Mistake
by Waiting for my Munkustrap
I found it on my way back to the den: a sign. I know it has to be. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I recognize the skull and crossbones well enough. Whatever is in this little amber bottle, it's deadly. Just what I need.
I needed a walk to clear my head. I was having those thoughts again – you know, the bad ones? I thought a walk would calm me down, maybe even remind me of some reasons to live. Instead, I found this, and I knew for certain…
…today is the day…
…and now the time.
I'm so tired. I'm tired of the flashbacks. I'm tired of the memories. I'm tired of seeing him in every tom I see. I'm tired of hating myself for trusting him. I'm tired of thinking – of knowing – that it's my fault. I'm tired of loathing every fiber of my being. I'm so tired.
Am I selfish? Maybe. But isn't it selfish of them to try to force me to stay when I'm tired? So tired. Miserable. Constantly. No end in sight.
I look at my reflection in the broken mirror, but I am not Demeter. Not anymore. I'm a parasite that took over her body. I see her face. I see her gold and black fur. I see my dead eyes. Demeter doesn't live here, anymore. Or, if she does, Everlasting Cat help her, because I'm in charge now, and I'm tired. So, so tired.
They'll be better off without me, anyway. They don't think they will, but…they just don't know it, yet.
I take the cool, glass bottle in my paws. Slowly, I twist the cap off. I am dangerously resolved. There is no question in my mind. I bring the bottle to my lips.
There was a time in my life when I thought I would never be capable of this.
I feel a jolt of fear as I pass the point of no return. I've done it. There's no going back now.
My body feels sick, but my brain feels free as I slip deeper and deeper into death. No more Demeter. No more Macavity. No more memories. No longer tired.
My eyes flutter closed. I'm almost there. It's almost over.
"Demeter?"
I'm too far gone to respond to the voice. I struggle to open my eyes, to see my queenfriend one last time.
"Oh, Everlasting Cat!" she cries, her voice shaky. She falls to the floor beside me and gathers my failing body in her arms. "It's okay. It's okay. She'll be fine. She'll be fine," she repeats to herself.
I feel her body tense up, followed by a miserable cry and the shattering of glass. She has thrown the bottle of poison across the den. I'm growing dizzier and dizzier, as she rocks back and forth with me in her arms.
"Deme, Deme, Deme," she sobs. "Why? Why? I love you so much."
She grabs my wrist to feel for my pulse. It's the last thing I feel, before my body goes numb. Even her cries seem to come from farther and farther away. I'm going quickly. I wish I wouldn't. I want to hear her voice.
And in that moment, before everything goes silent, I realize…
I've made a mistake.
