THROUGH JONAS' EYES (WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE)

I remember the day the house went on fire. My good friend Merricat was always talking about getting rid of that annoying Charles fellow, and I knew she was going to do something serious to him if she couldn't rid of him soon. So far, Mary had tried magic words, voodoo, and other charms – not to mention destroying the room Charles was staying in. As her furry friend, I knew that the moment the house went up into flames that it was all the doing of Merricat. Nonetheless, the house's destruction was a memorable sight to behold.

I recall that I was on the dusty, wooden floor of the house sipping up creamy, cold milk from a silver bowl that reflected off what little light that entered the Blackwood abode. Mary, Constance, Julian, and Charles were engaged in a conversation to which I didn't intend to pay much attention. It was an argument that sounded a little heated because I could tell that not everyone was in their most joyous mood. I finished my beverage and decided to go snooze in the drawing room. I sneaked under the table, making sure not to disturb the feet of anyone seated around it. Charles stretched his feet out and blocked my way. I was now among the dull, metal wheels of Uncle Julian's chair, the unpredictable movements of Constance's feet, the leather shoes of Merricat, and the neatly polished shoes on the feet of Charles which I was sure had been in the closet of John Blackwood before Charles was even here. I then heard the man exclaim that there was smoke in the house. I took a whiff of the air, too, but I couldn't smell anything, probably because I was so small. Then, Charles ran upstairs into his room, and I dashed out through the space he had made. I heard him scream a rather frightened yell. He sprinted back down the ancient, Italian-carved steps of the staircase and rambled on about the house being on fire. Surprised, I turned to Merricat who didn't notice me but I felt had a delightful feeling of mischief about her. I finally began to smell a bit of smoke, and I saw that Constance was taking Julian to get his papers from his room. I concluded that it was high time for me to scram, and I sped out the back door. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Constance noticed me doing so.

I went near the slow-flowing path of the creek, the forest overwhelmed then with the wet and woodsy smell, the smoke arising from the house. The chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs added to the outdoor feeling of constant relaxation and caring trees of protection. I could see the soft patch of earth that Merricat had placed over one of her voodoo stones after Charles had excavated her lustrous and round silver dollars that I was so fond of. In Charles' room I could see nothing but bright orange reflections of a blaze off the blackening ceiling. I crept to the shadow of a tree and watched in awe, the sight of the burning estate. The fire was moving at a trance-like, fast-paced beat. The crackling flames sounded like the crunch of a saltine that Merricat would sneak to me under the table. I could now see the tips of the inferno stretching past the window sill. One of the windows was open, and the fire reached out, looking as if it was trying to grasp something that wasn't there. I turned my attention to the large group of people staring at the front of the house. It seemed, all of the villagers were watching in joy and amazement as Constance would over an appetizing plate of food. They were laughing and pointing at the house in such a mixture of amused voices that it was impossible to understand what each one of them was saying unless one raised their tone of voice. Charles was out there looking for people to help him retrieve the safe that was in the drawing room. I didn't see what he was so worried about; it was made out of metal. I could not see Merricat, Constance, or Julian and decided that they were probably still in the house, hiding from the villagers' mockery.

After much ado, a blaringly loud, crimson box on wheels arrived at the scene. There were men inside of the vehicle hopping out in bright yellow suits and carrying a long hose connected to the scarlet statue that the dogs always peed on. There was an upraise of disappointment among the crowd out front. They were shouting to let the house continue to burn. The firemen still continued to enter the house but by then I could see that the entire roof was toast. It was completely black; camouflaging with the evening sky only to be outlined by the twinkling stars and the consuming fire. I heard a shout, and a man at the statue turned the valve on the top of it. I immediately heard rapid splashing in the house. There was an excess of smoke coming out of the house escaping to the magnificent air that the blazing heat had held it from, and I was about to gag worse than I would on a hairball. The fire was lessening and I could see water blasting everywhere in the house. The men then reached the room, sprayed the water in there and the stream infiltrated every inch of fire. The water splashed out the open window and spattered on my smoky fur with the brisk liquid that came into high contrast with the choking smoke and heat emerging from my home. I quickly jumped after I had been wet and I went father into the woods to prevent getting any more soaked. Finally, the flames were extinguished and the firefighters left the house. One of the firemen however, went by the fire truck though, picked up a rock, and threw it at the house. Within seconds of his toss, I heard a deafening crash that shot through my ears. A moment of silence passed, laughing started and then everybody moved toward the house in a riot.

In fear, I ran as fast my paws could muster into a deeper spot in the woods. I clawed my way under a set of shrubbery while hearing jeering yells, chants, and crashes. I nestled myself under the protection of the bush and began to close my eyes, only to be awakened by the peaceful, yet disturbing, pang of the falling harp in the drawing room. There was more ruckus, but I was still far enough away to get myself some rest cuddled in the harboring foliage. After my nap, I woke up to peaceful silence. The woods were dark, shadowed, and smelled like an old fireplace. I crawled out of the bush and stared into the mysterious murkiness of the night in contrast with the twinkling stars in the sky. I heard a series of leaves crunching and twigs snapping; it was two figures headed my way. I could tell by their voices that it was Merricat and Constance. I wondered where Julian had gone off to but was comforted to see a little order at last. I walked toward the silhouettes of the two and gave a little purr. Mary realized at once that I was there. We were snug in our wooded hideout, and while Mary and Constance stirred, I fell asleep next to my long-awaited for Merricat.

This little piece of fiction comes from my mind but is related to the book called "We Have Always Lived In the Castle" by Shirley Jackson. Her book is told in Merricat's point of view but this short story is told in Jonas' point of view who, if you haven't figured out by now, is Merricat's feline friend. I also didn't know what a book X-over is so please if you are reading this don't erase it Sorry this story isn't as descriptive but it's not my story so I'm not sure of all the exact details. I do write my own stories though so check out my profile soon at as well (Check out the URL before).