One’s life usually begins when taking a first breath, opening one’s eyes and catching a first glimpse of the world. My life began on that sweltering summer day when I saw her at the fair.

I was sitting where the man with the rough hands had placed me when she walked up to me, her parents trailing behind her short paces. “Which one do you want?” her mother asked, and the girl’s eyes scoured over my humble table, and our eyes met for the first time. She couldn’t have been older than ten, and her raspberry lips curved into a toothy grin. “The little white cat,” said the sweetest voice my plush ears had ever heard, “I want him.” She gingerly lifted me up from my eyesore of a stand and held me in her dainty arms. Her soft touch was a world of difference from the man who gruffly handled me before. I was now hers, and she was now mine.

My new position was on the girl’s comforter, next to a purple pillow. The girl and I had become inseparable, and wherever she was, I was never far. Every day, we would gaze at the city streets, and every night, she held me with the same velvet touch from the fair. The girl’s room had white walls paired with a tall window from which sunlight seeped through. I was so happy. I think she was happy, too. Her round eyes were deep pools of gold, and the sunshine on the carpet paled in comparison to their brightness.

The girl had another feline companion, I discovered. I had been peering out the window when a mass of fur abruptly leaped onto the bed, knocking over the purple pillow. The shape spun and revealed itself to be a cat – a rather hefty one, sporting a brush-like tail. Its murky eyes widened at the sight of me, before squinting menacingly. “And what is this?” the cat snarled, feathery tail twitching. Where was the girl?  “What is your name?” it asked again, not much friendlier than before. “I am hers.” I told its unmoving eyes. I wished this cat would leave. “You don’t mean the girl, right? I reckon you don’t even have a name.” I stayed silent. It was true; the girl referred to me only as ‘the cat’. “I’ve got a name. It’s Percy, she calls me that everyday.” Percy’s eyes still hadn’t shifted, and they pierced me, word by word. “You are not hers,” he finally spoke, “don’t forget that.” He then sprung to the floor, and was gone as quickly as he had come. That night, as the girl held me with her little hands, those words were all I heard. “You are not hers,” the stars outside the window seemed to whisper, “you are not hers.”

As seasons passed, the girl began to change. Pictures soon littered the bedroom walls, and the purple pillow disappeared. Her amber eyes often seemed tired, and her tender smile was a rare sight as months crept by. However, we would sometimes sit together and watch the city life bustle unceasingly, and I knew she was still the same girl from the fair. “Cat,” she told me one afternoon, “I wish things would just stay the same.” She turned to look at me as she spoke. Her golden eyes dimmed slightly over the years, as did the lighthearted air that once engulfed her. “I will never leave,” I answered, “I will always be yours.” I needed her to know that so bad. But, she could not hear me, and she sighed, returning to look at the cars and pigeons.  

As months flew, I seldom felt her soft touch and she ceased to hold me at night. The girl no longer spent much time in the room, and oftentimes, I lay under disheveled blankets. Percy sometimes paid me an unwanted visit, but his words had grown meaningless. She was all that mattered.

I stayed under the bed for a long time. Each night, I listened to the girl’s soft breaths as she slept. They seemed to whisper Percy’s words, “You are not hers,” and now, I started to believe them. I wanted to be hers again, just like how she was mine, but the longer I stayed hidden, the shorter my hope grew. What was I if I wasn’t hers? I wondered if she now watched the cars fly down the streets without me.

After many dismal weeks on the floor, I finally heard something that made my fur nearly stand on end. “Mom! Have you seen the cat?” She remembered! She noticed I was gone! I needed to tell her that I was right here, that I never left her. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t hear me because now I knew that if I was truly hers and she was truly mine, she would find me in the dark, and I would return where I belong, next to her. That was when I caught a glimpse of my world: one golden eye peeping at me through the darkness.