Friday 15 April 2016

Week 13 Short Story

Meow-vie Star

They call me Whiskers. I am a calico cat. I would much rather be called something else, maybe a human name. They have such nice sounding names, like Ella. Humans are bizarre creatures with strange-looking fur that they can take on and off, and seem to think they rule the world, (just in case you do not know what a human is) so they decided to throw me out of an airplane. 

Hold on. Let me back up a bit, and I will explain the airplane situation, and how I had a brush with death, almost losing one of my nine lives. (At least, I think I have nine lives. I am too nervous to try and lose one. Maybe it is just a myth?) 

My owner, Angeline, is a nice girl. She has always been nice to me, but when she let them throw me out of an airplane, I kind of felt betrayed. The day was a nice, sunny day, with the sunbeam falling right on my cat perch. But no, I had to give up my extremely busy day of doing nothing to be stuffed into the torture box of eternal doom, (also known as the cat carrier) ride in the car for eternity, (actually ten minutes) and unceremoniously thrown into open air. (I had a weird belt thing on that stopped me from being smushed on the ground, but it was a lot scarier than it sounds.) 

"Whiskers, you are going to be perfectly fine, and you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Angeline didn't say. 

Instead, she said, "Whiskers, you're going to be famous!" Whatever that means. 

What do you mean? What are you going to do to me? I cried, but Angeline has not taken the time to learn cat, unlike me, who knows exactly how to read and understand Human. I just have the handicap of not being able to speak Human, since they use all sorts of weird tones in their speech, so I was ignored.

Soon, after a scorching hot car ride, with Angeline talking a mile a minute, we arrived at a place with lots of humans buzzing around.   


"Here's Whiskers, my cat. She's ready to shoot the scene," Angeline told an official-looking person. I could tell they were probably super smart because they had a clipboard. Angeline once told me that clipboards made you look smart. Do people that are truly smart carry clipboards, or do they just make unintelligent people look more creditable? There I go, off on one of my irrelevant tangents again. Anyways, Angeline was talking to a person.

Can someone please tell me what is going on? I mewed, but no one was looking at me, just yelling words that made no sense, and they were completely out of context. Who yells "cut!" randomly without using it in a sentence? That is not what Angeline's pocket dictionary said.

Someone scooped me up and started stuffing me into a tiny device, which seemed a bit like a human 'vest'. (Which, in case you are unfamiliar with the human life, is an article of clothing.) Only this vest had tighter straps that wrapped around me, and it made an unusual clinking noise as they put me in a human contraption, which was actually an airplane, (but I was unaware of that at the time) and we flew about a gazillion feet up into the air.

We reached a mind-boggling height and they yelled something over their headsets. Some person in the helicopter had a flashy sign and yelled something to a camera, "Cat-astrophe in Carolina, scene forty-eight, take one."

Then, they threw me out of the airplane.

The ground was so far below, just a spot. Calm down Whiskers, I told myself, Angeline would never let people hurt you. But the spot just grew and grew, until it was directly below me. A split second before I hit the unforgiving ground, I was yanked backwards, back up into the sky.

Long story short, once I reached the ground, few people escaped unscathed. They let me go, and I went home.

Angeline was disappointed, but I prefer to live a low-key life. I would rather be a house cat who is always curled up in the sun rather than an eminent cat who lives in the spotlight. (Eminent, what a cool word. I just found it in Angeline's dictionary, and I thought it was perfect. It means famous, or high in rank.)

Oh, Angeline just came in.

"I wonder what you would say if you could talk, Whiskers," Angeline says, "would you have a story to tell? Of course not. All you do is lie in the sun all day."

I have many stories to tell, she just doesn't know that yet.

- Whiskers



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