beauty and innocence died this morning. she was lying at the foot of my bed. i was meaning to wake her up, but when i touched her, i knew she was dead. it was the first time in a lng time that i actually touched a dead body.
she was a three (or four?) week old kitten that i had chanced upon the gutters and brought home about a week ago. she was shivering in the rain, all muddy and howling. it was obvious that she had been left there to die. i took her and cleaned her up. we named her garfield, because she had orange fur.
she was beautiful. she had the smallest, loveliest, most innocent feline's face i've ever laid eyes on. her eyes were round and black and all of wide-eyed innocence. and i was looking forward to seeing her grow up into a lithe, beautiful cat. i was looking forward to seeing her grow up, period. and now this.
i was crying like an idiot this morning. she was so small. the size of my fist, probably. and she had this habit of burrowing herself in really tight places. last night she slept at the foot of our mattress. i don't know what happened. she was crushed to death. and the thought that i could have been responsible for it, it just kills me.
no. i'm not going to die. not now. nothing's gonna kill me. i'm going to survive whatever this is that i'm going through. because only the weak and helpless die.
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