Midnight Eyes ✵ Phan

*1*

His ears pricked up, listening out for the tiniest piece of sound; a mouse scurrying down the street or maybe even a rat falling down another drain pipe. He just wanted to hear anything that would indicate his dinner.

Dan, wiping the mud off his human hands, curled up closer to the wall at the end of the cul-de-sac. His ears twitched as the wind howled across the dusty street, his body trembled as he wrapped his tail around himself for warmth. His black tail reflected the moonlight almost beautifully if you ignored the mud matting the fur together.

He sighed, watching the clouds of breath fade into the distance. Useless, he thought. He couldn't even catch a mouse when his life depended on it. Not that he would be able to eat it anyway, he may have been part cat but that didn't mean that he could have the same diet. His gag reflex would come into play if he even saw a mouse, let alone tried to eat one.

He bowed his head in surrender to himself, he could just starve to death- that would be easier –it wasn't as if anyone wanted him. He was just a stray Neko boy who couldn't find a master. No one had loved him nor will ever love him. He was alone in this and it would stay like that.

On weak knees, he pushed himself off the ground and whilst clinging to the wall for support, dragged himself to the empty street outside. His stomach churned from the lack of the food and the street started to bob up and down.

Dan shook his head as if to clear his vision but it only got worse. He lost his grip and fell to the pavement. He heard a crack but his body was numb, he couldn't have done any serious damage from falling- or maybe he had. His body was so fragile and malnutrition left him gaunt and corpselike.

He groaned, clutching his head. 'Stop', he pleaded aloud 'stop it!' He shouted at no one...or maybe the world. He hated the world, he hated himself. His hands found themselves in fists, slamming down on the grungy earth. 'Please!' He cried out one last time, his voice hoarse and broken. 'Please just let me die' and that was where it ended. His vision was still foggy and there was no need to hide.

At least if someone found him he could be killed immediately, like all Nekos were. But, he was scared. He didn't really want to die, somewhere deep down he was afraid to die. He was afraid to join his family and all the rest of the slaughtered Nekos. They were threats. Nekos posed a threat to human-kind, little did they know it was exactly the other way round. 

The Nekos had gone into hiding though there couldn't be more than a thousand in the world, at least five hundred of them were locked in cages at zoos or freak shows. Maybe that was what Dan was more afraid of, it wasn't death but the impending fear of being controlled. Fate was out of his hands and he hated it, he wanted control, he was a control freak for God's sake!

But none of that mattered anymore, Dan was alone and there was nothing he could do about it. He would fend for his life even if it wasn't worth living because that's what his instincts told him to do. He wasn't suicidal, he wasn't depressed, he was afraid. Anyone would be in his position and yes, maybe it hit him harder than others but he was alive and others were not, does that not say something?

Dan, with his last few breaths, smiled peacefully before falling unconscious. He was alive, and he was grateful for that.

-

Phil couldn't believe it, he was crying- again. He promised himself this would never happen again yet he let it. It pained him to see his wet fingers sparkle in the dim light of his apartment. The tears fell one at a time onto his blistered hands.

He hadn't covered the marks again, he kept forgetting. He almost wanted to show them off but knew it would cost him more than he would gain.

Phil was a complicated human being; it seemed that through all of his troubles a smile was still plastered on his face. Sometimes, it was fake, not everyone could be happy all the time but nonetheless, to the people around him, he was happy and radiated that happy to other people.

That cost him so much.

People took advantage of him. People robbed him, physically or metaphorically, it didn't matter. He still moved on with a smile on his face but one man could only take so much and he had scars to prove it.

Phil needed help but he refused to take it. He felt that help would make him fragile, venerable when it would only help. He refused to acknowledge that he was lonely...alone. He had friends sure, a lack of them, just like he had a lack of family. He relied on his mother alone to help him when she had so many problems of her own and now that he had an apartment for himself, he needed to start to be independent.

You would think at the age of 21 his life would be starting to take shape but it wasn't. He hated his job located at an office block just around the corner from his block of flats. He didn't want to work in an office nor was he qualified at what he did- which was mostly fetching coffee. He was too clumsy for even that, how was he supposed to sustain a real job?

For now, he was managing to pay rent and feed himself and that was good enough though it did mean that he seemed to be taking cold showers every day and did not have any money for Wi-Fi bills in which he was at a complete loss without.

Nonetheless, Phil was moving on with life. Even alone, he would continue as he always has. And, there was one thing he could be thankful for and that was simply living itself. He was alive, and he was grateful for that.

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