She Came Back.

The day began like any other. The house began to fill with light as we uncurled, yawned and stretched. I jumped lightly onto our humans' bed while Woody began his chorus of howls from the doorway. Our humans stirred briefly, and feigned continued sleep. After gentle nuzzling produced no results, a direct, heavy step on the woman's bladder was necessary. She scowled, looked at the clock and slowly sat up. We rubbed up against her legs as she scuffled into the kitchen and poured kibble into our dishes. Both of us got an affectionate pat on the head as we ate.

Soon both humans were awake, showered and dressed. They sat at the kitchen table to eat their (much superior) breakfast and gave us small scraps of bacon. The radio droned in the background. After licking the bacon fat off our faces, we sat in our usual spots to groom and think about our next nap.

The doorbell rang, as I was in mid-lick; my leg high in the air, like a ballet dancer. I heard the girl before I saw her. Two different humans and the girl entered the house. She had her back to us as the mother removed her coat and shoes. Woody's hackles rose as he hissed, turned and ran upstairs. I froze with fear and remembrance…

...of being carried around by my neck, her chubby hands closing on my throat, having my tail pulled, footpads tickled, fur roughed up, chased from room to room, dragged out of hiding spots, woken up, hunted by her, crowing all the while "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty"…

I ran after Woody, and soon found him scrabbling at a sliding closet door, desperate for a hiding spot. Together we managed to squeeze through the open space and buried ourselves deep in the closet. We heard the girls' parents leave the house without the girl. Our humans told the girl to leave us alone. They adopted us, rescued us from this girl. They wouldn't let anything happen to us. Their voices receded into a different part of the house and we slowly relaxed.

A short while later, the closet door slid open and we blinked in the sudden brightness. A hand reached in and poked me in the belly. Her other hand reached in and pulled me from my perch. I wasn't a kitten anymore, so she couldn't hold on to me. I wriggled free and ran under the bed. The man entered the room and spoke harshly to the girl, repeating his request to leave us alone. He took the girl's hand and pulled her from the room, closing the door behind them.

Woody slowly emerged from the open closet; tail twitching, and joined me under the bed. Both of us had done our best to block out the memories, but now she was back.

We were two months old at the time. Somehow she was immune to our scratching. She picked us up when we were still asleep. We thought we were in for the usual rough treatment, but this time was different. She shoved us into the white bathroom - the one room that had no place to hide. We scratched at the door and cried, but nobody let us out. We curled up in the sink and waited.

She came back with a bigger girl we hadn't seen before. They dumped a bag into the bathtub and quickly closed the door. We huddled in the sink, hoping that they wouldn't see us. But of course they did. The little girl grabbed me first and held me still as the big girl pulled doll clothes onto me, forcefully bending my legs. I managed to escape at one point, and jumped into the tub, but they soon grabbed me. Woody put up even more of a fight than I did, and tried to scratch and bite. The deep growls that emanated from his throat frightened me but only seemed to amuse the girls. We quickly learned that struggling was useless. I cannot even describe the indignities that took place once we were fully dressed.

By the time it was over, we couldn't even look at each other.

Back under the bed, we slept fitfully, taking turns watching the closed door. It creaked open, and we saw her little feet walk over to the bed. She then dropped to her hands and knees and peered at us. We ran to the door and through the hallway, the girl running after us. Up and down, through the house we ran, knocking over lamps, our claws skittering on the wood floor. We heard our humans yell at the girl, demand that she stop. She didn't listen to them, and continued to chase us.

Finally we were cornered in the kitchen. As I backed up, I growled and hissed. She snickered and reached out her hand. I bit her. I bit her harder than I had ever bit anything in my life. I tasted blood as I heard her scream. The woman swept up the girl and took her to the bathroom. The man grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and carried me upstairs. Woody slinked along beside us. When we reached the bedroom he gently dropped me on the bed and walked out. I crawled under the duvet.

He soon returned and quietly closed the door. I trembled as he flipped the edge of the duvet, reached out to me, and softly patted my head. I heard a familiar crinkle of cat treats and a small pile of them landed in front of my nose. He sprinkled some more for Woody and we ate them quickly. The man sat on the edge of the bed, shaking with laughter. "That little brat finally got what was coming to her. I'm glad you bit her – I've always told her that if she didn't leave you alone she would get bitten one of these days."

The girl left. A hushed peace reigned over the house.

Contributed by Heather Hewer
Photograph from Found.com