I remember being Garfield.

I remember the happy days I spent with my human Jon as a kitten. The love he showed me, I meant the world to him. He meant the world to me. Because, even though his cooking was rather bad, there was one dish he could make great every time. Lasagna! I loved Jon's lasagna, a quick recipe he perfected over his time as my owner. I loved eating all Italian food; pizza, Ravioli, and of course; Spaghetti and meatballs. But I grew attached to lasagna most of all. If I was to crave anything it was Jon's freshly baked lasagna. I grew pulmp so fast napping and eating, that one day Jon had enough.

"Garfield," Jon would say, "You're going on a diet."

Little did he know, no matter what he tried I never lost a pound. I stayed exactly as fat as I want to be. Weirdly, I loved being so plump. I especially loved belly rubs for some reason, although I can't imagine why. Diet after diet, month after month, I stayed just as big-bellied as I was before. That is until one day when I thought Jon gave up.

"Alright Garfield," he said, "since I can't make you loose weight. I'll try it your way. I'll make as much lasagna as you can eat every day."

I thought I was dreaming, I thought Jon had lost his mind. But no, He kept his word. The day after that, Jon served me a piping hot plate of his new recipe the "Every-meal" Lasagna. One bite and it was amazing. I gobbled that whole tray down. I felt so full I took a nap.

I remember Gorefield.

As I dozed off, I could feel my body fat grow at an increased speed. Then I saw HIM in my dream. He almost looked like me, except, he had spikes where his strips where, his mouth was hanging agape, rows, and rows of sharp teeth in his mouth. A snake-like tongue dangling down. His belly was the biggest, flabbiest and most prominent feature. His sharp claws on each end of his paws.

"Hello Garfield," The Eldredge abomination spoke, "I am the demon of gluttony, Gorefield. In case you haven't noticed, I have put a fat deposit of mine in you. I can't help but grow and grow. I am going to take your body like mine."

"How would you do that," I wondered.

"When you get fat enough," Gorefield answered, poking his claw at Garfield's belly, "you will begin to crave to eat Jon. When you do, I will take your body."

I didn't want to believe him, but my stomach was getting empty at the sharp talion. That snapped me out of denial and straight into a panic. My flabby belly was my guide, my anchor, and my closest link to Jon. If Gorefield cursed the fat that I had prided myself in, I would have to fight. I woke up, still very hungry. For the rest of the day, I couldn't nap. I was so scared to see Gorefield again. I would still eat though; I was practically starving. I rubbed my belly that night, thinking. I felt my body was now very plump. I was tired but falling asleep was nearly imposable. I was only lulled to sleep once I finally reasoned it was just a nightmare and didn't mean anything. I drifted off to sleep and saw HIM again, laughing a horrible laugh.

"Oh, you have no idea," Gorefield said, "Do you?"

"I honestly don't," I mentally admitted.

"Let me tell you in a way you can't possibly misunderstand," Gorefield said poking my belly and holding it there causing my stomach to empty, "I've cursed you to be my vessel once you have become so plump and hungry you eat Jon."

"Oh no," I thought, "not Jon."

"It is your destiny," Gorefield bragged, digging the point in my fat and managed to slip it right to my stomach. To say it was a hunger pain would an understatement. I. Was. Starving. Painfully. It was the only thing on my mind except for dread and fear. I woke up in a cold sweat, my belly rumbling. I knew what I had to do. I had to resist Gorefield's curse. What I wasn't sure of was how. My hunger was ravenous, but Jon served me that "Every-meal" Lasagna. I ate some of it but could hear Gorefield laugh wickedly at the edge of my senses. I had to stop eating.

"What's wrong Garfield," Jon asked, "You're getting full?"

No, I was still very hungry, but not for my favorite dish. Gorefield was making me crave Jon! Jon put the rest of the pasta away. I had thought about it all. I didn't want Jon to be eaten. I had to lose weight and fast. I started exercising, which took every ounce of lazy right out, I started sleeping less, and I even refused to eat under the precursor of already eaten.

I wish that was the end of it. But,

I remember the nightmare

I tried to keep all my sleep at night. Resisting the urge to nap. But when I've been exercising for a long time and I successfully filled my shrinking belly. One day, I pushed myself too hard, and I was so tired, I had to sleep it off. I drifted off quickly. I felt just how fat Gorefield had forced me to become. I felt Jon had his hand on my belly. I. Was. Starving! My empty stomach was the only thing on my mind. I open my eyes to see Jon, who looked tasty. I tried to fight it, but I could feel myself transform into Gorefield! My hunger was now ravenous beyond anything I've ever felt. I picked up Jon in my now giant claws.

"I'm sorry Jon," I said, the first words I've ever spoken to him, "Garfield is gone. There's only Gorefield now."

I ate Jon!

The next day I woke up in a cold sweat. What was I going to do? The longer I stayed with Jon, the more tempting it will be to eat him and become Gorefield. So, I did the only thing I knew I could do. I hopped out of bed and ran out the door.

I remember running.

I ran and ran. I ran far away from the house. Far from my neighborhood. I ran far, far, far away. I ran until I had expended all the energy in my body. I ran until I felt like I couldn't be found. I was so tired and hungry. I didn't recognize my surroundings at all. So I hid, inside a cardboard box as the rain began to descend from the sky.

I remember hiding.

I stayed hidden for what seemed like forever. Hungry. I just heard Gorefield's twisted laughter grow into silence. All that was left was my growling belly and my fear.

"I'm not going back," I thought to myself, "I need to start over someplace where I can stay skinny."

I began to call out the only way a cat could.

"Meow," I cried, as if the yell for help, "Me-e-eow!"

Thunder rumbled, seemingly to drown out my voice. But a woman stopped to listen.

"Me-row," My voice cracking in the cold.

The Woman came to me, she looked inside. I-it was, Liz? My Vet? No, just some lady.

The lady asked, "Who do we have here?"

I shirked from her reaching hand. I then rubbed my head up against her palm. She pets me gently. She pulled me by the back of my neck near my shoulders and in when limp. She set me in her arms and carried me out of the rain and into her home a few blocks down.