The Cat in the Room

The cat was staring furiously through the closed window. Lights outside were brighter, popping out the eyes and attracting the absent-minded. For long, she was complaining about the life in the inside. She was not made for this stuffy den, not made to live like a rabbit in a tiny warren, especially now when she was totally aware of what was going around in the other side through the little hole. For long, she had been on stage, spending time pretending and acting in scenes that never came to an end. Pretending to be his friend and taking the room as her doomed prison that she would never escape. Daily she was forced to amuse Mr.Bossie in his old armchair and daily she was a lifeless clown lounging around.

The cat kept meowing and screaming off her head to be heard far away, outside the closed room. Accustomed to the noise and her little tricks, Mr. Bossie was lolling calmly about, a cigarette in one hand and the cat’s fate in the other. “ Come, Catty. Let’s watch TV!” she heard day in and day out. She was bored with his sweet sillies, fed up with film fantasies and serial love stories. Out of this exposure, she became acquainted with every story and every TV presenter. But this was not what she wanted, this not it at all. She, a living creature full of beans, could not stand it any more. Silently, she jumped on his lap to play the dirty game once more. She wanted to jump and scratch his cheeky face. But she realized that it was not the right time. It was the silence that preceded the storm; the silence warmed his heart and in the meanwhile it energized her suppressed desire to revolt.

“ What ‘ s up, cat? Why are you in a bad mood?”

Silence broke through. The cat was again hypnotised, immersed in the film on TV: blond fish, clean and large dens, and delicious pots of milk. From now and then, she threw a glimpse through the closed window; she perceived stormy waters all around the room. “ I am in a real trap. I will never be out,” she thought. She usually wondered why Mr.Bossie was at home here, but no answer crossed her mind. Was he blind? Mad? Or a prisoner? Things got blurred on her mind and she concentrated on the film once again.

“ Are you hungry? Take some popcorn! Take!”

He got no answer. Briskly she jumped to the door, scratching the door with her claws and leaning her head on its panel when she felt exhausted. Mr.Bossie did not get the message or pretended not to understand. He ignored her and went to a cracked mirror beside his cluttered bed. He saw himself as a handsome man. The man loved the mirror and the mirror loved the man. He started caressing it and giving lavish kisses. With a strange frown on her face, the cat moved slowly to her usual place under his bed.

A candle was lighting the poorly furnished room. Mr. Bossie ‘s dirty clothes were scattered all around; unread books covered the dusty ground; old slices of bread were decorating the top of the little set and popcorn was dispersed all over the bed. In short, the room was in a total disorder. Since the last flood, the room had been isolated on the peak of Siba hills losing all contact with the outside. Water blocked both the door and the little window and no one was able to break through. In fact, Mr. Bossie never dared to force it out. He seemed to enjoy the little prison.

“What a beautiful man I am! Tomorrow I’m going to change my haircut. I’ll look like a prince Ha! Ha!” he pointed out to his ego on the mirror surface.

“Tomorrow is my birthday! Yes, I’m going to have a party. But how old am I? Still young, still young! Yeah! I’m going to invite my dead parents, my future wife, my cat, all my friends, my auntie Tigress…No! No! No! Not auntie again! She will never see me. No! I hate Tigress! Did you hear me? I hate her to death! No auntie here!”

Mr. Bossie was really furious; he held the mirror firmly in his hands and started shouting again,

“No auntie! Never mention her name in my room! I’ll kill her if she comes in. Did you get me, Mary?”

His shouting bombarded the room and tuned with the sound of waters outside and the rising crashes of the wind. The cat stood in fear and trembling and gaped at her boss.

White spume was leaking from his wide mouth. To put his anger into practice, he wanted to beat something nearby. He kicked his coffee-table and shouted out,

"Where are you, Catty? Come out quickly. Close the door. Don´ t let Tigress in. Quick. Quick"

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Bossie checked both the door and the window. They were firmly shut. On his way to his bed, he kicked the cat harshly. Meowing and sobbing began again. But the kick was so painful this time. She was lying on the floor for some time.

“Shut up I want to sleep a bit. We will have a busy day tomorrow. Go to bed and be ready for the party. You are also invited”, said Mr. Bossie arrogantly.

The moon was looming large in the dark sky. The sound of thunder was heard loudly outside. The weather inside was freezing and stuffy. The light of the candle was so dim; it was reaching its end. She gave a glimpse through the small hole in the closed window; it was her unique thread that she had with the outside.

It is the right time. I cannot stand more than that. Enough is enough she thought

She frowned at Mr.Bossie, who was snoring deeply in his bed. She looked twice at her claws, her only weapons against the enemy. Her teeth were sharp and thin. She was raising her tail up and took a deep breath. Like an experienced soldier, she stood up straight and fixed her eyes on the foe. Without any further thoughts and regardless of any subsequent consequences, she jumped on Mr. Bossie's head, scratching and biting with all her strength. The revolution started. Mr. Bossie, scared at the outset, fought back, kicking and squeezing the cat's throat between his sturdy hands. Within a few minutes, the cat was dead. Mr. Bossie's strength and height were in his favor for the first time. He cursed the day he was brought in this room and cursed even the day of his birth. Bloodshed took place in the closed room. Mr. Bossie enjoyed the scene and started beating up the dead, bloody cat.

"Take! Take! Take! You are going to regret it like Tigress. Take!“

Being sure that the enemy was completely over, he stood up proudly near his mirror. He felt a strong desire to celebrate his victory. A convulsion shook him and he scrabbled at the ground, covering himself in a mask of dust and blood. Then he was still again. On the mirror surface he perceived a disgusting, frightening face. Out of anger, he smashed the mirror with one of his fists and knelt down, screaming, “Never, I will never invite this damn cat to my party”.