Feline (Chapter Five)

The fifth chapter of "Feline".

The house loomed into view. The low-cut hedges shielding the well-manicured front garden looked as perfectly-trimmed as ever. But there was something eerie about what I was seeing. It was too dark and – strange.

The sky was nearly invisible, but the soft rattling of the wind was clear and sharp. The lights in the house were off, and the street was deserted. A figure darted into view. I knew in an instant by the huge shadow it emitted under the street lamp that it was one of them. Another feline.

I couldn't quite see which one of them it was though – it was much too dark. I had no track of time and I wasn't even sure if time existed in this strange, gloomy world. The creature sat there on its hind legs for what seemed like hours, its bright, scarlet eyes glowing eerily in the pitch-blackness.

The next moment, it twitched and began to move slowly towards the dark lane into the garden. I wanted to scream and make it go away, but the frightening feeling was cast out by curiosity. When it had reached the front door, the creature raised its eyes upward and sniffed the air. Before I knew it, it had leaped into the air in a split-second warning and landed on the second floor bedroom's windowsill.

The window was closed, but I was sure the creature's glowing eyes had the ability to see through the dark. I was frightened to death, but I couldn't shake away the dream no matter what I do. I confirmed right then and there that I was dreaming.

But it wasn't an ordinary dream. I had to wake up – or die. I fought the nightmare, trying to move my fingers and toes with great effort. Suddenly, I could see the dream starting to break, the vision becoming a great blur. The last thing I saw was the big, gray cat's figure sitting patiently on its hind legs and focusing its great, scarlet eyes into the window.

I woke up in bed, sweating profusely. The temperature wasn't very hot, but I was practically dripping in sweat. The bed sheets and pillows were tossed all around me. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and stepped into my flip-flops.

I couldn't help but recall the dream. I slid the curtains open, pouring sunlight into the bedroom. I glanced at the alarm clock on my dresser; it was quarter to eight. I unlatched the window and pushed it open. No paw prints on the windowsill.

Thank goodness. Have I gone mad? I sank into a chair. I was just extremely exhausted from the events at the party last night – that was it. It's just a stupid dream. Everyone dreams, dumb. But two similar dreams in a row? And I could recall the unexplainable feeling of reality, like seeing it for real.

The smell of it, the sounds surrounding you like a high-quality movie in the theaters. The familiar, strange man at the party. Who was he? Was it merely coincidental or was he really the one I dreamed of? But Jesus, we're in the twenty-first century. Who would ever believe such a fictitious story?

I remember Samantha and Kurt looking very concerned when I had seen the man.

“What's wrong, Cass? You look pretty sick,” Kurt had said.

I had told him that I wanted to go home immediately, but Samantha was very insistent on making us stay a bit longer. I had fled into the bathroom to avoid meeting him and stayed there until everyone began calling it a night.

Kurt had offered to go home first to take his car and fetch me, but I assured him that I could walk home. So we (including Danielle and Tyrone) walked home together and went on our separate ways. The parting moment was very emotional for Kurt and I because it would be the last time we would see each other in two months.

I nearly cried, but I composed myself and fought back the tears. It all sounds very silly, but when you're as in love as I am with a guy like Kurt, two months is like a gazillion years to me.

“Don't go near that Frank Stratton when I'm gone,” Kurt had said.

I had stared furiously at him and said, “Here we go again. I thought you wanted to -”

“Yes, yes,” he piped in. “I was just kidding. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I had answered, and the parting kiss was the best kiss we had ever had. Upon getting home, I headed straight off to bed and had drifted off to sleep in minutes. And now this. I should be worrying about Kurt's two-month absence, but instead I get to worry about this – this – I don't even know what to call it. Visions? Illusions? What's the difference? It's all made-up. It's not real!

I went downstairs for breakfast and found mom making burgers in the grill. Dad was at work – he's the manager at a nearby gas station.

“Morning,” I muttered as I took a seat. Mom grunted and shoved a plate of burgers toward me. I took one and bit on it. It tasted great. I wasn't planning on leaving the house today, but the thought of getting emotional again over Kurt's absence would mean torture.

“How was the party?” Mom asked me as she took her usual seat across the table.

“Great,” I lied, taking another huge bite.

She raised her eyebrows. “You don't look so happy.”

“It's not that,” I said. “It's -”

“- Kurt,” she said with a sigh. “Haven't I told you a million times before that your relationship with that guy won't work out? He's dated half the girls in this town!”
I rolled my eyes and finished the burger. “I know, but he's changed. He told me. And I know he has.”

“What do you know about these kind of things?” she scoffed. “You're barely eighteen. And boys will say they've changed, but they won't.”

“Look who's talking,” I told her, annoyed. “You're still with Dad even if he's had other women before.”

“Stop talking about that,” she snapped. “It's a different case. We're both grown up, and we've been through a lot. You're a kid.”

“I'm not a kid!” I cried, shoving the plate away and getting to my feet. “Look, Mom, can't you just be happy for me? I know what I'm doing.”
“That's the problem with teenagers nowadays,” she said, still in the same, low voice. “Fine, do what you want to do. I won't bother.”

I nodded furiously and started walking towards the front door. I stepped out into the front porch. The heat outside was even warmer than yesterday, but more people were spending their time in the streets than the cool shades of their homes.

I trudged down the steps and stopped dead in my tracks when my eye caught something. No. The big, gray cat with the electrifying, scarlet eyes was perched on top of Mom's well-trimmed hedges. I took a hesitant step backward as soon as I felt its cold, piercing gaze on me.

“What do you want?” I blurted out in a shaking voice. I couldn't help it. This wasn't dreamland anymore. As though in response to my question, the feline stood up and darted out of sight. There were hundreds of stray cats in this place, but none of them that huge. But it just couldn't be...

“Cassie?”

I turned to the soothing, mellow voice and saw Frank Stratton making his way towards the gate. He was about as tall and burly as Kurt, with black, gelled hair and a strikingly handsome face. I couldn't decide which of them looked better.

He was wearing a plain, polo shirt and khaki shorts that boasted every muscle of his body. But I wasn't interested in him. I wasn't lying when I told that to Kurt. He smiled and stopped a yard away from the gate.

“What's up?” he greeted. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” I said, approaching him. “How are you? I didn't see you at the party last night.”

“I didn't want to go without company,” he muttered, his eyes twinkling. “You turned me down, remember?”
I couldn't find any anger in his voice and expression, but I felt the rush of blood against my cheeks. I hated this kind of embarrassing conversation.

“Um, you're going somewhere?” I asked, determined to change the subject.

“No,” he said. “Actually, I came here to invite you.”

Darn it. Here we go again.

“Where?”

He paused for a couple of seconds as though to calculate my reaction, then said, “An overnight camping in the woods. Family tradition. Dad told me to ask you. I think your dad knows about it already.”

“He's coming?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, my family does it every summer – usually with your dad. We'll be boating, hunting and hiking – all that stuff you like.” He flashed a grin.

I leaned my elbows on the gate and averted my gaze from him. It sure does sound tempting, but Mom wouldn't allow me. But if Dad's coming, she might.

“Sure,” I answered. “But I think we need to talk about it first when Dad gets home. You know my mom.”

He looked happier than ever. “Great,” he said. “I'll call you around dinner tonight.”

“Right,” I murmured and started walking back to the front door. I caught a glimpse of a huge shadow that moved fleetingly behind me, but when I looked back to check if it was Frank, he was already walking back towards his house.