KRISTINA'S POV
It was not my idea. Blame my mom. She was the one who started it.
It all started on my eleventh birthday. my mom dragged me out of bed, shoved me into the car and told me to strap myself in. I sat bleary-faced in the car, knuckling my eyes and willing myself to stay awake. A quick glance at my watch told me it was seven thirty in the morning. Where is my mom taking me?
She told me.
"We're going to get you a cat!" She announed as we pulled up to an old house. A sign on the gate read'Mystics, persian cat breeders'. I groaned. Back when I was eight, I'd had an annoying obsession with cats. My art teacher loathed me for it.I'd pestered my mom for a cat and now look where I've turned up.
The garden that we walked through (after my mom had rung the doorbell and explained that we were there to buy a cat) was filled with cats, cats toys, cats bowls, etcetra. All the cats were fluffy and flat-faced. Persians.
A short lady with peroxide blonde, permed hair (not a good look) stood waiting for us by the front door.
"You must be Kristina and Mrs Carter! I'm Laura. You've come at the right time! A one of my litters has just been weaned!" Whatever weaned was. We followed her inside, me slouching and occasionally yawning, mom chatting to Laura.
We started the long (well, not really long, it just felt long to me) walk to the 'cat room' as Laura calls it. That woman never stops talking. It's a wonder her mouth doesn't become stiff from overuse.I swear(no! I wont swear!)she never stopped talking.
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I won't update utill I get ten comments frm different people.
Oh, your comment has to have the word 'scream' in it.
