This is something I originally wrote in class, but I liked it so I rewrote it a few times. I think it's based off Sims 3: Pets, but I don't actually play the game. I'm not likely to add anything else to this. If you're going to flame, get me a pack of marshmallows as well. I love watching them burn on the stick. Is it just me or does anyone else find that entertaining?
Once upon a time, a man around the age of 25 lived alone in an old shack. He, Sal, was not a social person; none of his family was, but he was the worst. It hadn't always been that way. They had been a fairly normal family when his sister was alive. Six years ago she had been brutally murdered by a co-worker. Her death still hung over their heads, no matter how they tried to cope.
Life went on for all off them, though, and eventually Sal had found himself a job and a place to stay. Nothing unusual or particularly meaningful happened to him on the best of days. But today, today would be different.
Sal was walking back from work when it happened. He had glanced at a building, but his head was hanging down slightly, so he had seen the small open box nestled on the side of the old place between two larger boxes. The scrawny kitten that laid curled up in it looked far less comfortable. It's fur was matted and smudged with a dark reddish color in some places. Upon closer inspection, he found the cat unresponsive and it had a weak pulse.
It wasn't a difficult decision. Sal had hurried the cat to the vet without a second thought.
Now he sat in a corner of the waiting room, impatient and nervous. He didn't really know what it was that got him so worked up. It was just a cat. A tiny, fragile looking thing that was clearly in a lot of pain. It looked starved, abused. Sal closed his eyes. He was seeing connections that weren't there. He had been more emotional since the incident, no matter how many years passed.
Hours later, Sal was walking home in the faded sunlight. As it turned out, the kitten had been abused and had a small chance of recovering from its injuries. He had paid to have it taken care of; he wasn't necessarily poor, but most of the time he only spent money on what he really needed. In the mean time he would look for the owner. Sal doubted the previous owner would want the cat considering how he'd found it. If that were the case, and assuming the cat actually survived, he would keep it.
He knew he was being irrational. He wanted the cat to live even though it seemed pointless. His actions only prolonged its pain. At the same time, his sister had loved cats. His sister had also been found in a similar condition, but she had already been dead for days at that point. Sal felt stupid. He wasn't used to feeling so strongly about something, and about an animal. Of all the things he could stress over. He must have been seeing or trying to make connections between two things that were only slightly similar. But maybe... maybe if he could save this cat, maybe...
It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. But still...