I thought I was a normal person, who lived a normal life in a normal home, with normal people.
But maybe I am normal.
Maybe I'm just seeing things.

Seeing Things

A while back, on a Friday night, I was playing video games in my living room. My parents and my two brothers had left to attend a basketball game in the city. I, for one, am not a sports fan, so I had no interest in going and had stayed home with my four-year old cat, Snook.

Snook is a big cat, weighing about fourteen pounds, and is tall for an average male cat. Although he is declawed in his front paws, he often didn't like to be petted and would leave big marks on my arm from his teeth and hind legs if I tried. Certain that he'd protect me or at least warn me if there was an intruder, I was not worried at all.

It was 8:30, and getting dark. My father texted me and said that he was going into overtime. That wasn't a problem for me, of course. It only meant more video game time. Snook was contently looking out the window of his cat condo.

A low growl came from Snook's throat, which startled me. Snook never growls, or hisses that much either. He isn't very territorial — actually, that's a lie, he's EXTREMELY territorial when it comes to other cats; he could care less about dogs, birds, humans, or anything else.

I paused my video game and walked over to the window to see what was going on. I kept my distance from Snook, just to safe in case he attacked me. The porch light was on, so I had perfect view of the driveway. Nothing. I looked over by the neighbor's yard, but his porch light was on as well — I saw no figure or thing in his yard. I thought nothing of it and returned to my game.

Snook didn't quit hissing though. This time I went and checked again. This time I saw a tail vanish under my mother's car. (My family had taken my father's truck to the basketball game.) I was confused. Snook was the only cat on my street. I knew my neighbors quite well. The people down the street did, in fact, have a cat once.

But it died two years ago.

I knew Snook couldn't be smelling a female cat in heat from the next street over. He's been fixed. Speaking of which, the cats from the next street over never venture far from their homes. My friend lives on the street, which is how I know.

I got up and went outside, which was a bad idea in the middle of the winter, considering I was only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. I saw nothing. I was about to head back in when I looked over my shoulder and glimpsed it.

A cat. It was a cat. I just stared at it, knowing it wouldn't appreciate being talked to or petted. The eyes were the thing I noticed most about it. Its eyes were quite large.

And chilling.

Very chilling.

I yelled for it to get, and it obeyed.

But the strange thing was...

It left no footprints in the snow.

I told the story to my friends at lunch on Monday. They thought I was silly and told me that they don't believe in that stuff.

I don't, either.

Maybe I'm just seeing things.

Written by Mossnose33
Content is available under CC BY-SA