Updated version. I thought this needed a slight tqeaking, so somethings are slightly OOC.

Stay here, He had told me.

So I stayed. I was a good girl. I did what He told without a question, without complaint.

I constantly wonder at how much power He has over me. He tells me to run; I run. He tells me to speak; I speak. And when I sing, I sing only for him. My mind, my heart, my soul are His and His alone.

Yet there are times when I feel scared, almost terrified. Because I know that if He tells me to murder somebody, I would do it. If He told me to kill myself, I would do it.

Am I mad? There are times when I could feel my grasp on sanity weaken, my mind scrabbling at the edges of madness, desperate to force away the overwhelming taint.

So I wandered aimlessly around the room. The only source of light came from a few flickering candles scattered here and there, illuminating patches of the dim area. I wandered over to the organ sitting in the corner. It was his prized possession

I could not suppress my shudder every time I was alone in there though. From the corner of my eyes, I could still see the black coffin shaped box.

A Cat Basket, He had said. But I knew He was lying, yet did I trust myself enough to face the truth? No. Much easier to believe in what I want to see, than the cruel reality.

I turned and sat down gingerly on the edge of the seat which stood before the organ. I caressed the ivory keys gently; not pressing down in fear that He might hear me.

I jumped back in surprise as the strange pale-coloured cat leapt onto the organ, her paws creating a jarring chord in the silence. I jerked, and twisted around, my eyes darting wildly around the room. I strained my ears, trying to hear any sound that might signify His return.

After a moment, I calmed down slightly. It seemed that He did not hear. I gave a small sigh in relief, and turned back to face to organ.

The cat was still there.

She looked at me with quiet contempt, most likely wondering why I did not curl up and sleep in His absence. I gave her a small glare, which she promptly returned with her light blue eyes without any hesitation.

Sometimes, I felt like I was in the presence of a Queen around her. Maybe it's because He treated her like a lady, pampering her, giving into her every need.

I can remember the first time I had tried to pat her. I can remember how my hand had throbbed for three days after she had taken a swipe at it.

But now, occasionally, she would even let me stroke her fur, but she studiously ignores me when He is in the room. She laps up His attention, basking in that warmth. And how He reacted to her!

Oh, sometimes, I do sorely wish that it was me who was in her position, me who was receiving His attention.

She is a very beautiful creature though, but slightly unusual. I had never seen a Siamese cat before, though it did seem fitting for Him to own such a graceful creature, something so very lovely and unique.

I watched as she leapt back up to the top of the organ, stretching as her jaw dropped in a yawn. Her collar glinted in the candle light; throwing shining sparks across the gloomy room.

Apparently, that collar was once to property of the Shah of Persia. It was encrusted with huge diamonds, just like a necklace.

It must be worth a fortune…I did wonder how He managed to acquire such a piece.

I would never give any pet a collar like that though. Far too gaudy, I would've thought, but somehow, this particular piece suited her marvelously. His taste was seldom lacking.

Still, I was jealous of her calm, blissful animal ignorance.

Cats don't bother to look ahead into the future, or complicate their lives with thoughts of doubt and uncertainty.

They only live in the present, and only for the present.

They know exactly what they want, and they take it.

Like His affection, His attention…

I must have been mad.

But how I wished…

Oh, how I wished I was that cat!

A/N: Prefer this one or the older one better?