My mom and I were walking through this outdoors mall. The sun was setting leaving shadows hovering around. I heard a rustle on a bush near by, I looked up from my phone and saw this cute, small black cat with burning hazel eyes standing just a few feet away from the my path I was walking on.

I nudge my mom, "Look mom, it's a black cat."

Her gazes wondered for a bit until she spot him, "Oh, poor thing." She said like it was nothing. Glancing away to mind her business again.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but to look at her weirdly.

"Oh, you know because black cats are bad luck. It's not the poor thing fault. But they represent bad things you know, diabolical meanings and witchcraft." She replied casually. Like she didn't just blame a cat of "diabolical meanings and witchcraft" for the color of his fur.

"Are you serious? So suddenly if a cat's fur is  black the poor things is blame for the bad day you had or claimed to be a witchcraft's outcome?" I tell her, maybe a bit agitated.

My mom groaned like I was making a stupid question, she looked annoyed to me and harshly spitted out, "why do you care? You suddenly love cats now?"

"What if I did? I was just wondering why would you believe such stupid stuff?"

That's not really what I thought. I pitted the cat because I somehow saw myself in him. Label by society as "bad luck" and blamed for having his fur black. Like he have a choice, like I have a choice to be depressed or to be happy. Decide that I'm not going to be the way I am, that the tools are all laid out on front of me. That I just have to pick them up and change.

Sure, of course, it's that easy.

Well, sometimes I pick up the tool to set me free—like is like that— but I miss the strings that are keeping me hostage, I cut myself accidentally. The world tells me I'm unstable yet the truth is that I'm blind and I can't see the strings like other people can.

I'll let them talk, I'll let them judge. My tears will be silent, and so will my cry. But the little black cat will comfort me, he'll lick my tears away and purr against my heart. With his deep, hazel eyes, I'll see written in them— you're not alone.