Dear Future Me,
It’s cooled off a bit, thank god!!!! It’s like, only low nineties instead of low hundreds. That means that I feel soooo much more energized. I want to go biking. Get some fresh air. Maybe meet someone. Cause someone isn’t texting me. I’m not going to even bother right now. Over three weeks of silence from her. I”m not heartbroken, future me, just angry.
And I wish it was just a simple jaunt in the town with my new bike. Of course it isn’t. Oh, you have no idea the kind of shit I’ve had to deal with today. It’s bad, it’s really really bad. I mean, I love cats. Look at my Sebastian. I love him. But holy shit that sandy red-haired cat can go die in a hole.
So I took my smokes when I left. I was going to find a place nice and quiet and smoke and enjoy myself. Smoking under a tree with a drink is soooooo good for the soul. Not that I drink. I had some at a party a few years ago and it was literally the worst thing ever. I’m sticking away from that crap until I get some of those fruity looking drinks I’ve seen some of my older friends at the “club”. Not that I went clubbing with them, but through Snapchat.
I had gotten some sweet tea to take with me for an occasion just like this. I had left it in the back of the fridge, hoping that I wouldn’t have to fight the old fart for the bottles. My plan was to sneak on down, get my tea, and gtfo! It couldn’t go wrong.
Then I passed the cat room and I heard mrowling and howling and hissing and all sorts of loudness. I know my cats. I know Sebastian. I know that something was up. Were they not getting fed? Were they fighting? I had to check.
And no longer did I open the door did the sandy red cat bolt out of the room and down the stairs, screaming bloody murder. I shut the door before any other cats could escape and I ran down the stairs after the cat.
It bolted out the back door in the kitchen and I followed it. How the old fart didn’t hear us I have no fucking clue. We must have woken every old person from their nap in a twenty-mile radius. How the old fart kept on snoring I have no clue.
I stopped at the edge of the forest. Why? Cause the cat ran into the forest. Why did the cat have to run into the forest????? WHY!!!!!
The thought of the old fart killing me over the cat was far more threatening than the thought of just forgetting that all of this stuff happened. So I ran after the cat into the forest. And immediately it was hot and stuffy under the trees. I mean, more than normal. It was like someone forgot that it was only ninety out and not four million degrees.
However, the forest also cleared up a lot. If anything, the edges of the forest were dense and thicc and almost impossible to get through. But the runaway managed to slip through and showed me a narrow, thorny path that I could take in order to catch up. I got scratched all up and down my arms, and even though it’s hours later it still hurts like a motherfucker.
Then it started to look more like a forest from the fairy tales mother used to read to me. Not the scary forests with the wolf, but more of the whimsical forests with, like, elves or faeries or something. The spaces between the trees cleared up, and instead of thorns and dirt, I got vivid green grass and the occasional broken tree limb. It was rather pretty looking to be honest. And no sooner did I stop when I heard the mrowling of that sandy red pest about a hundred feet ahead of me and heading deeper into the forest.
Okay, fine, it’s not a forest. It’s some park or something like that with a lot of trees. I looked it up when I used the free wifi at the restaurant the other day. Whatever it is, it’s like the place I live in right now. It’s got an outside that don’t match the inside. Crazy strong old fart, rooms in a house filled with the most random ass stuff you could think of, a forest that looks like a discount horror film when it's really some sort of fairy tale ending.
I got to the point where the cat was about fifty feet ahead of me or less. It was far, but I had a chance. I’m panting. I’m hot and tired and sweaty and ready for a long nap. Or a smoke and a nap. Yes, definitely both.
The cat stopped in a clearing. It was an actual clearing, with the space in the middle open to the sky. It looked like people had camped there or some shit like that. There was a fire pit, with a ring of stones. The wood was charred, and it had looked like someone had camped out the night before and high tailed it out of there real fast since it is still early in the morning.
Alright, it was like 11. But it was still early for someone like me who liked to sleep in while I could. And since it was the coolest in the morning, guess who sleeps in as late as she can? This girl right here.
Alright, future me, so we running after this damn cat. And it’s taking me deeper and deeper into this park? This forest? This fairytale nonsense at the very least. And I have no idea what to make of this place. Or this cat. Or that house. Or that old geezer. Or, well, anything, really. I don’t know anymore. And yet I’m still in the forest chasing the cat and writing this down. I mean, I did chase the cat. And I am writing this down. And it is the same day. So, future me, I obviously made it back home in one piece.
But being honest here, when I ran into the forest blind like that, I was scared shitless. There’s something in the air here that unnerves me. Despite the prettiness of the place, I don’t know if I can trust this place any more than I can throw it. And since I can’t throw it, well, you get the picture, right, future me?
Eventually, the cat stops in front of this little shack. Literal shack, mind you. It sits there and just kind of stares at it. It’s old and run-down and there are holes in the ceiling and in the walls. The windows don’t have glass. Inside looks like there was a fight or something like it.
I’m scared of that place, to be honest. It makes the forest look inviting, and it makes the house look normal. It’s like someone died in there not too long ago. I’m not one to believe in the superstitious or anything like that, but I swore I heard unearthly moans.
I grabbed the cat around the throat and practically throttled it to death as I ran back the way I came. Thankfully, the cat had run in mostly a straight line. I was able to make my way back to the clearing easily. From there, I went back as fast as I could with a struggling, hissing cat in my hands. I had to practically wiggle through the thorns to get to where I knew the house was. Even through the trees I could see the looming four stories. It was the tallest, and thinnest, building on that street. With it so close to the forest like that, it was certainly easily viewable even through the thorns and the tree branches that divided pretty forest and the house with a swath of dark forest.
Man, fuck that forest.
I somehow managed to sneak the cat back to its room, where it mrowled in protest the whole way. Thank whatever god is up there that the old fart was still asleep. I went back to my room and collapsed. I’m so tired. I don’t want to move. It’s been hours since then. And I’m still tired. All I want to do is smoke and drink my sweet tea and sleep.
But smoking sounds like so much work right now.
And going downstairs sounds like so much work too.
I’m just going to sleep now.
Goodnight.
Robin
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