First I wasn't. Then I was.
In the beginning it was dark, so dark. I don't remember anything before the dark. Then a light came, a red glow, light filtered through blood. Motion, softness warmth. Then suddenly I was cold and still, lying on something hard, a bright light burning into my closed eyes, air filling my chest. Fear but also freedom. I drank. I slept. I returned to the void from which I'd come. And then I woke up. Over and over.
Now I stalk the gardens of The Lake. I hunt spiders and moths. The boy gives me food. He shares his sardines. I love him. His mother tells him not to touch me, but he does. He pets me. I love him. I love him. Pet me. Pet me! Pet me, never stop. He stops. I hate him. I scratch him. He bleeds. I love him. Why don't you pet me anymore? Why did you change my name? I like the name Pepper.
They stop giving me food. They give me water instead. I don't need water. Every house's backyard touches the lake. That's why they call this housing development The Lake. I like my water in a bowl, please, Mother. Not thrown. Why did they change my name? Is 'Stupid' a nickname?
I wish the boy would feed me. I wish the boy would pet me, but when I ask to be petted he plays with me instead. I don't like to play football. I don't like to be the ball.
I meow through the window
every time they eat.
They give in. The mother says my new name is Garbage Disposal.
Now I sit on my favorite rock and look out onto the lake. The wind makes the water ripple and the sun shines on the ripples and makes a blurry haze.
I am happy, and that is good.
They don't pet me anymore, and that is bad.
I would be nice to pet now.
Because I am so fat.
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