It all started the night of December 25, I remember it well. We were gathered for Christmas when the phone rang. My mother thought it hard to leave the table, it was pretty much all day meticulous arming dinner. After exchanging a few words on the phone quickly he broke down her face. They began to sprout some tears just at the time when Uncle Francis informed of the death of my grandfather, his father. Although my mother did not visit as this, he ignored her as a daughter after falling in love and marry dad, his death caused her much grief. Much pain.
The funeral was held two days after his death, in a small cemetery in a distant county; overshadowed by the serene silhouette of old pine trees and fragrant bouquets by other dead dry socks. We moved there for it. We left home very morning on Interstate arrived quite late and despite trying the opposite; We could barely hear the last words of the priest and the subsequent burial witness.
While I was sitting at my mother's side I saw a cat despite their distance. My mother did not see grandpa for years, she was curious to know the end of his life. Of everything what caught my attention was the last part of his story. It was horrible !, even I did not sleep that night as I remembered every moment.
Uncle culminated saying the bruised corpse was found Grandpa three days after death by his employee Dona Esther, who occasionally came to the house of the deceased to make toilet. Moreover Then came the story of Duncan, the cat my grandfather. His partner at the end of his days. Francis said that when police and forensic came to lift the body, the cat was resting peacefully in bed dead.
Nestled at the foot of this. Seeing the presence of strangers in the room, which only they shared, the animal walked to his owner again and again rubbing against him, purring and loving, sought in vain a touch that never came.
Duncan was a black, rugged cat and individual character. He came to life and was his only grandfather and loyal companion until death decided to come for the elderly. Grandpa had lost his mind, had the cat as you have a family; even they ate at the table and used to share food from the same plate. My uncle Francis said that once visited this grandfather invited him to dinner and retired cat dish and poured in some meat and mashed potatoes with the intention that Francis eat it, unwashed and as naturally of the world. Certainly he had lost his mind.
I think that damn cat planned all our misfortune. People commented that even after death, the cat refused to leave. He was in bed and heard the last breath of the dying, was at the door of the morgue and then came to the cemetery and attended the funeral as if they understood that his master was absent. And there it was in front of us, about 12 meters from all of us, gazing into the distance burial.
Sitting on their back, visibly saddened and silent rooms. When the undertaker dropped the last shovel of dirt in the hole, the cat came up a few centimeters, we looked and then in an act too human, lay on the disturbed earth of the grave and taking care of the home life of his companion. I am sincere when I say that fitness really touched us and accidentally was the beginning of a trail of misfortunes that have lasted to this day.
My father at that time proposed to stay with the cat. Uncle Francis said that would be a pious act on our part, and that if it were not for his eternal wool allergy animal he himself had taken into his home. My mother did not hesitate to accept to take the cat home. I think that such action was a balm of encouragement, an incentive to appease his remorse at having abandoned in some way to his elderly father.
So, fooling everyone ...! Duncan came to our house. The first few days were kind and gentle. He loved to bask in the living room window. Lying on the couch, he spent long hours sleeping and wasting endless laziness. He looked like a "normal" lazy, lazy cat given to our attention very often as most cats.
But when he had been a month since his arrival began to change significantly. All seemed irritable. Do not let anyone approach him and tried to stay away from all of us, although it mimábamos too. He stopped eating in the next few days. It drew to a plate lying on the kitchen floor, with heating; He smelled it, watched with great reluctance and then rose temper with his tail curled over his back and disappeared leaving the rest of the day.
We care about your health, we try to go to the vet; This infuriated the animal greatly. It struck my father severe scratches and bites when he moved to the clinic for the doctor to examine him. After the checkup, the vet said that the animal was going through a terrible period of stress because "apparently" had realized that in fact no longer his own back for the ever, which it shook his psyche and became aggressive.
He recommended not to insist in seeking it unless he tried first. Otorgáramos you your space and we gave it time and we did. The doctor also prescribed some vitamins, same as we had in the fresh water pouring from its bottle to normalize your appetite. After the medicated drinking water from its source, Duncan seemed interested in his food again; although he did not eat too much at least eat something already- However, his mood did not change at all.
He remained sullen and aloof. When we wanted to pet him, twisting her slender body and your skin crawl back visibly furious, as if our love would prove painfully repulsive. Then growled menacingly showing its fierce whitish tusks and got up from where I was heading to my room, to jump to the edge of the window frame and there landing the roof of the shed our garage, to take off the street and go to bend corner of the block.
That made every day, and without the slightest nerve, every morning very promptly dared to tear the kitchen door asking reenter at home with his head held high and full of pride. Everything I've told was just the beginning of what was to come. Whenever the cat behaved worse.
He had a terribly sadistic side. He loved scare and ambush in corners or corridors for after scraping our run; I gave me the impression that he was fascinated hurt us. He loved us harm! It was difficult to notice especially at night because he loved refuge in the dark corners and go unnoticed by his terrifying black. I got so much fear that I started sleeping with the light on and the cat realized that.
When the lamp could lay down my nightstand and I was at his mercy. Sometimes he slept in my bed, as many without the slightest provocation biting me openly and then go like that. When I thought nothing could happen, I fell asleep between many surprises. And he woke up terrified in the darkness of my blankets and my mind to imagine my horror acrecentaba irrationally that the cat had grown up in a hellish maniataba me hug, but in fact that darkness was the dim light around me under the covers.
My mother was also a victim of his sick fury, she once told Duncan rested at his feet and began to meow anything so frightening gesturing horrible wailing sounds like a small child treated. She was so frightened that he tried to get away from walking out of his own room and the animal quickly got off the bed and began to bite his toes, forcing her to return to bed at will. This time it took 9 points ... between toe and heel of the right foot. "That always wanted, he keeps us scared and did it successfully."
Somehow that made us miserable beast believe that our house belonged to him, just as our body and everything we had. The first time you try to get rid of the cat when I was savagely attacked. As usual he remained hidden behind some bags on top of my closet. I do not remember exactly what time decided to jump from his lair and single jump shot me from the cabinet directly to the face ... to bite with a vengeance I have ever seen in any animal!
I could feel and hear their sharp claws tore my skin, and as the heart pounded in my chest to feel vulnerable and unprotected in their savage fury. That night my father heard my cries .... We were all tired and the behavior of the animal! So he decided, came into my room with a bag of fiber and grabbed him by the neck overturning inside to go to throw it away. That night there were cries of the most horrific thing I heard in life, I could have sworn I heard curses even out of that angry beast.
My father not caring too knotted the bag and threw it in the trunk of the car and started the car was pulling to where. The animal was pulled into the fighting. When he had found a remote place to 3 hours from home my father grabbed the bag with its contents and threw nefarious hard to fast flowing river Omaha, which brought water from the mountains directly into the sea.
Since that time everything changed at home. After several years we lived happy again. Too bad it did not last long. By the third week the cat reappeared in the house, we did not know how! We think that the river had killed him, but ... the cat was still alive. It came with bruised body and broken left leg. A thin, red bone filudo across his skin to the side of the thigh. That filled us with horror! It was a real curse everything.
When the cat reappeared in our life turned our home into a living hell. We saw in the eyes; yellow eyes like those of a full moon. Eyes malicious squandered not only revenge and hate! Duncan as a result of the incident lived in the house full of distrust, my father avoided at all costs. But everything turned out to be another undesirable plan cat.
My father soon after that he lost his job. It was well over seven months and our economy fell to the ground. Our debts were increasing. My father got a job as assistant fat Harris, a retired truck driver who had an auto shop on the edge of the road. When all seemed suddenly improved a worse misfortune befell.
Repairing the engine of a truck chains that held him in the air broke or loosened ... we did not know well, but dropped the device on the legs of my father and the amputated. "No one takes me the idea that this tragedy was orchestrated by the animal demon." He took revenge on my father for trying to kill and injure one of their limbs. After his accident my father was reduced to the limited mobility of a wheelchair that will give away the priests of the parish to which we attend, since we believe that God had forsaken us at the mercy of the devil himself.
While my father and my mother tried to take control of everything but it was not enough. My father began to change his mood. She was withdrawn and began to turn violent with us. He sought refuge in the ephemeral joys that brings alcohol. Instead the cat to reason everything seemed "happy and cheerful." Suddenly he appeared as if nothing will affect our unhappiness and glad.
Our daily dinners were the worst time of day. My father beat my mother always appeared in his food as hair entangled in vegetable soup. Mom did not understand how it all happened, since the first time it happened, she picked up her hair in a plastic cap to prevent such accidents; and despite her care every day appeared in the soup. The last day I remember more than the hairs on the food showed the head of a bird of ash plumage. My father thought that it was deliberately and was not prepared to endure another day that.
On that night he grabbed his marble ashtray and smashed the mouth of my mother knocking him all his front teeth. The teeth fell to the floor and the cat began to play with them amidst the pool of blood and screams of all. I looked at the cat and stopped to see me as well and stopped playing with teeth trisados momentarily and that's when I ran anywhere to get away from everyone.
I hid in a closet in the kitchen, because it was small enough to fit in and was there listening, but with less intensity all the talk of my parents. He kept the door ajar to scorch mother when entered by the lamb pie was about to cool on the stove. I saw there the true evil nature of the cat! I saw him mouth to bring in a tangle of filthy hair and even uncover the boiling pot, the rest of the meal to introduce them there! Then he jumped the counter toward the dining room.
That night was the last time I saw my mother. On the morning of July 22, 1976 he left the house in the morning incapable of attacking the abuses of my father and the damn cat. I do not blame her for having abandoned. If I had not done quite possibly he would have died within a few months. I also stayed at home too long. I left home when I was 13. I lived in foster homes, I tried to get married and have a family, but I'm damned!
I decided to stay only because those who I have dared to love one or are otherwise damaged inexplicably. I finished my single days in a nursing home at the mercy of fate. I've aged, I've buried beings that I have loved, and I still live haunted by the shadow of the black cat ... ..
The black cat, again this outside my window! "I'll close now." Even I do not want to take me!