Lavender Monarch has Exactly Thirteen Fears

24. salty

Salty. The cat's name is Salty. It seems ironic as salt is white and this cat is entirely black from head to toe. I wonder what it did to earn that name? Maybe the original owners just had an odd sense of humour?

I'm a frozen iceblock as it gently nuzzles into my hand. My heart is beating out of my chest and I'm suffocating. I know I'm gone when I start to see the butterflies fluttering around the room. Their little wings flap gently in a storm of vibrant colour. I focus on them as they spiral above my head and I soon forget where I am all together. 

Disassociation is my favourite escape route at the moment. A low purr hums through the room. Train tracks. The train is coming, I can hear it rumbling in the distance. 

"See Lav, it's not so bad." I blink and see June is smiling at me. Why is he smiling? "It seems like she loves the pats," he says and glances down. I follow his gaze and see my hand is stroking the cat's fur. I jerk it back. I didn't even register what I was doing. Salty nuzzles her head on my hand again obviously upset I stopped. I feel a cold shiver run down my spine. 

The cat must be evil. I know it's trying to trick me into petting it and then it's gonna bite and scratch me and never stop. Wait. This is what the therapist talked about, my thoughts spiralling irrationally. I do what she told me and imagine them as a spiral staircase in my mind slowly reaching up to a skylight in the room. 

Instead of falling down the staircase to the bottom like I usually would. Where it's dark and dusty I walk up, one step at a time and leave the thoughts behind. With each upward step, I tell myself the truth. It's just a cat. It's like any other cat of any colour. It's not evil. it's not tricking me. A normal cat that just wants to be petted. I take a deep breath and lower my hand back down. 

The fur is as soft as velvet and it licks my finger with a tongue as rough as sandpaper. Germs. The cat must have germs all over its fur and tongue. Why didn't I think of that? There's probably milllions of germs going inside of me now through the little pores on my skin and flowing into my bloodstream like leaves down a river in autumn. 

Stop. I silence my mind and steady my breathing. Germs won't kill me. I shudder involuntarily and I immediately feel June's hand over mine. 

"You're doing great, this is progress," he says softly. He's right as always. This is progress. 

"Everything okay in here?" I look up to see Jane poking her head around the door. 

"Yes," I say smiling. 

"So were you thinking of adopting then?"

"Hopefully." June and I grin at each other. She takes us back to the front and hands us a folder of information. It has everything we'll need to know before adopting and has a form to bring next time. We leave the clinic in high spirits and wander back down to the bus stop. 

"I can't believe I just pet a black cat without having a panic attack!" I cry as soon as we are out of earshot. 

"I know, I'm proud of you." June smiles and grabs my hand again. We swing our hands between us and practically skip all the way. I don't stop smiling the entire ride. 

As soon as we get home June comes inside with me to talk to my parents. 

"Dad! Mum!" I call out. Both of them are sitting by the dining table, my dad with a cup of tea and my mum with coffee. 

"What?" she asks in an alarmed tone. 

"It's nothing bad. Can we adopt a cat?" 

"A cat, what on earth?"

"Why do you want a cat?" my dad asks. 

"It's going to help me! Think of it as part of my recovery. Animals have been chosen to reduce mental illnesses and anxiety." June and I did our research on the way back.