Milk

I Know Who You Are

Mera came home with a small fish.

"Would you like some, Milk?" Mera had asked.

Milk, though he was starving, said, "No, no, feed it to the young ones, Mera. I'll be fine." She smiled gratefully, and dropped the fish on the floor, allowing the five kittens to eat. Milk noticed one of them, the smallest of the litter, not eating much. He frowned. But before he could say anything, the fish was gone. The deed was done.

The morning next, Milk woke to find Mera sitting, looking out of the cave. He got up shakily. He was becoming just a bit more accustomed to having only three legs. 

The mood was tense. Milk had no idea why, but he felt coldness in the morning air. The kittens were all asleep, piled together, like a large, gray ball. Milk made his way over to sit next to Mera. He wanted her thoughts on what he should do. When he sat down next to her, she shivered.

"Mera," he said. "Mera, I'm thinking of leaving to go somewhere. I'm really just an inconvenience to you. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

He expected her to say something back. But not for a long time did she do so. When she did, it was shaky and sounded almost crazed:

"Milk," she said, emphasizing the name. "Milk. I know you."

"What?" Milk asked. She knew him? How? Milk didn't even know who he was himself.

"I said, I know who you are. Your name. I know you."

"Really? Who am I?"

She hesitated, as if she was thinking over something. Eventually, she responded. "Your name, it's Marshall."

Marshall.

The missing piece fit into place. And nearly everything came back to him like a hurricane. Like a tsunami. It hit him hard, in the chest, where it hurt. The truth.

"You, Marshall," she said. "you, you, you, you, you, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU!"

Milk jumped back, frightened. He hadn't expected it. Yet, he did, because he knew why she was saying it. 

"YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!"

The kittens were waking. Milk backed away even more. He was filled with guilt and shame and sorry. The wind blew through the cave, sending a chill down his spine. Mera turned to look at him, and their was rage and contempt in her green eyes.

"Get. Out. NOW!"

Milk ran as fast as he could out of the cave, into the field outside the cave. He ran until he was out of breath. Tears stained his white fur. A bird soared overhead. The field's grasses flowed high and thin, like a maze. Milk was lost. Yet, with his recovered memories, he knew what he had to do.

He was going to the cave.