Garfield was asleep in his bed. His bed was only a box and not a real bed. Garfield's bed made him sad. He was sad that he didn't have a real bed, and he was sad that Jon didn't love him enough to get him a real bed. To be fair though there wasn't a lot that didn't make garfield sad. He lived with Jon, and most times seemed to be Jon's only friend. Even Garfield knew that this was sad. Garfield didn't want to get up. He just didn't even see the point. And not just the point to getting up, but the point to his entire life. He was trapped in this house with that imbecile Jon, and the terrible dog Odie. He always wished that his life would change that it would get better, but it never did. Every day Garfield woke up got out of bed and ate. Then he had to deal with Jon, who spent more time talking to him than interacting with other humans. Garfield partially blamed Jon for his boring pointless existence. He had met other cats before, and they had always told him about all the humans they had met, all the things they had done, all the toys they had. Some of them had other cats to play with. Garfield only had Jon, and what a sad fate that was. Week after week it was the same, deal with Jon and his pitiful existence. This was one reason that Garfield hated mondays. He would wake up hoping that the world was bright and new, that everything would have changed for the better. But it never did. He always woke up on Mondays to his same pathetic boring life.
Garfield really didn't want to get out of bed, but he was experiencing continuing discomfort from his stomach. He was starving. Garfield had not eaten in several days. Jon always made fun of him for being fat, and got angry at him for eating so much food. Even though Garfield hated Jon, these words still hurt him. They stung him deep in his soul and every time he went to eat he was hit by an overwhelming feeling of shame. He could not even bring himself to eat when he was presented with Lasagna. This hurt more even than his stomach now. Garfield hardly ever had the chance to eat lasagna even though he loved it so much. He loved the way that the sauce caressed the ample curves of the pasta, and the way that the cheese oozed gently out from between the layers. To look at it and not eat it, gave him a powerful pain and yearning in his soul.
Garfield slowly rolled out of his bed. He used to climb out, but with he fat form, he could now just roll over the side. And since he had not eaten in days he hardly had the strength to lift up his body. He slowly moved over to his food bowl. He decided that he could not go another day without eating. He loved food so much, and he had allowed Jon to take a way the one thing he loved in life. He had allowed the one thing that he enjoyed, out of all the great pains of living to be lost. He had looked at a lasagna, an exquisite luscious lasagna and let it pass. He gulped up the food that was in his bowl, it repulsed him but he was too hungry not to eat. He ate the disgusting brown cat food in the bowl in front of him and filled himself up. But then out of disgust with himself and his life he kept eating. He ata and ate and ate, util the pain was greater than before. Garfield could not bare to live with himself, especially not in the nightmare world created for him by Jon. But what could he do. Garfield slowly moved back to his bed and lay down.
Not to long after that he heard the door open and close. He slowly got up and rolled out of his bed and walked over to great Jon. He may hate Jon and everything about him, but his arrival home was one of the few that broke up Garfield's uneventful days. Upon seeing jon Garfield felt even more repulsed and depressed than before. As Jon lent down to pat him Garfield could not contain his disgust and vomited all over the counter that he was sitting on. Because of his weakened state he also vomited blood. When Jon saw the blood he jumped back from Garfield seeming almost as disgusted as Garfield was. He quickly called the vet because he could not bare to lose garfield, the being that showed him any compassion or mercy, even though he knew somewhere in his heart that even Garfield hated him. Jon was sitting in the animal hospital, when the veterinarian walked out into the waiting room. She said that she wanted to speak to him. She told him that Garfield was dead, he had died of sadness, boredom, and overeating, and nutrient deficiency. Jon could not contain himself, and began to cry. He realized because he was so pathetic he had lost his one friend in the world. It was all his, jons fault. Jon was a monster. Jon had killed Garfield. Garfield deserved so much better than Jon. I watched Jon crying from my chair near him in the was strange to me that I was here on the day that Garfield Died. I had also been there on the day that garfield was adopted, and I had wanted to adopt, but jon had gotten to him first.. He shouldn't have. He didn't deserve Garfield I did. Garfield, the greatest cat of all time should have belonged to me.
