He is my disease. He captures my heart in a web of lies, and doesn't let go. He stops me from sleeping at night. He never lets me rest. When I find a way to escape him for a bit, all I think of is freedom. The word that rings joy. The word that sings of happiness and real love. That word is all I want. Freedom. Many people think we are best friends. How wrong they are. How could we ever like each other? If we were not connected in the way we were, I would be miles away. Not just miles: countries, oceans, planets, universes! Anything to be out of his grasp, out of his rule. Anything.

She is my disease. She is always there, tugging on my sole, never letting go. Her presence stops me sleeping at night. She never lets me rest. She is always struggling against me, but I would be rid of her if I could. If only I could. I wish I could be free. The word that rings joy. The word that sings of happiness and love. That word is all I want. Freedom. Everyone else thinks she is my best friend. How could they be any more wrong? How could we ever be close? I never chose to be part of her. Why did she have to come and ruin my life? If I could, I would cast her away, millions of miles. Anything to be free of that cat who was forced into my life. Anything.

I know he hates me. He has made it known. When I tried to talk to him, when I first became part of him, thinking that we could be friends, he ignored me. Again and again he blocked out my friendly words, oblivious, it seemed, to my futile efforts. Every since, I have done the same to him. Serves him right. Not that he wants to talk to me anyway. I haven't heard his voice talking me for as long as I can remember. And when he is forced to look at me, all I see is cold, hard hatred in his eyes. When I first saw that stare, I was startled by it. I didn't think someone could hate another person that much. But now I know how it feels. I hate him.

When she first came into my life, I thought that if I just ignored her, she would go away. If I pretended she wasn't there, my wishes would come true. But I knew it wouldn't happen. That thought was always there, nagging at me to confront it and face my worst fear: she will be with me for as long as I live. Still now, I am fighting against it, telling myself over and over again that nothing lasts forever. Nothing. But it's been over ten years now since we were together. We haven't spoken for at least six of them. I don't think she has even tried. Whenever we are forced to look at each other, I try to pretend to the others that I like her: they would be horror-struck if they knew the truth, but deep inside I still hate her. Oh, how I hate her.

Everyday I find myself wishing that I was dead. Anything could be better than being stuck with that cat! I wish I hadn't even been born in the first place. I can't remember much about my birth. I don't think I had a mother, otherwise I wouldn't be a part of another cat, certainly not half way through his life anyway. I cannot remember a time when I was not with him, so something must have happened at my birth. I had a dream once about it. I was in a giant room made of metal with bubbling liquids and chemicals all around me. I was trapped in a glass tube. There were humans there. They were examining me with looks of delight. I heard one of them say ‘we've done it!' and then they went. I climbed out and saw him. The second I did I felt something of mine move into him and a new thing took it's place. I wish I had never set eyes on him.

Whenever anything goes wrong in my life, I blame it on her. I know it isn't her fault, but it makes me feel good to abuse her. She deserves it. Then, when things don't get better, I blame the humans. It's partly their fault, I guess, that I became attached to her. I used to love humans. They were the people who fed me and cared for me when I was still a kitten. I remember, I had a little girl. She had long, soft hair that she used to flick at me and laugh when I played with it. She was always there, and she still loved me, even when I was naughty. Once I ruined her best dress and all she did was smile when she found me and helped me untangle myself. I loved her more than anything else. But all good things must come to an end.

Most of the cats in the tribe go home at night to sleep in their houses. I don't have a house to live in. I don't have a human to snuggle up with at night. I sleep at the Junkyard and snuggle up to myself, trying to draw warmth from the air around me. I often get cold, but I don't complain. I would rather this that live with a human. I hate humans. They are the reason I am stuck here, the reason why I'm always angry. They were the first things I saw when I entered the world. They looked delighted to see me and I mewed happily, knowing by instinct that they were what I wanted: a loving owner. But they quickly when away, leaving me with - him. When they came back, there were more people with them. They examined me, poked me and put loud, whirring instruments around me. I was terrified and tried to let them know, but they just held me down firmer. They treated me like a rat, turning me over without caring what I felt. I will never trust a human again.

One day, when the girl was still my owner, I was on a walk when a dog suddenly decided that I was to be his next victim and chased me all around the village. Eventually, even though something was telling me not to, I leapt out into the road and aimed to climb a tree on the other side. But I never got there. A car came around the corner just at that moment. The dog, who still behind me, got the full blow and was killed instantly. I was trapped underneath his body when the car ran over it. I lost consciousness at that point. When I woke up I hurt all over and I could move any part of my body except for my eyes, and even then everything was blurry. It took me a while to realise that all my limbs were in casts. Then everything came back to me: the dog, the chase, the tree, the car... I gave a sudden jerk, wanting to know where my girl was, and a woman came to me. She started talking to me in this falsely cheery voice about how good it was that I was finally awake. Later that day my girl came to see me. She was crying at first but eventually smiled when I licked her hand. She stayed there for hours, stroking me and talking to me. She put up such a fight when she was told she had to go. I was told by one of the other cats in the room afterwards that she had to be dragged away from me. I wanted her to stay and started mewing, instinct telling me that, after that day, I would never see her again.

They finally left me in peace. A different woman came in, one with a gentler touch, and put me in a little cage. It was quite comfy, with food, water and toys, but he was in with me. We didn't talk much that first day: I was much too tired and he avoided me. Perhaps he had felt that strange sensation when we first saw each other too and was afraid of me. That's what I thought at first, but as the days went on it became clear that he wanted nothing more to do with me. I tried talking to him, but he was stronger and bigger than me and pushed me away. One day, about a year after, I ran away. To this day, I don't know how I did it. The place was closely watched, and I had guards day and night. But somehow I managed to squeeze between them and was free.

The next thing I know, I was in a huge white room, surrounded by people in white coats. I don't know how I got there, or what they were doing to me, but I didn't like it. I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but it sounded something like ‘DNA' and ‘Clone', whatever they mean. Everyday they gave me injections. I couldn't stand it! Kept in cage with artificial, plastic food and chemical water. No care, no attention, no love. I lost track of all time while I was there, but I must have been there at least a year before she came. I will never know how she came. There was just a large white sack shaped like an egg that appeared one day. After a week or two it started to hatch and another cat, her, who looked exactly like me came out, mewing. The next day she was put in the cage with me and shared my daily routine. But I had nothing to do with her. To tell you the truth, she scared me slightly. She hadn't been born normally, and every time I looked at her, it was like I was losing a part of myself. The day she ran away was bliss. I was free again! But that night I became ill. Something inside me was being eaten away, being pulled out. I didn't know what to do.

As soon as I smelt my first breath of fresh air, I knew that that was where I was meant to be. Not cooped up in some lab, but out in the open, doing my own thing and wandering where I wanted to. But as I got further and further away from my prison, something inside of me started aching. It was as if I was holding onto one end of a piece of string and someone else the other and we were moving away from each other, taunting the string. But the string was inside of me and it got to the point where I couldn't go on. It was hurting too much. I turned back and, faster now, as if something was pulling me along, I started back for the lab.