A Fair Trade, Final Chapter (Patreon)

Chapter 4

Waking up I find myself on the window sill. I feel so utterly at peace like some kind of weight

 has been lifted off my shoulders but I can't imagine what. I stretch out arching my back. 

Feels good man.

Major de ja vu!

Last thing I remember last night was falling asleep in Bridget's arms, It's funny I guess she 

must've put me back here after she pulled me away.

She can be so possessive.

I really don't like being picked up, it feels so...patronizing.

There was something between us, last night? Something was said?

Words don't come to mind, I just feel relieved.

I shrug, can't have been that important.

I look around the room, finding myself alone again, just how I like it.

I'm usually alone, its comfortable. You can be yourself when you're alone.

Saying that though I spend that alone time asleep so... I lose my train of thought.

Meh whatever. Sleep is good.

I often sleep here, it's nice, well at least during the day when no one's around. When they

 get back I have to find other places to sleep.

People are too noisy.

I have sleeping spots dotted around at various points, inside the furnace cupboard is the shit.

That things so damn warm, it's like a vacuum of time, I could just spend forever in there.

I used to have like, one specific spot I think. A bed of some kind, though that's just too 

restrictive for me it turns out. Sometimes you just need to nap somewhere, who the hell can

 sleep in only one place anyway?

When the inspiration strikes I say just nap.

If it's warm? Nap

Plenty of warm here.

I surprise myself, I can't remember the last time I felt this warm and bubbly, words just 

bubble up and pop without thinking about them.

I yawn. My teeth bared to the world, face folds back.

"What time is it?" I say aloud to no one.

I look up at the clock for some reason, though I have no idea what is says, weird habit of 

mine. I need Bridget to tell me what the time is.

Usually me looking is her signal to tell me. I tried to learn it once but numbers are just too 

weird an idea for me, how can you assign life to symbols?

I don't need numbers to tell me it's late, the sun had arched over and is on its way down now.

I'd slept most of the day, though that's not totally out of the norm for me,

I vaguely remember Bridget pressing lips to my head and kissing me on her way out, the the

 knocks and scrapes of them leaving in the morning.

God they're just so busy, they never seem to just stop y'know? How can you live life like that?

What's even that important that they need to go to? I'm useless without my long naps. But

 then again, what do I actually do anyway?

My mind goes blank...Sleep?

...Is that really all?

Surely not.

Hunt? Do I hunt?

I should get out more. I need to feel the wind on me more.

I make a mental note to get out at some point soon, sitting around all day is swell but too 

much of it must be bad for me.

I rub hands through my belly feeling for fat, I find a couple rolls.

Yes, there's the motivation. This will slow me down, need to run, climb and stuff.

I stretch again, feeling my coat unfurl itself, the sensation tickles like crawling bugs and I 

can't but fix myself, hands sinking deep into flattened fur and brushing out.

Deep enough to bury them. Everything springs back to its normal place after some tongue

 action, my claws just get tangled, not great.

I jump down, the distance from sill to floor took me by surprise today like I hadn't done it 

more times than I could count if I could count.

I can feel the impact, my palms squishing flat and gripping the hardwood floor. Tail hitting 

the floor, I feel a little uneasy though I have no idea why, I must've slept weirdly. It shakes me out of my sleepy buzz.

I close my wide stance feeling silly for clumsily falling like that. Not that there's anyone to be

 embarrassed in front of, it just hurts my pride.

Bad form.

My bladder twinges within me and I piece together my self esteem and gracefully pad my 

way to the bathroom. I'm naturally drawn to using all my legs.

When I need to I can walk on two legs, but why put in that much effort, it's just such an 

awkward way to walk. Like throwing your leg out to catch yourself with every stride.

I'm not sure what I'd prefer though, proper hands or what I have.

I feel so at home walking on them and so clumsy on my feet that I can't imagine how limiting

 life would be if it were otherwise.

Regular people seem to manage fine though they are slow, I've even seen them run a few times and it's like watching prey half heartedly run away, like they're old or sick.

As I walk through the kitchen something new catches my attention, it smells like food but 

not like anything I've come across before. Tuna has a rich saltiness to it, this has a more 

chemical tang to it, like its only partially made from actual food.

My bladder speaks louder than my stomach, I put a mental pin on that thought as something to investigate later.

On entering the bathroom one of my claws annoyingly gets caught in the bath mat, I have 

to first shake the damn thing off. I don't even use them that often and somehow anything 

fluffy gets tangled in them, super annoying. Worst are the towels in the furnace cupboard, 

Bridget has to have the warmest, fluffiest, coziest things for some reason almost like she 

wants me to sleep in there.

I manage to pick my claws out, without flinging the rug across the room.

Oh Ha, I'm such a dumbass!

How did I forget I could move them?

With some effort I pull them back in. I can't remember the last time I did that. Weird.

That'll make things easier.

With that done I approach the toilet but stop,

I'm standing in front of the giant cold porcelain bowl like I'm about to use it.

What the hell was I doing?

I can't have been about to use this.

How would that even work?

I can't...pull it out like that. Not the way I've seen that guy use his anyway. though it certainly does seem practical.

I get down confused and look to my tray sitting where I should've gone in the first place.

My litter tray admittedly was a recent addition to my life, I asked for one when I got tired of going outside a few months ago.

That home I was in before, had a huge garden where I spent so much time. I only really came in to eat and sleep.

A litter tray was never something I needed until I came here.

I think back on the broad sunlit green grass of my childhood for a moment, I miss the outdoors.

For whatever reason though they don't make litter trays that fit me, and this cover .Bridget insists on fixing it in place. It just blocks me from using it.

I can't get to grips with the latches on the side to un clip the lid, I have managed it before but not today. The action strains my wrists.

So I just have to kick it off. Not an easy task really.

It takes several attempts, in the end I gave it a kick powerful enough to crack the plastic and send the lid skittering across the tiled floor.

I apologize to Bridget out loud despite her not being at home.

I will have to bring this up with her later. Maybe ask for a bigger tray too as I have a hard time aiming in this one on account of it being too small.

Following that, my clean up and I'm ready to start my day.

I'm about to head out the door to investigate that food when some instinct pulls me to the mirror behind the sink, one that I can't explain, something just told me I needed to be there as part of some routine I must be miss-remembering.

Just like the toilet I'm here without thinking about it, it's just happened.

I run through my process to myself:

"Piss, wash...look at mirror?" Is that it?

The mirror is high up, on a wall behind the sink with a wide variety of stuff around it, people stuff, well not me people stuff anyway.

Tubes and bottles for washing and such, nothing I've ever had anything to do with.

I stand up on two legs and have a look, maybe it will stir my memory.

It's the only way I can actually see myself. Those idiot builders didn't consider short people like me when they put this in clearly,

Fur ripples on my chest and arms as I hook my elbows on the rim of the sink for support, it feels unnatural, surely this isn't normal.

A flash of eyes startle me and I feel the need to back away sharply fur on my back springing up.

Oh! Fuck. I can't believe that scared me. It's just my reflection.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I look harder at myself. I can't believe that happened. What the fuck is that?

Oh Yes this must be it, I look at my reflection. That's the routine I must've been thinking of. I'm admiring myself, preening, fixing stray hairs the usual.

How am I to keep an eye on myself if I don't check myself out?

Fur bold and stark I look awesome as ever. I press at my cheeks, muscles pull as my whiskers flinch at my touch.

My hands, if I can call them that are the only hairless part about me, the fur thins as it descends my arms. I would love so much for this to not be the case, a full coat would be bad-ass. My fur shines in the bright bathroom light the blacks more than the browns. I love running my hands through it. It's so thick like one of Bridgets towels.

Subtle shift in tones on my muzzle as it blends to cream and thickens out down my chest...

I meet my own gaze for a moment and feel that electricity again.

Holy crap those eyes, they just keep piercing me.

Like a needle going through my brain.

I finch again, something that's hardwired in me feels very uncomfortable.

Like something that's about to jump me. When was I so bothered by my own damn eyes?

Razor thin iris's, something you could get cut on, cut like claws, sharp like teeth in flesh.

I feel myself lock into them.

Breath catches in my throat,

That electricity builds in me and dies as a suppress it.

This is new.

I don't like it.

I look to the side to break my gaze and when it returns I flinch visibly.

Something in me screams danger. Threat.

I barely hold back this time and fall back, losing my grip on the sink and land on my tail. Fur standing on end all over me.

What the hell?

What is this?

I suddenly don't feel right, not myself, like something is wrong,

I step up unsteadily onto my hind legs. Catching myself on the sink, I need to sort this out, I can't be scared, I refuse it.

I turn to face the mirror but decide there's a better way to do this.

Willing strength, I walk out of the bathroom. There is a full length mirror in the hallway, after a few steps I remember how uncomfortable walking upright is and opt out of it.

I greet the floor comfortably again with my hands savoring the security. I feel so small suddenly, when was I such a pussy?

I trot over, somewhat less confident in my stride as I build myself up for another encounter with myself.

Closing my eyes I walk in front of the mirror and open them carefully.

!!!!

There it is again, that anxiety, what is that?

I look at that creature in front of me.

No...I look at me.

That's me.

My head hurts.

I focus on the thought, why did I think that?

The creature turns its head and frowns.

"Stop it!"

Okay, get a grip Bradly.

I work through my features mentally checking them off in my head,

Markings? Fine

Chest? Fine

Claws?...Fine

Eyes...

...

They're looking at me.

NO!

I force the thought down.

I know it's me, why can't I think it?

What's this thing telling me otherwise?

It's a wordless voice, a feeling, pulling at my mind.

As I try to identify it, it's like reason evaporates, like water on the hood of a car on a hot day.

I look again, a mix of sadness and fear rolling over me in waves, my fur puffs up and I have to fight an urge to move, run, attack.

I back away, I can't deal with this, maybe I should talk to Bridget.

Am I going mad?

No, I've just woken up, I'm tired.

Yes that's it, I'm just tired.

People can feel strange when tired.

That must be it, also hungry, that too.

Definitely.

I smell that food again, it's a welcome distraction literally any distraction is good enough.

I eagerly make my way to the kitchen, something more than a walk, slower than a run. This experience has shaken me, I can feel nervous energy welling up inside me. Suddenly unsure of myself. This was pretty fucking far from ok.

The aroma takes away some of my anxiety and manages to distract me almost entirely, food is good like that. Give two men fighting cake and maybe they'd be friends.

On autopilot I find myself sniffing at the counter, my bowl isn't on it, I am sure of that, but where would it be? I can't smell it nearby.

My nose leads me somewhere different, a dark corner where the bin is normally.

I rub my side into the cabinets as I pas them, I just need to.

A rubber mat greets me, almost circular and holding a new bowl, not metal but plastic. The bowl has what I assume to be writing on it but I can't read so it's wasted on me.

Inside was food, It was the source of what I'm smelling but it didn't look like food, this is dry, like cereal.

I experimentally bat at it with a hand trying to feel it but my thick fingers aren't exactly great for judging texture. As strange as it was, I was motivated to stop those dark thoughts from earlier and stuck my muzzle in the pile.

What takes me by surprise is that it tastes nothing like how it smells, I was expecting a rich savory or salty flavor but this is quite bland.

It does have a pleasant vaguely meaty taste to it, and somehow is both soft and crumbly. A real mind fuck of a meal to be honest.

I think about it as I eat, I come to conclusion that this was another one of Bridgets idea's, maybe one more out of convenience than for my benefit but still nice.  She must've seen me struggle with the can opener at some point and decided that food that's out and ready for me to eat was better, or at least acceptable in her absence.

What's more, it's on the floor, where I am most of the time. That's a novelty, I hadn't thought of doing that but it makes good sense as the counter top can be slippery, though I'm fine with that.

I mean, sure it's a little patronizing but her heart is in the right place, just like that litter tray.

Thoughts of the tray lead easily to the mirror and I eat faster trying to bury my thoughts.

I manage to empty the bowl, I feel super full, I think maybe that was meant to last me the day. I was very motivated though.

My thoughts are slow though and it keeps me from going down certain paths. My body feels warm and tired, just like it normally does after a big meal. I feel a nap coming on and look up to the window.

I amble over, feeling too full to jump up in one go and instead opting to use the sofa as a step up.

The window has ever been a source of comforting distraction and in my stuffed bloated state it's not long before the outside world fades to black in that sneaky way sleep creeps up on you.

I don't feel myself slipping off, I'm just lying with the brightness of the outside world projecting on my eyelids.

I slump into my chair.

"Thank fuck that's over!"

I'm sitting at dinner, Just got off work,

A job I hate but can't quite figure out why.

Just general boredom I guess. Not challenging or interesting, just pointless repetition."

What's in front of me is strange, like when did I buy a metal bowl?

And why is it on a rubber mat? What is this the kid's table?

The meal is simple comfort food though, something I threw together.

Pasta, cheese and baked beans, the meal you make when you've given up on your day, maybe your week and just wanna pass out on the sofa.

I'm wearing a suit too.

Well of course! You'd say why wouldn't I be? That...work place requires it.

But then why is it so fucking itchy?

Feeling like insects crawling. I fumble around in my seat scratching at my collar, loosening my tie.

Ugh maybe its an allergic reaction to a fabric softener?

I try my best to ignore it, turning down to my meal of tuna pasta and sticking in my fork.

Something else that is off, my fork.

I look at it, nothing unusual about it.

What feels weird though is that I'm holding it.

Something about the ease of gripping it strikes me as interesting, the cold metal on my fingers.

It feels for a moment like someone else is holding it.

I return my gaze to the tuna steak lying in the bowl. It needs cutting up.

I reach out for the knife, trying to shake off this strangeness, must've been a longer day than I thought.

My hand meets the knife and sends its skittering off the table, clattering ont the ground and landing next to my feet.

Annoyed I reach for it to find my hand looks wrong.

Shocked I pull it back and stare at it in disbelief.

My fingers are thick and calloused, thick ridges of skin fold when I try to curl them and my thumb is almost not there at all.

This, stops being an issue, doesn't bother me as much as it should, it's like a mild annoyance.

For fuck sake, this again? I think out loud. As if this is a common occurrence despite half of me being dumbfounded.

I reach down regardless.

The knife seems to get further away as I reach for it. The room around me grows as I do so and suddenly I'm falling out of my suit,

Catapulted almost.

Unbelievably even now I'm nonchalant about this, that voice in my head screams outrage but I just don't give a shit. Sigh another, another fuck up.

I'm just a regular cat jumping down off a table, totally normal.

I guess I wear a suit sometime. Not that unusual.

Paws are outstretched still for the knife though it's long gone now and everything around me plunges into black.

Now I feel fear.

I'm falling, where's' the ground?

It was just there!

I can feel something wrapping me, constricting me.

A material, soft but strong.

Darkness gives way to pale morning light through curtains.

I wake up in bed.

I jump up, heart pounding in my chest.

What the fuck was that?

What a strange fucking dream.

The sheets tangle my legs, I must've been throwing a fit.

That's funny I don't think I've ever been a cat before, shame I didn't get to experience it properly.

I laugh nervously, still twisted in the strange logic of my dream,

Everything feels slightly unreal still.

The colors in this room feel bright and over saturated.

Some I don't know.

That feeling of being a cat lingering in my limbs, paws and legs felt natural for a short time.

I stand up and stretch touching the ceiling of my bedroom.

Everything feels smaller, like I've grown over night. It's a little disconcerting.

The mirror hanging from the back of my door presents a man, me.

That is me in the mirror I think.

Why does it look wrong?

The chubby tall man approaches, I can recognize him now, something in the bridge of his nose and eyes but the rest seems totally foreign to me.

This was one hell of a bad dream, how is my head this fucked up?

Still everything is feeling real now so maybe this will go away after breakfast.

I find clothes in a drawer that shouldn't have been there, or they should be I mean, but I can't say why.

I dress and flatten down my hair, its too long and tangled from sleep.

I open the door and step into the hallway beyond.

On walking through though something happens, or at least I think it does, something is different now. That's for certain. The air crackles around me.

I check my fur in the mirror again.

Still flattened down, what was that weird static sensation?

Meh, whatever.

I make my way into the kitchen to find Freya cooking.

Oh, right, how had she escaped my mind today?

My girl friend.

She smiles and wordlessly gestures to my breakfast.

She's so kind, I'm lucky to have her.

She's fucking hot too, her coloring still catches my eye as much as the day I met her.

Dark and light hues of brown tapering up her arms and framing her bright green eyes.

A far simpler pattern than mine but it hits home.

I pull my tail out of the way as I sit on a stool in the kitchen. I have to stop myself sliding off as fur isn't a great on wood. We should really get something else.

Picking up the cutlery hits me weirdly, like its related to some mis-remembered thing.

The feeling passes quickly as I shovel spoonful's of dry crunchy food into my mouth.

We share a quiet breakfast, she barely makes a sound, just smiles.

She's wearing that top I bought her, the one the bunches up the fur on her collar so it poofs out, just the way I like it.

I feel good in the pit of my stomach, I don't know what she's doing but what ever it is its working. I want her.

Even so I feel uneasy still, remnants of that dream no doubt, whatever it was.

I cast my gaze around the room, the circular cushions on the floor look inviting but out of place, the bird cage in the center even more so.

Birds are for eating, why do we have them in a cage?

Why is it in the center of the room?

Isn't there meant to be something else there?

What's missing?

The window demands my attention though,

Okay now that is strange.

Undeniably strange.

"What's going on with the weather?" I ask Freya

She meets my gaze with her brilliant emerald eyes, looks to her left follow my direction.

We both watch for a moment as a horde of multicolored birds swarm past in thick pulses, no sky, no buildings just an angry mass of wings, tiny eyes wide open.

Rushing, twisting, turning on the spot, like a hurricane.

Freya shrugs and smiles broadly.

Well, it can't be that serious if she's cool with it, I turn back to my breakfast. Freya still looking at me, warmth in her eyes but...unblinking.

As she stares, the room around me grows, I feel ..odd

Freya continues to stare into me, her gaze has a power behind it.

Pulling me in like a riptide.

I try to ignore it and eat, but my paw drops the spoon and it rattles on the counter top.

I hold the paw to my face.

"Wait a second."

My shirt hangs off me, the collar slipping down one narrowing shoulder.

"Ok now this is not right." I say trying to grab my shirt but my paws just pad uselessly at it. I remember that I need to use my claws but by then the shirt collar is wrapped around my waist.

I press on the stool.

"Hey honey, would you mind...erm giving me a hand here? I can't..."

I move around trying to get comfortable and the polished wooden stool is slick on my backside.

I fall, throwing my arms out on to the table. None of it has any purchase.

Freya has moved to my side now to keep me in her sight.

Her eyes piercing my soul. The hurricane of birds press into the window and I hear it groan under the pressure, the only sound in the room.

I'm sitting on the floor now, buried in my clothes. "The gym pants were a mistake" I think, as I try to climb out, confused and end up in one of the legs.

Freya picks me up in her arms. Cradling me. I slip out of the offending clothing.

"Oh thanks, sweetie." I say

"That was weird huh?"

Her warm fur is both comforting and unsettling.

I try to ask what is going on but words are lost to me.

I feel scared, emotions are a simpler thing now.

I bury my face in her chest feeling overwhelmed and everything turns warm shades, then black.

I wake up again.

My head is buried in to my bed, my cushion?

Wait.

Is this real?

I...the dream?

Fragments of what came before splinter my mind, I was a normal human, I had hands? Why did that feel so natural?

I flex my own trying to turn them to face me, but of course I can't do that.

Why does this feel strange now?

I push up out of my bed, The room around me is huge, that seems weird too, the cliff face down to the floor makes me dizzy.

Somethings not right. I'm standing on my arms...my hands?

Am I still dreaming? It feels like it.

The clatter of keys jingling in the door stirs me back to reality, the noise makes me cringe, I feel my ears flatten to my head.

Bridget's home.

She walks in smiling as ever, with just a hint of weariness, she must've been out doing something hard but I'm too distracted to think of what.

Maybe that workplace...

She's not in her normal clothes, these ones are plain and reek of something chemical.

Reminds me of that drink she has, only this is like being hit in the face by it.

She sits down next to me.

She looks so big.

Was she always this big?

"Woo, that was tough." She says kicking off her shoes

"Tough, but rewarding though." She smiles leaning her head back into the sofa and closing her eyes.

My skin is crawling again, no wait, that's my fur. Did just forget my fur?

What's wrong with me?

"A life time of this, eh? Almost makes me miss lounging around all day."

Her words flow over me as new troubling thoughts whirl around in my head,

Where had these thoughts come from? I was so at ease just a few hours ago.

What's changed?

Those dreams.

What were those dreams?

I was human, no...I am human...

No...I, am?

What am I?

A dreaded thought slams into me, like being hit by a bus.

I don't feel like a human.

Am I a cat?

It felt like the dumbest question a few moments ago, of course I'm not!

What a ridiculous idea!

But now I'm looking myself over and comparing to the image of a cat in my head. My refection this morning. That creature the one that looks like something built to hunt, to kill. None of that looked human.

Now that I look, like...REALLY look. I can't remember any different, I don't remember being anything else than what I am but I've always identified as human, but what is that based on?

My mind? But my body is not... My head throbs.

"...and Sandra said, we should intubate him, like shove a tube down his throat, like how insane is that?...

A snippet of Bridgets monologue registers with me.

That word "Intubate", sticks out. I recognize it, but the shape of the word just doesn't make sense in my head.

"Innnube?" I try to replicate it out loud. The pitch of my voice catches me off guard,

I shut up.

Bridget takes notice and breaks her one sided conversation.

"Oh, sorry Sweetie, don't worry about it, it's not important."

Her hand closes around my head and she rubs.

It help a bit.

I try to focus on that word again, but even the sound of it has escaped me now, I just heard it and it's gone like sand through my...fingers.

That dreaded sinking feeling again.

"Something up Braddles?"

I must have looked confused or something as she picks up on my mood.

I don't even know how to begin with this, how do I explain?

What am I even feeling? I don't understand half of what's happening.

The questions hang open ended, I'm finding it difficult to focus on them, I'm stressed, that's all?

Something is wrong with me and thinking about it seems to make it worse.

"I..er feel bad." Is that the best I can say? My voice is so high!

"Oh no sweetie, what's wrong?" She frowns, concerned.

I clear my throat,

"I'm not sure. I just feel sort of weird."

I'm not looking directly at her, I suddenly feel insec... ins... what's that word? Inns.

I freeze, a hole in my mind appears, I can feel the loss of something but I don't know what. I was thinking of a word, or a feeling. It's gone and I don't know why.

My heart sinks, I feel panic rising.

"I don't feel myself." I say my eyes wide.

"Okay...Can you ella bore ate?""

I frown at her

"What does that mean?" I ask

"Ella bore ate, like to say more about." she smiles, still rubbing my head.

"Sorry I shouldn't use such big words anymore huh?"

"Ella bore ate" The word sounds familiar just like the other, but it doesn't fit in my mind.

"Well...I"

"Okay this is gonna sound super weird."

I pause, trying to put words to my thoughts, It's hard to think clearly.

There's no way to say this without it being crazy.

"Bridget?"

"Am...I...Was..I"

"..."

"Am...I a cat?"

Bridget leans away from me, speechless.

"I mean...I feel like one, but at the same time, I think...I'm human. But like...I'm just not am i?"

The weight of the words I've just spoken hit home harder than when said in my head.

"I can't...remember being human. I don't look human."

I look down at my paws,

MY Paws!

They are paws!

Not hands.

There's no way I can call them hands.

There's no way humans are like this, birth defects do not explain this!

"I just feel like I was different or something."

"Something's missing."

Bridget coughs like she has something stuck in her throat

Thinking about it now it does feel very unsettling, who am I? what am i? Do I have a family? What's my last name?

Shit!

"Hey..." I say quietly though the sheer weight of what's behind it makes my voice quiver."

"Bridget...What's my last name?"

Bridget has been silent throughout this, her mouth open like she was about to say something but didn't know what.

I know how she feels.

"I must have one!"

That's it, human's have last names, that's the proof.

Last names, family.

"Who's my family Bridget!?"

"We...we're..I'm..." She's stammering, worry and confusion written deeply on her face.

"Oh God!" She say's "Are you?..."

I can see questions dance in her eyes.

"You..."

"We have..."

"We had an arrangement, a deal?"

"You remember our deal??"

I totally do not remember that.

"..."

"A Deal?"

"Yeah, like when we both agreed to..."

"I know what a deal is Bridget! What was our deal?"

She slides back along the sofa fumbling her fingers.

"You really don't remember??"

"NO! Do tell."

I can't imagine how scary I can possibly be, she is huge compared to me, but something in me says that standing like this makes me bigger. Hold my ground, don't show weakness.

I feel my fur lift up from me standing out, I feel powerful, dangerous. It actually feels good.

She composes herself, some realization setting in. though the look of concern still dominates her face.

"Yes, You're right, you are human, well were."

"But I have no idea what you last name is, that's lost now."

I'm speechless,

"What?"

"A few day's a go you made a wish, I guess in highnsite with this curren infomashun you weren't actually consending."

What's she saying?

None of that made sense.

Bridget looks sad now, I can sense it in her.

"Speak properly, stop avoiding this with your bullshit!" I try to yell, but my pitch wavers and sounds a lot less intimidating than I hope.

She stops, tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh my poor sweet Bradly, I'm so sorry." she sniffs

"What?"

"You wished for this." She wipes a tear away with a hand

"This can't be stopped."

"I wished??? What the fuck is that? Wishes aren't real!"

I say that but I don't believe it, I just needed to yell at her.

"Well...with me, yes. I am...was a wishing cat."

"Actually a few cats can."

Wait, a deal? did she just say she was a cat?

"That has to be the biggest load of shit I've ever heard!"

Wheels turn in my head though it feels like they're turning in thick treacle.

It sounds stupid, but it also explains some things.

"You...give wishes?" I ask

I'm aware that something's changed again, I'm smaller. I can feel it, something is around me.

"Oh god!"

It's happening.

"Yes, but I know what you're thinking, no we can't refehs this."

I strain to make sense of her. Her voice is warbling in and out of understanding.

"No, you must. Something's happening now."

I can still feel it, like a pressing down on me, a weight. I can't think right...

"Yes, I can feel it too Bradly."

To the younevers around us you are a cat, only me and you think diferenly."

"It's something that can't posiblee ecsist in too stayts"

"Now yoor, awere, it's werking fasser."

"Plees, stay cahm, Yool feel fyne soon."

I don't understand her but I feel generally fearful at her tone.

"I wish to be human!"

"Put me back!" I cry

"We both haff to agrie to it Bradly!"

"I can't grant a wish I don't want."

"No, you have to want it! I don't know what I was but I'm not this."

"This not right."

Stray thought enter my head, an itchy thing on my leg, I need to fix it.

I force away the need to fix it. No.

"Dam it Bradly, it's not just abowt you enymoor." She speaks, angrily words sound wrong.

I feel like drowning, my head feels bad.

"I like being me, I lyke my frends mi famile, mi job, mi boifren"

"I can't grant anofer wish if I don't want it!"

She speaks badly, can't hear her. Why's she hard to hear?

Ugh my head hurts

Weight on head. I need to get away.

"I thort you wanted this!" She speaks sadly

"I lieked it, thort it was gud for both of us."

"Youv, been so acsepting!!"

She grabs me, I don't like it!

How dare she.

I need to get out, can't stay.

She's bad, she did this to me, not sure what but it's bad.

Is bad.

"Nnnn" Whats the sound?

Sound to stop

Stop.

Still holding me, stop holding me!

"Plees Bradly, cahm down." She cries

I feel bad, she's unhappy, I don't like her being unhappy.

Why's she unhappy? I'm supposed to be unhappy. I need to get out. Something's wrong, bad.

Very bad.

I bite her, feels bad to do but I'm scared, she won't drop me. She can't hear me.

She's screams, she's very upset,  run.

"Bradly, com back! Plees, it'll be ova soon!"

She'd left door open, good. I need out.

RUN

Run out, run fast, run away. it's bad, so bad

I run fast, really fast, it feels good, never run this fast, I can catch anything.

What was I running from?

Stupid Bradly, I wasn't running from I was running to!

What was running to?

Look around, what was?

Oh, Tree!

The tree's! So much to watch, to catch!

Ergh, ground hard, dirty, smells bad, people dirty,

Why they in my way? Why can't they go away?

They try to touch me. I don't like being touched!

Have to clean, to fix, fur is nice, don't spoil it!

Dirty people touch!

Huh, tree's more far away than thought, people cause slow. Have to avoid.

Head hurts, sore head, bad head. Why bad head?

Good, Here!

Tree's nice, floor soft, not hard ground here, bad smells far away.

People far away. Less noise. I'm Happy.

I'm strong, I'm fast, jump. Tree's don't keep you safe from me, birds are food.

Better to fill me than to be over there.

Fuck you birds, I'm hungry

Fuck you squirrels, stop being alive.

Fuck, tired.

What's wrong?

Something feels bad, I'm here to hunt! Why do I feel bad? I'm good.

No...Something wrong, what?

Had bad thoughts about something, what wrong?

danger?

sick?

Feel great, never felt this great. Am great.

Deadly hunter, Bird's die. Rip them up. Eat.

Bring food home, they need it, they eat it.

They not hunt, not hunt, They need to eat.

Catch food, kill food, feed them.

Catch, kill, feed, sleep

Need home, need sleep, tired, catch, kill, home.

Home now, bring food, she hates it.

She's happy? She's good!

She's warm,

More food,

Warm.

Safe.

Sleep.