The Day I Turned Into a Cat (Completed)

Bottom Step

I froze in my tracks, my heart beating out my my chest.

OMG! ITS GOTTA BE THE MAFIA!

My brain was literally thinking up a million possibilities where I could do something-anything to get me out of this situation. But, my brain being my brain chose a different one: stay where you are and act scarred spit less.

"Well," the voice croaked again, "are you going to help me you idiot?"

Woah, this is one sassy mafia.

I nodded, still not able to speak.

Oh wait. This dude can't see me.

"Umm, sure?" I said barely over a whisper.

Who was this person and what did he want from me? I didn't want to get stuck in a scary situation where I would end up doing something that I would regret.

"Then get over here and fricken help me! What are you, stupid?"

Kinda.

My fur was still soaked as I wobbled over to the voice. The howling wind, darkness, and the fact that I was in an old abandoned house didn't exactly help calm my nerves.

WHY THE HECK DID I HAVE TO STOP HERE? IM TO YOUNG TO DIEEEEE!

I heard raspy breathing and I continued to follow the noise. My heart was taking quick plummets as I wobbled over. The dirt covered floor quieted my foot steps but creaky boards awoke with each step. There were broken bottles and solo cups everywhere and I maneuvered accordingly.

Why would the mafia choose this as their house? It's so dirty!

There were broken rafters that had wood hanging down from them, ready to whack somebody over the head. I could just imagine it now: a group of people partying, raising their cups to the new song that came on and taking a long drink of their wine and whisky.

Or beer, whatever. Wine and whisky is more fun to say.

But as these drunken people finally start getting on the dance floor (well, there isn't much if a floor anywhere so just pretend there's a dance floor among this mess), they start moving to the music and having a good time. Soon, the whole house is full on dance mode.

You have your break dancers stealing the floor to show off, then there's the table dancers: people to drunk to realize that they're on the verge of doing a strip tease on top of some rustic table. Then there's you Go-Getters: people that don't care who's watching and, drunk or not, they'll put on a show so extravagant that the neighbors will come to see. And off course you have your Shy Guys: not normally party people, so they'll just bob around in the crowd, acting like they're having a good time while wrinkling their nose at the strong drink they have in their hand. It's not like those people are going to digest it. They have their limits and the party type isn't really their style.

In other words, I'm a Shy Guy.

But anyways, as these guys were just breaks out in a new song, some Breakdancers would get the idea of doing a new stunt. Some guy runs towards his friend and hops up on to Guy #2 hands. He then launches out and starts performing some crazy cool backflip that would put any par-cor person to shame. But, just as he is in mid-flip, a sudden crack fills the room and the guy tumbles to the ground. The rafter that he just hit slowly starts to swing and within moments, before anyone can even digest what just happened, it falls right on top of him and smooches his body into the dirty floor. His guts splatter all over the tipsy table dancers and his brains fly onto the DJ who is looking stricken at the mess.

Then the force of the rafter manages to squeeze his eyes out and they fly up in the air, the cords connecting them to his brain break and they swing through the new space like a rocket ship. Everyone watches with stunned curiosity as the eyes plummet towards earth and land with a plop into two people drink.