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Cats Don't Smile

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I’m gonna be quick, since I don’t have much time, alright? I’m gonna be flat out and honest with you. It all started with my girlfriend moving in with me after we hit our 1st year as a couple. She wasn’t into marriage and neither was I, so of course we weren’t planning on getting any farther than this anytime soon. This was a huge step into our relationship, it was basically our way of saying we truly accept all our fetishes and faults and habits, and, one of my girlfriend’s fetishes were cats.

She loved cats. She used to say, ‘If you don't like cats, I don’t like you’. Although, because I hate cats to the point that I’d actually rather run myself over with a bulldozer then live with one up and personal, it was proven she didn’t mean it when she said that. But basically you get the point: she absolutely adored cats.

And since now that we had finally gotten our own place and ‘accepted all our traits’ I now apparently had to deal with a cat. Now, she knows I hate cats, so she did agree to lock our cat in this separate room in our house when it’s time to sleep and when I’m home alone. Those were her ground rules and I frankly didn’t have a problem.

The room she planned to lock the cat in was actually a room I’d never find myself using. It was the closest to the backyard, glass walls surrounding it, so it looked more like an attached greenhouse than anything.

Anyhow- this isn’t the point. The only thing you need to know is we were getting a cat, and the walls were see-through.

It was about three months ago when we finally decided it was time to go to the shelter and pick up one of those demonic live fur balls. I didn’t complain too much. It was only rare times like these where I’d see my girlfriend so happy.

By the time we got to the shelter there weren’t that many cats. The guy in the front claimed that cats were quite popular in this part of town, so it was actually really surprising there were some left. My girlfriend, not caring about anything besides the idea of getting her own cat, quickly made her way over to the selection.

I didn’t follow too fast; in fact, I didn’t even want to follow at all. When I reached my girlfriend, however, she was staring intently at a certain cage that most likely stood out to her more than the others. I knew what she was staring at would be the pet we took home, so I braced myself to see what I’d be spending my life with.

And I was shocked. Literally, 100% shocked. You see: my girlfriend likes cats for their optimism and the will to play and cuddle. Those are really all she looks for in a cat. And this one cat, that had managed to stuff itself in the far corner of its given litter box, definitely did not have those qualities.

The cat itself was actually quite fluffy, its unusual red-ish orange colored fur sticking out in inwardly places. Its ears were folded and practically buried in the fur so it looked earless, and its bright blue eyes narrowed at me.

I glanced over to my girlfriend and asked her if she was sure. She didn’t answer, so I asked again, this time a little more stern. The last thing I needed was a pissy cat that was only in my house for the luxury. The second time, she merely nodded, as if in a trance.

I sighed and made my way back to the employee. “Hey, man,” I had said, “she wants that red one that has made a nest in its litter box.” He had blinked, an unsure look on his face, and looked down into the hallway where my girlfriend stood still looking at the cat.

“Red cat? Uh, I don’t believe we have one of those.”

I wasn’t in the mood to play any games so I promptly told him to go see for himself and name the price so I could get out of that hell-hole as soon as possible. He didn’t have any hesitations to move around the counter and get that cat.

The second he opened the cage my girlfriend leaped to the cat and gathered it up in her arms. It didn’t move. It just kept that damned frown.

While I was signing the papers in an uncomfortable silence, the employee decided to speak up. “That’s strange,” he had laughed uneasily. “That cat was bought yesterday.”

“It obviously wasn’t, if it’s here now.”

“You’re right. Must’ve been my imagination.” He rubbed the back of his neck before turning to get the paperwork. He turns around and peeks at the cat sitting in my girlfriend's lap. “You guys sure about it? I mean, I’m more of a dog person, so I don’t really know much about cats, but that cat looks like a pain.”

I huffed in agreement and continued signing the papers. “Whatever she wants. I promised her that.”

He sighed and handed me the finalized certificate and a list of things we needed to get for that stupid feline, medication wise. “I’m guessing you don’t like cats?” He smirked.

“Hate them,” I replied before going to my girlfriend. The cat’s eyes followed me as I went over to her and offered to help her up, but she shook her head and got up with ease, cat still in her hands.

She didn’t talk the whole car ride. I guess I should’ve started to be concerned by that point, but strangely, I wasn’t.

That was three months ago, and my girlfriend’s actions had only gotten worse. It started with, ‘The cat doesn’t like when you sit there’, and ‘the cat doesn’t like when you touch that’ lectures. I thought it was just her cat-loving problem, but boy, was I wrong.

After one month of demon cat had passed, the whole ‘for the cat’ shit got worse. She was then buying movies and clothes and literal human mattresses for the cat. Eventually that glass room had more and more stuff that was totally irrational for a cat, like 14 potted plants and five bowls for five different kinds of drinks.

And here’s the weird thing- that cat didn’t use any of it. It just sat there, on the floor, not moving. At least, when it was locked in there. That brings me to that damned fucking cat. When my girlfriend wasn’t there worshiping that stupid animal like it was her lord and savior, it was locked up, just like she promised.

I was glad at first. I avoided the room at all costs, camping out in our bedroom on my laptop until she got home. But one day, I had to go get some water. And then I saw it.

That damn cat was smiling at me. Its eyes were no longer scrunched in an angry expression; they were wide like any normal happy animal’s eyes would be. Its tail swished from side to side slowly. But its smile… It was like a human smile. I’d never seen the cat eat before, so I wouldn’t have known for sure, but it looked like it had human teeth. Not pointed teeth like cats usually had. This cat had a grin stretched from one ear to the other, its full set of human adult teeth shining at me.

I thought it was just my imagination like any normal person would. My cat was the world’s grumpiest living thing on this planet, and I’d be shitting you if I didn’t say I wasn’t a little spooked. The smile looked so real… I should’ve known.

By month two my girlfriend had gotten worse, and I was deeply considering telling her to get rid of that fucking cat. She was now taking it out to the store with us, and on our late night car rides to get ice-cream and listen to music and vent out our hate on work or people we are forced to associate with. She even once and a while changed our favorite station on the radio, saying, “The cat doesn’t like this song”.

And that leads us to now. The cat still smiles, but… my girlfriend no longer does. She’s like a zombie. No emotion and her voice is always so monotone. The only feeling I’ve ever received from her is anger, and that’s only because we argue over that fucking cat. For example- 2 weeks ago. We’ve lost so much money, we are barely hanging on the expenses for this house, and all because she decided to buy that bitch of a pet a fucking flat screen TV- pardon my French.

Basically saying my girlfriend worships this cat. And now- now the girlfriend I love is gone.

It was last week on Thursday the first body appeared in our pool. It was our neighbor.

I had immediately called up my girlfriend and told her. She was so calm, and totally unfazed. I should’ve figured it out then. After the long rushed speech I made about how we needed to call the police, or at least tell someone, she replied-

“The cat didn’t like her.” And hung up.

I knew my girlfriend had killed our neighbor, and I was scared. I didn’t want to lose my girlfriend. She meant too much to me. So I let this slide, thinking this would only be a one-time thing.

It wasn’t a one-time thing. Two days later, my girlfriend’s boss appeared, floating face first in the bloodied water. I turned to enter the house, hands balled in rage, when I saw it. The fucking cat was smiling at me, this time more devilish, its eyes narrowed its smile wider than before.

When my girlfriend got home I had asked her about it. Her hand was still on the doorknob to the cat’s threshold when she turned and said in the same cold voice she had said over the phone, “He didn’t like the cat. The cat didn’t like him, either.”

From the corner of my eye, the cat smirked at me, before turning into its frozen grumpy glare when my girlfriend opened the door and picked it up in that weird gentle way she always used.

And that’s when I figured it out. My girlfriend’s goal in life was to always make people happy. And that cat knew that, it just- it knew. It knows. So it was unhappy on purpose to make her spoil it. It used her weakness to manipulate it- I swear.

Call me crazy. Don’t believe me. I don’t care. I know it’s true, and that’s enough for me. It’s enough to let me rest in peace.

I don’t think the door will withstand my girlfriend anymore. She always was so good at kickboxing. It’s funny, isn’t it? This is kinda like one of those horror movies we used to watch and make fun of. The crazy girlfriend killing her boyfriend. Better yet, killing over something stupid.

It doesn’t matter. It won’t matter to her, why should it matter to me? I was always on her side. And if she decides to kill me, then I’m not gonna stop her.

After all, the cat didn’t like me.

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