That day was very gray; it was raining, I remember it very well because that was the moment when I fought with my brother. We were sitting at the table, he already had his bags to leave. Deep down it hurt me, but I didn't want to admit it. I hated it because he was cruelly telling me the truth. That rainy day I exploded and blamed him for our mother's death.
Everything became silent; not even the roar of the rain could be heard. He just kept quiet, got up from the table, took his jacket, and stood in front of the door for a while. I looked away embarrassed, I wanted to apologize for what I said, but my pride got the better of me. We remained static for a short period of time that seemed eternal, he released a sigh and then left; I never saw him again after that day.
Months passed and I was getting used to the loneliness, but I felt empty; as deserted as my home. An icy, gray atmosphere always awaited me, piercing through me and placing me on my mother's dusty, opaque sofa. The silence was my ally along with confinement. I was given comforting hints of sadness and pain; only memories of a past, happy life, and every time I projected them my eyes began to mist over.
One day, as I was taking my usual route to the supermarket, something extraordinary happened to me. On a concrete wall, a majestic creature was standing. It was a very special cat, staring at me with fixed and singular eyes as I passed by. I was mesmerized by its gaze; I felt it was smiling at me. I reached out to pet it, but the cat wandered away and lost I did not see him again that day.
I didn't give up, even though it was only for an instant, I felt a very special sensation.
I decided to take that route to go to work and pass that wall again. I prepared some tuna croquettes for lunch; I put some aside for the kitty in case I ran into it again; and so it was. There it was again, standing peacefully and stately on that wall. It stared at me with its yellow or olive-green eyes; they were beautiful and piercing. I pulled a kibble from my purse and offered it to him. I waited patiently for a response, but again she backed away and lost herself in the bushes again.
I was disappointed, sad, and frowning. I decided to put the kibble in my bag when suddenly a surprise occurred.
The feline appeared again with a half-eaten sardine, dropped it on my feet, and then stared at me with its piercing gem-like eyes. I pulled out the kibble again and offered it to him and immediately ate it over my hand. In that instant, I knew we had created a connection. The cat stretched out his paws for me to hug him and I took him and squeezed him tenderly; as only a father would do with his child.
At that moment, I felt a warmth in my chest. A glow that could scare away even the thickest gloom. I felt the sensation of happiness running through the fibers of my being again and I smiled with tears in my eyes.
I took it home and gave it a name; I called it Mr. Mouse. Yes, I know it's a strange name for a cat, but I liked it and so did Mr. Mouse. I took a sheet and made a bed for him. Just curled up on the thick fabric and let his body rest. I stood watching him happy and smiling and I know he was watching me the same way.
I liked the way Mr. Mouse looked; his black and white fur was beautiful, it looked like he was wearing a tuxedo, with his particular dark, rhomboid spot down the center of his lower throat. It liked me to pet it on the back of its head; it purred at me and squirmed when I did it. It never meowed at me, nor was it unruly; my cat was as calm as a spring morning.
It scared away the darkness that hung on the walls of my house and replaced the sepulchral cold that levitated over the atmosphere. I always thought Mr. Mouse was magic because everything that touched his paws glowed and the house was always full of vivid colors. Mr. Mouse made me very happy, and the best thing is that I was happy for him too; I was always going to take care of him for the rest of my days.
One cloudy morning, as usual, I went to the kitchen early to prepare breakfast. I poured milk into Mr. Mouse's special cup and then whistled for him to come, but after a while he never did. I thought this was very strange because Mr. Mouse always showed up almost instantly, so I looked for him. I started from the garage to what was my mother's and brother's rooms. I checked the closets, the bathrooms, and under the beds; nothing. Mr. Mouse had disappeared.
I sat on the couch as deep anxiety came over me. Again the feeling of insecurity, abandonment, and anguish. The entities of loneliness were once again perched next to me and placed their hands on my shoulders. The vibrant colors disappeared and I had no choice but to burst into tears. I clenched my hands over my face until I heard a meow; coming from the other side of the front door. I hurriedly opened it and gasped; I caught a glimpse of my brother standing in front of me.
He was carrying Mr. Mouse in his arms; my cat looked as calm as ever. And there we were, facing each other, he and I; it had been months since he left. We didn't say a word, but after a few seconds, he smiled at me. I smiled back and gestured for him to enter the house. From that day on, the colors never left their place again, the loneliness and its villains left and I never felt sad again.
THE END