WAM 2012-13Table of Contents:
| TragedySomething was wrong; the familiar noise of tapping on the bedroom door was not there tonight. Sitting up in the twin-sized bed the small kid listened, wondering if his ears were just not working tonight. Sitting there he listened for a while, an hour passes and still silence was ever presence. The silence became too loud for him to bear, he crawled out of his small bed and tip toed to his door and opened it expecting to see his little cat curled up asleep waiting to come in, but all that was there was air. Something was very wrong; he looks up and down the hallway then continues on tip toeing across the hardwood flooring to the stairs, like a mouse he scurries his way down and looks around the living room, no sight of his furry friend. Lifting up the skirt of the couch expecting a pair of green eyes to stare back at him, but they lacked and all that was there was black. Something was dreadfully wrong; shaking his head slowly in disbelief he sits back on his heels thinking thoroughly. He then jogs off to first level bathroom peeking around the door looking into the towel basket expecting to see a dark brown lump curled up all tight with a single paw covering his green eyes from light, but the basket was empty and all that was there was a boys lost certainty. Wandering into the kitchen he emits a soft whistle one that often brings his cat jogging up to him, but this time there was nothing but cold air. He shivers, something was extremely wrong; why is it so cold? Across the kitchen, down the hall, through the toy room, and to the back screened in patio door wide open, he stuck his head out the door looking around the room. There it was; the door to the backyard was too left wide open. Venturing out the open door he wanders around barefoot across the cold hard ground. Living on a busy road his mother never lets him outside without her watchful eye close behind him. Looking up all the trees in the yard he eliminated the chance of his friend being stuck up into a tree, moving along now he checks the bushes, rocks, the garage, out near the shed, around the playground; there was nothing, no sign or trace. Looking across the road a rundown shed lies in a forgotten field, could he have tried to go in there? Venturing down the gravel driveway wincing at the rocks jabbing his small feet the shed gets closer. At the road he begins to walk across it. Boy, his mother would have his head right now if she was awake and knew what he was doing, he thought as he tip toed on. Two beams of headlights fall upon his young face and in front of him, illuminated, lies the body of a small cat. ![]() |