Traitors of Fate

The Dream

We ended up taking the cat to a nearby vet, before Jerome dropped me off at my apartment. He couldn't believe how unwilling I was to take myself to a hospital, but I pestered him to go to a vet for a stray cat. Fortunately, I didn't need to spend a lot on the cat, since I barely had money for myself.

After making sure that there was nothing wrong with the cat, the vet told me that it might have mild heat exhaustion, that's why the cat is lethargic. Jerome graciously paid for the supplements, indulging my spontaneous behavior. He said, "We found the cat together, so I'll help you raise it."

My decision to keep the cat became firmer when he made his offer. Since Jerome was going to help me take care of the cat, then I didn't have to worry about having it starved.

I knew I couldn't afford to raise a living creature in my tiny studio apartment, and it only dawned on me the moment I closed the front door.

My eyes scanned the mess of my living situation. My thrifted bed was on the floor, covered by sheets that I have not been able to change for three weeks now. Unwashed dishes piled up on the sink, garbage and dust covered almost the entire floor, and the only clean area was the bathroom since I've been sleeping there, in the bathtub, these past few days.

I let out a tired sigh. I’m probably sick from this unhealthy situation, I thought.

Immediately, I searched for a clean enough space in my apartment to temporarily put the still lethargic cat there, while I cleaned for a bit. I felt hot all over my body, and I would stop what I was doing occasionally because of the waves of dizziness, but I didn't pay attention. I just wanted to clean the space for the cat, so that when it wakes up, it can run around without the risk of getting harmed even more.

By the time I finished, I could barely move, and my body was shaking. But I found myself smiling in relief before I found a permanent place to put the cat. I was even happier when the cat purred for a second.

Finally, after changing out of my clothes, I laid my tired body on the bed. My mind was almost empty, aside from the thoughts of satisfaction and relief of being able to clean my apartment at last. All it took was a cat.

Perhaps it's the medicine, or the tiredness, or both that made my eyelids close shut fast. As I was drifting off to sleep, I tried to remember why I brought the cat home with me in the first place, but my consciousness was gone before I even knew it.

* * *

A burst of laughter and a dazzling sight. I was cheerful and had an aura of confidence. I almost couldn't recognize myself.

Have I ever been this happy? I ask myself the same question every time I am greeted by this scene.

I knew in an instant that I was dreaming. But it felt surreal.

The refreshing breeze, the clear blue skies, the swaying flowers, the breathtaking hills, the twirl of my white dress, and his hands in mine. In front of me was a man I didn't recognize. Everything else was vivid, but him.

However, he was the most realistic in my dream. I was in love. I was happy to see him. I was happy that he was mine.

Ever since I could remember, I've been dreaming of the same scene for a long time. At first, my dream wasn't as complete as it is now.

"Come here. . ."

"Do you like my gift?"

"Until the end of time."

It started with fragments and slowly more pieces came until it was almost complete. But it's been two years ever since it became the scene it is now, and the face of the man in my dreams stayed the same.

It didn't matter to me though; as long as that dream still visited me in my sleep, I didn't care much about its completeness.

In my dream, I felt more free and alive than when I opened my eyes to a bleak reality. My dreams were my only solace in this world.

As for that man, I didn't care about his identity. I was just happy to be held by him.

When I was younger, I was obsessed with my dreams. I believed they were true and researched as much as I could about dreams to confirm them.

Perhaps they were premonitions.

Perhaps they were scenes from my past life.

Perhaps they were what I wanted.

I was so sad about my life that I wanted to believe that my dreams were real or would become real. It even came to a point where I finally accepted that all of it was just in my imagination. That I was just desperate to feel loved, so I believed. I remember how I cried for days.

It was so silly, and I thought that I was done believing my dreams. Yet, I chased that black hole. I brought the cat home.

Just because this dream of mine always ends with that man saying, "I'll come back for you, even if it's from the abyss."

* * *

"Meow. . ."

My eyes opened to something soft pressing against my cheek. My surroundings were blurred, and my body ached all over. While my sight gradually adjusted and became clearer, I cannot say the same for my body. I felt so heavy that I couldn't move.

"Meow. . ."

This time, I finally noticed the cat beside me. It sat above my head on the pillow, while its paw lightly pressed against my cheek.

I thought maybe it was hungry, so I tried to stand up only to fall back with a wave of dizziness. A groan escaped my lips as I heard the cat meowing once again. Demand for my attention was evident from its meowing, but I couldn't focus because of the nausea that was taking over me.

I felt a chill running through my body, and it felt like I was going to vomit, but I didn't have anything to get out, and it made my chest feel tight instead. Even though I was having a hard time, I tried to stand up to get water, hoping that was going to get me feeling better.

I did manage to get out of my bed, but I was moving so slowly that I ended up counting my steps to the kitchen to distract myself. My hands were shaking and weak to the point that I had to hold the glass with both hands.

For about a second, I thought I felt a bit better, only for another wave of dizziness to smack me in my face. I ended up losing control of my grip and I dropped the glass. The cat shrieked, letting me know that it was following me. I was worried that it would have been hurt by the glass, but my body didn't let me think anymore.

Next thing I knew, I was laying down on a few pieces of shards on the floor. I felt an intense heat enveloping my whole body, while my eyelids wouldn't open any more even when I wanted them to.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

I thought I only had a mere fever. But why did it feel like I was dying? I have never ever been this sick in my entire life.

In some of the movies I've seen, sick people usually call out for their mother or any loved one they had, no matter how weak they were feeling. That was something I had always been envious of; why don't I have someone like that? Turns out, I don't have love for anyone--just like how no one feels love for me.

Because right now, as I'm thinking that I don't mind if the day I die is today, I don't feel regret about leaving anyone--except for a cat I have just met. But I'm tired. I don't think I still have the courage to survive.

If this fever does not kill me, I hope that I bleed out from the shards. I hope that if I am ever reincarnated, I will forget that I lived a miserable life. I hope my dead body will be discovered fast, so that the cat does not suffer for too long.

* * *

"What a mess you found yourself in, Almos."

"Meow. . ."

"Hmm, a human who seeks death, not something new is it?"

Heavy footsteps neared the girl that was lying on the floor. The man cloaked in black crouched down, the silver rings that adorned his fingers made a crisp sound as he lifted the girl. His unfeeling eyes looked at the girl's pale face, and a smirk emerged from his lips.

"How interesting," he mused, "a human, but also not fully human."

"Meow. . ."

"I know, Almos. I thank you for this find. Now, let's get back to Mavros, shall we?"