the door.

“It must be locked” she whispered regretfully. “Otherwise someone could find her.”

The wind was fiddling with the curtain. The cat blinked and started licking its paw.

“I... I saw him come in.”

A silence that followed was frigid. There was something eerie about the way the curtain trembled and quavered, and then""

The cat tensed up and ceased the licking. Its eye was fixed upon the curtain.

It was still.

The girl didn’t seem to notice.

“She was awful, too,” she told the clouds. “Used to throw stones at cats.” She gave her companion a pointed glance.“You would know.”

Something in the cat’s pose must have alarmed her, because she turned.

He was tall, lanky. He reminded her of a black-furred stray. A dog that was treated poorly by his owner and eventually bit him. There was the same mixture of fear and resentment in his eyes.

“You are right.”

His voice was raspy.

“It was foolish.”

...

The riot van was very noisy.

The inspector nearly stomped on the cat’s tail. It dashed off instantly, sparing the man a furious look.

It sniffled the unlocked door and sneaked in.

...

“I’ve never liked cats,” the inspector muttered darkly.

Squeezed in between the carnations and a radio, it gave the policemen a nasty look as they attempted to move it.

It had one eye, and yet the inspector flinched.

“This one doesn’t like people,” mused the superintendent.

The inspector frowned.

“Y’know, that’s just it,” he mumbled. “Perched upon that windowsill. It... must have seen it.” The superintendent was momentarily incredulous.

“C’mon, Dan, it’s a cat. It doesn’t understand a ruddy word.”

Dan looked into the wary yellow eye and shuddered.

“You’re right,” he said hastily. “Let’s get out of here, this place is wicked.”

...

A ray of setting sun descended upon a lonely ribbon on the floor.

The witness gazed at the evidence. It blinked its only eye.

Something went click�"�"

And the door was locked. 

Author's Note

I'm sorry –– my English isn't my first language. What do you think about the story? I would be eternally grateful for comments.