A Furry Story

Chapter 7 - Oh My Lily

The picture on the side is a cat named 'Fatboy'.You'll find out why soon enough. *wink wink*

And and and, I didn't delete the sticky note because there were a few votes there and it would really be useful for the story xD. But instead of the original message, I'll be posting something new. Happy reading!

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I actually like the color pink. I don't like it in a weird ‘rich kid’ stereotypical way, but in a really genuine way.

But now that I am seeing it in a pooper scooper, I think it’s just plain ugly.

Ugly as a rat,

Ugly as a man with armpit stains,

Ugly as Stephanie without make-up, (which is saying something)

Bree was looking at me expectantly. Even without her saying it, I can already feel her encouragement lines that she was trying to tell me mentally. If actions speak louder than words, then I am saying a lot right now. And no, those words do not contemplate happiness or content.  You do the maths.

She was still staring at me creepily.

“Haha,” I scoffed. “No way am I doing that.” She looked at me as if I was testing her patience, which I guess I was doing. I realized that her hair was abnormally wavy today so I tried to change the topic before it gets too late.

“Oh my god, what did you do to your hair?!” I exclaimed, full of energy. I lifted both my hands, trying to touch it, but she didn’t want me near her hair so my hands were just dangling in the air. “It looks so good, the volume of it is just so—“

She clucked her tongue. “That trick doesn’t work on me, honey.” She then placed the pink scooper on top of my still dangling hands and walked past me. “But thank you, I do try my best.”

I just stood there with my jaw drooping widely. If it wasn’t for her screaming for me to follow her, I wouldn’t have moved. Are my plans that crappy? Well, that sucks.

I followed her shortly, and realized that I was inside the devil’s nest itself – the cat room.

If there is one thing that I can say about this place; is that it smells like someone just placed a diaper bomb in it. Oh wow, I need an oxygen mask. I pinched my nose. “What is that smell?”

Bree pinched her nose as well. “That smell,” She pointed at the individual pens that filled the long hallway. “Is the smell of your future. Literally. So chop-chop!”

She started whisking away calmly but a thought occurred to me.

“Wait, so I’m the only one here?” I shouted. She turned around, her abnormally wavy hair turning with her. And then she closed her eyes with a pained expression on her face, contemplating that she forgot something to do.

“Oh yeah, I was supposed to introduce you to the people like you!”

People like me? What, fugitives?

As if answering my question she said, “Others are forced to for community service while others are just voluntarily helping.” She started nodding consecutively. “Very nice kids.” Then she snapped back to reality.

“Anyway, come with me.”

I followed her, sort of relieved because temporarily get away from that suffocating place but at the same time nervous because of socializing with people. Not being an antisocial, but I don’t think I want to be friends with anyone that may or may not see me screaming my head off in the near future.