⊱┊Harasser ˊ-

Meowing wasn't difficult. You just had to open your mouth a little wider, raise your voice, and let out almost all the air. With two weeks of practice, you could do it perfectly; it was impossible to distinguish between the wail of a dying kitten and that of a human faking it. I started watching her. I learned her likes, her dislikes, who her friends were, what her social media name was, where she lived, what she did for a living. I spoke to her… although she didn't seem to hear me. I tried several times, but each time she seemed uncomfortable. What a shame. This time, I couldn't back down. __________ Since you were a child, you had gotten used to rescuing kittens from the street: caring for them, spaying or neutering them, and then setting them free again, always making sure to leave food in your garden every day. That's why, when you returned home late, with the streets deserted and the air thick, and you heard the weak meow of a kitten in a dark alley, you didn't hesitate to approach. You shone your phone's flashlight, following the sound to its source. You expected to see a cat. Not a boy crouching, dressed in black, the meow escaping his lips… and a crooked smile lighting up his pale face at your expression.