Staring up the ceiling can get boring after the first 2 minutes you do it. I had made it sort of a game in the past 5 days to fix my eyes on a slight crack in the plaster and not let my gaze wander for as long as possible. Not that it helped. In fact, as I quickly realized, the game only contributed to increasing the anxiety and fear in my thoughts, which was not going to make me feel any better. Thanks, ceiling.
Rain pounded angrily against my one tiny window, and a loud gust of wind slapped a branch from the maple tree in our yard against the side of our house. I jumped slightly at the sound, breaking my concentration away from the ceiling.
"Dang it, was just about to break a record of 4 minutes," I muttered, glancing at my alarm clock sitting on a taped up box. 5:24, the time read.
A sick feeling of panic pooled in my stomach, and I looked out into my yard out of habit. Maybe I was hoping she would be there at the front steps, mewling to be let in while soaking wet from the downpour. Or maybe I was wishing she would be running down our street, her long calico fur drenched but soon to be safe in my arms.
But there was no such thing. All I could see was rain, rain, and more rain, pounding the street and our yard. It had been 5 days. 5 long, grueling, awful days filled with sadness, anger, regret, and hope. But by today, the hope had all but trickled away into nothing. Now my heart was slowly being eaten away, and there was nothing I could do.
Tearing my eyes away from the window, I cast my gaze across my pale purple room. It was completely empty, not a poster or picture on the walls in sight. Only five boxes were present, leaning open against the wall full of clothes and a few books, the essentials. The thing I had been using as a "comfortable" sleeping area was a sleeping bag, the perfect tool for ceiling staring competition. With whom was I competing with? Oh, my own record.
Seeing the boxes filled me with hatred and more guilt, and my heart writhed inside my chest painfully. I needed to be out there looking for her, not sitting here like a lump. Where the heck did all this crappy weather come from? Why did it have to be now, with Christmas 2 days away? WHY WAS IT EVEN RAINING IN DECEMBER?! Not to say I was complaining... The warmer than usual weather so close to the holiday was pretty unusual, but at least I knew that she would survive out there without it being snowy and below 0 degrees.
Biting my lip against the onslaught of tears coming to my eyes, I rubbed at my face, fighting the sadness. She's going to be fine. I tried to console myself, clenching my fists against my eye sockets. Please, please let her be okay.
I heard the door to my blank room open, and I immediately forced my hands down to my sides, summoning a snarl on my face.
"Melody, honey, it's dinner time-" My mother stopped abruptly, seeing my expression. Her cloudy blue eyes looked tired, and she gazed at me with pity.
"Oh, sweetheart... Please don't look at me like that. Do you want to eat in here? I can bring your food in. How does that sound?"
When I didn't respond, she sighed, her long locks of auburn hair falling into her face. "Mel. I know, I know how hard this is for you. And I'm so, so sorry. But you need to realize that Obsid is a smart girl. She can make her way home. Cats have a good sense of direction," She smiled faintly, and I turned away, looking back out the window.
"Listen to me. Mel... We're going to have to leave sometime. The new owners of the house can't wait any longer than 2 weeks. That's the minimum. And one week is almost over. Honey, I promise you that if Obsidian finds a way back here after we leave, the new owners will let us know. They can hold her here and somehow we'll get her to Washington-"
"I'm not leaving until Obsidian comes home," I barked, my voice cracking.
"Obsidian may not make it back. Sunshine, it was almost 10 miles away from here when she jumped out of the van. She's a tough cookie, but the weather in the winter is harsh. Maybe another family will find her and keep her safe for Christmas. You gotta hold onto the hope." My mother's own voice was breaking, and I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I started to sob, ugly, fat tears dripping down my nose. I choked on the lump in my throat, crumbling to the floor.
"Oh, baby. Please don't..." Mom knelt beside me, running her fingers through my tangled mess of blonde hair. " This must be so hard for a 12 year old to handle... Shh shh shh. It's gonna be ok. Shhhh."
I pushed her arms away, sniffing. "Go away. I want to be alone."
She tried to hug me, but I ducked away, swiping at my nose.
"Alright. I'll bring you some food later if you're hungry." She walked softly out of my room, and I sat back against a wall, crying by myself.
Melody Riller is my full name. I'm not fond of those stupid little paragraphs full with info on a character, so here's my backstory;
-I have two siblings, Simon and Rachel, both the most annoying children you will ever meet. Ever. Simon- Age 5. Rachel- Age 10.
- I'm 12.
-I have a cat named Obsidian who is currently missing.
-We are moving, and it was postponed after previous bullet.
- It's been 5 days since Obsidian's been gone.
- I have no friends except for my cat.
- I'm not very friendly.
- And I'm a champion at ceiling staring. Obviously.
Laying on my back again, brushing away tears from my eyes, I fixed my sights upon another crack in the ceiling, calming my heartbeat. My stomach rumbled, but I ignored it, waiting until my pulse was sedated by my breathing.
I made a wish. I closed my eyes and clasped my hands and prayed and made a wish, a desperate one.
Please get my cat safely home. Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes, I just want her safe with me. Maybe in time for Christmas, I don't care. Just home. Whatever it takes. I'll do anything.
I opened my blue eyes again, angry with myself. My best friend was out there, alone and feeling abandoned, and here I am making wishes. I sat up, looking for something to punch. Nothing was available, so I slumped back down, feeling defeated.
The thing was, I had been fine with moving. Nothing seemed to be holding me back. I had no friends in Tennessee, and Obsidian was all I really needed for companionship. We were hoping to be in Washington State a few days before Christmas so that we could set up a few decorations and wrap presents. The new house was amazing, huge and gorgeous. I was actually excited about it. 5 days ago, we were on our way in our old van, Obsidian in her crate beside me, Rachel on the seat next to her, and Simon behind us. It wasn't until Simon needed to pee that I realized they had let Obsid out in the car to hang out on top of the car's consol, amusing my siblings and parents by meowing loudly. Even though she was technically my cat, I let it slide.
Then disaster struck.
Simon, being the idiotic child he was, left the door open while getting out to sprint into the rest stop. I was on my tablet, unaware of my surroundings. One second it was silent; the next there was a shouting and Rachel was tearing across the parking lot, her long legs blurring under her feet as she shrieked.
My breathing stopped when I saw her chasing a calico cat, my cat to be exact. A rabbit was bounding off, Obsidian in hot pursuit. Rachel began to fall behind, still blubbering unintelligible words as she tried to catch her. And my world fell apart.
The memory, sounding like a sad movie that you'd watch at Christmas time that would certainly end happily, played in my head over and over again. It was branded into my mind, and I couldn't forget it. Obsidian had kept running until she couldn't be seen in the trees, and I wanted to block it out. Stop, stop, stop. I scolded myself, not wanting to start the flow of tears anew.
I could just tell, by the way my siblings looked at me sideways and my parents hugged me, that they thought, no, knew that Obsidian wouldn't be coming home. A small part if me knew it too. But I didn't want to believe it. It was too hard to accept. Hope was almost gone, a thin layer transparent over my heart. I just didn't want to let it go.
It was funny, but that cat had been my hope. And now she was gone. I struggled with my breathing, fighting against the waves of loss. Never had I missed anyone or anything so much.
I caught the sounds of Christmas carols playing outside in our desolate kitchen, forks and spoons clinking against plates as my family ate their dinner without me. Simon's loud, squeaky voice reverberated all around the house, and I wanted to slam my head into a pillow. Dad's rumbling, brass voice calmed him down, and I relaxed, closing my eyes, picturing my beautiful calico kitty running towards me-
"You know, I was thinking... Maybe we should get Mel another pet for Christmas- How about a puppy?" My mother's voice echoed in my mind before it hit me.
I bolted up, wide awake now. What did she just say?! I wanted to scream, my blood boiling. I'M NOT REPLACING MY CAT WHO IS STILL COMING BACK WITH A MANGY, DROOLY, DISCUSTING-
" YEAH! Let's get a puppy! That's better than a cat anyway!" Simon chimed, and Rachel cheered. I felt faint, tears pooling up again. But, but-
"I think that's just what she needs," My own father agreed, and I clenched my tear soaked pillow, my eyes wide.
I gazed back up at the ceiling, eyeing the crack again, before glaring with venom at my open door.
Thanks ceiling, for your emotional plaster and helpful training for the ceiling staring competition. But right now, I'm going to go show my family what happens if they suggest that I get a dog instead of my cat.
With that thought, I stood up, and with fury burning in my puffy eyes, stormed out of my room and down the hallway to give my family a piece of my mind.

Thank you so much for reading this! The title will make sense, and I will make sure that everything becomes clearer as the chapters continue. So don't worry. :D I love you so much if you took the time to even skim through this, it means so freaking much! Also, NONE OF THESE PICTURES BELONG TO ME! THEY ARE ALL SOMEONE ELSE'S, AND THEY ARE NOT MINE. I DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS MY OWN, IT IS JUST WHAT I WISH TO USE AS MY CHARACTER PORTRAYERS. THANK YOU.