Krystala

He used to be my stress reliever whenever I get home from work late in the afternoon , only to discover the maid sleeping and unable to open the door. I would find him sleeping in one of the boxes that littered the compound, often suckling at his mother's tits.

Feeling relieved, I usually get him from his mother and carry him around. Sometimes I drop him near the dog which would often agitate him. He makes a hissing sound; his white coat expanding to make himself appear bigger; his body arching, positioning himself at a striking distance, ready to scratch the dog despite his sorry size as compared to his perpetual enemy.

When I bring him inside the house, I would often announce to everyone "bisita!!" The maid giggles at the sight of him tucked between my two hands. When my sister sees him, she usually pokes the creature's body just to annoy me. After carrying him around the house, I would gently put him down near the stove to look for bits of meat that I could give to our furry visitor.

Because he was not ours in the first place.

The routine went on for months, until lately, I realized that such cycle had already domesticated him. These past few days he would often follow me when I enter the house hoping that I have some treats ready for him. He would meow at anyone in the kitchen asking for scraps of meat or fish to satisfy his endless hunger. Nobody thought that we could tame him, knowing that he grew up without any encounters from people before. But I did. He was my pet and my mascot. He was my companion whenever I smoke a cigarette late at night, as I dreamed of things that I wanted to do in life.

However, this kitten has a habit of sleeping under the wheels of the car during the day. Many times, my mom would arrive late at her meetings because the driver would spend time looking for him under the FX. However, this morning, they all thought he slept somewhere else. Nobody knew he was under the wheels again, waiting for a fate that would abruptly end his brief existence.

The driver switched on the engine and the vehicle began to move. He was still sleeping under the wheels and in a split second, he was run over by the AUV's massive wheels. His innards splattered all over the concrete.

They tried to hide it from me, but my sister, who was upset in loosing another pet informed me of what happened. She was devastated when the old dog died, and this tragic accident broke her heart again.

And it broke my heart too, no matter how I deny it.

Because no matter how I try to be cynical about death and pretend that he is just a replaceable animal like all others that came before him.

He was my friend.

I have grown so attached to him that his lost left me mourning, as his memory begins to sink deep inside my sad, sad heart.