Identity

Chapter 1: Cat Pictures and Heart-Stopping News

Monday, June 26th, 2017. 10:18 A.M.....
*First draft*

I lean forward a few extra inches to the right, clicking my tongue a few times to get Miss Frizzles to look at me again. I'm rewarded with her immediate attention, and I snap a few more pictures with my Nikon camera.

Holding the camera away from my face, I quickly flip through the thirty or so pictures I've taken of the same model this morning.

My white Turkish Angora with her favorite tiara and a stack of pearls in front of her, one blue eye and the other brown.

Who wouldn't think that'd be worth as many photos as humanly possible?

"Nicki!" A voice calls from downstairs, sounding on the verge of slightly miffed. "Get your butt down here and help me load the vehicle or else I'm taking your cheesecake!"

I gasp, my eyes widening.

No, she wouldn't.....Only I know for a fact, and past experiences, that she would.

I pull my camera strap off, laying the device delicately down on top of my dresser. Crouching down next to Miss Frizzles, who currently looks like she could care less about any stinking cheesecake at the moment, before I remove the tiara from her head. I stroke the area between her two ears a few seconds, also grabbing the stack of pearls.

"Sorry, Frizzles." I shrug. "We'll have to cut our camera shoot off early." I stand up, looking down at her as I cock my hip to the side. "Does say....ten tomorrow morning work for you?" I question, feeling a smile tug on my lips.

Miss Frizzles, being the attention seeker she is, meows softly at the fresh attention I'm giving her, gazing up at me with her large, crystal eyes that look almost too fragile to be real. I stroke her head a few more times, then I turn, grabbing my purse before I head to the door.

I look back over my shoulder at her. "Duty calls." I give her a salute, vaguely wishing she'd be able to appreciate, and return, my sense of humor. I shrug to myself, practically skipping out from my room and down the short hallway.

Stomping down the stairs louder than necessary like a five year-old instead of my very mature seventeen year-old self, I jump to the floor when I reach the last one, moving forward towards the kitchen. I reel back when Mom abruptly appears around the corner I'm currently trying to also take, just barely missing the stack of boxes she's lugging around in her arms.

Thanks to my awesome ninja reflexes mind you.

"Oops, sorry Mom." I move past her, aiming for the last stack of boxes on the middle counter of our kitchen. "You're sorry?" Mom calls back, her voice fading a bit as she continues to the front door. Carrying the boxes out from the kitchen, her voice quickly picks back up in volume.

"-I'm sorry I thought you were an elephant coming down the stairs." She chuckles, and I roll my eyes before playfully sticking my tongue out at her back. She glances back just in time to catch me before I can hide my immature act, her eyes immediately filling with humor.