Tuesday, August 28, 2012


     It tore me up for days. I didn't eat much, didn't sleep more than a few hours. Every time I looked outside, the sun always seemed to make everything too bright, too surreal. I'd sit up on my bed and just have nothing in my head. It was like a boring and empty dream, and all I could do was stare out the window.
    Rudy took concern at first, but I had always been the more quiet type anyways, so after he asked a few times if I wanted to talk about it (whatever it was, he didn't know) he let me be. I was like a droid; loading, pushing, lifting, stocking, pushing, loading, lifting, stocking... It was all I did for days.
    Then, one day back to my apartment after a long day of work around the holiday season, I heard something scratching at a wall, or door. When I turned the corner onto my landing to my apartment, I saw a cat with her front paws resting on my door, not making a sound, but just looking at the door. cat-48032_640
    "Get out of here", I sighed, waving my hands tiredly in the cat's direction. I was going to throw my jacket at it when it remained where it was, but once it looked at me, I stopped and my jaw just dropped.
    When that stupid cat looked at me, I saw her, Nancy, and I was in denial no longer.
That damn cat had her eyes, her sweet, beautiful brown eyes, and I couldn't look away. I stared as my fingers loosened around my keys and my knees seemed to buckle beneath me. When I hit the ground, I felt like I had just run miles and miles, and honestly I must have, because I was remembering vivid details of memories I had long since suppressed.

    It was as though Nancy was right before me, smiling as beautifully as she always had, with sensual eyes and soft body. I remembered everything, every moment we ever had, and when those memories reached Nancy holding Trey's hand, they froze. I remembered her eyes and in them, remorse and sorrow.
    No, I whispered to myself. And Nancy the Cat.
    I felt a heat radiating inside me quite similar to the one I had felt when I was with Nancy those few years ago, but now it was anger, and not compassion.    How could I not have gone after her?
    How could I have left her to her thoughts and those lies?
    Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and dropped into my open hands alongside a wave of shame and guilt. I gasped and my breath quivered. It had been pride that had kept me from seeking her out and making everything right. It was childish and downright stupid, I realized, and I mean really realized. I tried to turn away from the anger and tears so I struck the wall of my apartment, and the sound reverberated up and down the halls. The stucco crumbled beneath my fist as I pulled it away and ignored the angry and somewhat scared cries of my neighbors.
    Nancy the Cat strolled over to me, face tranquil and unwavering, and eyes boring into me without mercy.
    I couldn't  take it. I had to find her. I'd do whatever it took, but I had to find her right then.
    When my roommate opened the door to our apartment, I tossed my coat his way and told him that if anyone came looking for me, to tell them I was gone and he didn't know where. I scooped up Nancy the Cat, who didn't mind much at all it seemed, grabbed my keys and took the stairs down to the parking lot three at a time.

("Nancy Flores" for junior literature class, '08)

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