I thought I was a cat person, until I actually got a cat for myself.
Charlie the tabby was special. First off, she was a girl cat with a boy’s name. I’m not sure why I gave her a boy’s name. It just seemed to fit her. She was a bright orange color. Her fat stomach hung almost to the floor, swinging side to side like the udders of a cow. She looked like a chubby puddle of fur. But her most unique quality was her voice.
She didn’t meow like a normal cat. Instead, she bleated. I mean this cat went full on goat every single morning. My boyfriend Ned and I would be curled up in bed, still dreaming, and right around 5am Charlie would start the call of her people. It sounded just like this.
Now I want you to imagine a 20 pound cat-goat stepping on your face bleating at you as though you haven’t fed her in a month. This was our morning every day. Charlie would keep at it until one of us would relent and get up to fill her food bowl. Eventually Ned convinced me to close the door to our bedroom so she couldn’t be quite as obnoxious. She still bleated outside but at least it wasn’t right in our ears.
Don’t get me wrong – I loved Charlie. She was super affectionate and cuddly. She didn’t have those annoying cat habits of scratching the furniture or biting for no reason. I would call her name from across the apartment and she would trot over, udders flopping in the wind. After we shut our door at night I really missed snuggling her. I missed hearing her little purrs and snores as she slept. But it was a sacrifice Ned and I agree needed to be done.
After a long time with Charlie Ned and I got really good at imitating her “meow.” Instead of calling Ned’s name I would just yell, “MEHHHHHHHHHHHH” and he would know what it meant. Every time she would talk to us we’d respond in turn. “MEHHHH,” she’d yelp. “MEHHHHHH,” we’d quip back. It became little conversations. My friends would tease me over how much sounded like Charlie. But she was so fun to copy!
All of this changed a week ago. Ned and I had finished watching a movie and decided to head to sleep. I kissed Charlie on the head and then we kicked her out of the bedroom. I closed the door with my eyes closed to avoid seeing her little eyes watching me leave her out. We crawled into bed and Ned spooned me. I remember a feeling of contentment. Everything seemed right in the world as Ned held me. I fell asleep easily.
Around midnight I was rocked awake by the cat-goat bleating from the other room. “MEHHHHH,” she screamed outside the door. It wasn’t her normal call. This one sounded upset. I knew Ned had woken up as well because he started grumbling. “Just ignore her,” I whispered sleepily. “She’ll stop soon.”
But Charlie didn’t stop. She just kept at it. Ned rolled over in frustration.
I moved up onto my arm. “Did we feed her dinner?”
Ned rubbed his eyes. “I can’t remember.”
We looked at each other and at the same time said, “Not it!” We both laughed groggily. I ran a hand through his hair. “Girlfriend always wins,” I whispered in his ear.
He chuckled and sat up. I couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but I knew the curves of kindness by heart. I reached up to touch him. He grabbed my fingers and kissed them. Then he swung his legs off the bed. He stood, slightly off balance. Charlie had quieted at the sound of Ned getting up. He opened the bedroom door and said, “What’s the matter, fatty?” before closing it behind him.
I pulled the covers back up over my shoulders. I heard Charlie bleat a few more times. I was sure that once Ned filled her bowl she would shut up and we could get back to sleep. But ten minutes went by and Ned didn’t return. I wondered what the hell he was doing out there.
“MEHHHHH,” I called to him.
“MEHHHH,” Charlie returned.
Then there were a few minutes of silence. I waited anxiously for Ned to say something. All of sudden Charlie erupted in a loud series of cries. The sound of so many bleats in a row made me worried. I got up and turned the light on. Charlie was still crying as I opened the door.
Charlie shut up the second the door opened. None of the lights were on in the rest of the house. “Ned?” I said uneasily. I turned on the light in the hallway but no one was there. I didn’t see Charlie or Ned. I walked into the living room. Nothing moved. I went in closer to investigate but it all looked normal. Suddenly the light in the kitchen went on.
I froze. “Ned, this isn’t funny.” I tip toed to the door of the kitchen, nervous to go in.
Then I heard Charlie bleat at me from inside, “MEHHHH.”
With a sigh of relief I entered the kitchen.
There was Ned with my biggest steak knife sticking out of his windpipe. He was slunk against the refrigerator. His eyes were open and terrified. I gasped and went to touch him. He felt stiff. I put my hand against his neck and he wasn’t breathing. I started to hyperventilate. And that’s when I noticed something from the corner of my eye. It was Charlie. Except she wasn’t inside the kitchen, she was out on the fire escape. She was clawing at the window trying to get in.
I was looking at Charlie when the pantry door sprang open. I leapt back and fell onto the floor. With intricate movements something crawled out of the pantry. At first I thought it was sort of animal but it raised its head and I realized it was a man. He was naked and panting. He crouched on all fours. His face was painted with four black lines running from his nose out to his cheeks. I tried to scream but nothing would come out of my mouth. The man rubbed up against Ned, making a soft humming sound. He then moved towards me. He sat up like a feline. He stuck his tongue out and started to lick his arm. He dragged his tongue from his shoulder to his wrist. His eyes then turned to me. With a cocked head he said, “MEHHHHHH.”
He imitated Charlie perfectly.
That is when I found the voice to scream.
The scream must have startled the man, because he ran right over me into the other room. He was screeching. I dug into the floor and stood, whipping open the fire escape window. I threw myself out the small space and nearly fell off the landing. Charlie was crying and terrified. I grabbed her under my arm.
The man was suddenly back in the kitchen trying to crawl out of the window. I used my free arm to slam the windowpane down as hard as I could. I captured his fingers between the wood. He yowled like a feral cat. I slammed down the emergency stairs. I climbed them so fast I might as well have been flying. Charlie and I took off into the night. I was screaming for help.
I must have looked insane, running down the street with a bleating cat under my arm.
Someone called the cops. They caught up with me a few streets down. Finally I was safe. In the back of the cop car I caught the sight of a man galloping in the bushes with whiskers painted on his face. I squeezed Charlie tight to my chest. She looked at me, a bit offended, and said, “Meow.”
Submitted February 26, 2016 at 08:50PM by EZmisery http://ift.tt/1n1yrWq nosleep
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