sunrise

It was those hazy hours between midnight and two, and Ollie was lying in her bed, reading a book; she had abandoned the prospect of sleep hours ago. Her little room was full of moonlight and boxes of books. She worried that her old life wouldn’t fit into the tiny space. The heroine was just about to save the day when her door creaked open slowly, and a slight jingle reached her.

“Go away.” She groaned, biting a fingernail in anticipation. Another bell sounded as a toy mouse bounced across the floor. “Sirius, no.”

“You pester me to play,” a deep voice responded, “I don’t see why I can’t too.”

Dropping her book into her lap, Ollie’s eyes widened; peeping down, she frowned. A black smudge sat on her floor, tail swishing. Sirius was her cat, but he acted as if she were the scum of the earth most of the time.

“What are you staring at?”

Ollie cried out, scrambling to the wall. Her cat had spoken – her grumpy, melodramatic cat. “What –”

“So now you understand.” Sirius jumped up on the bed and fixed Ollie with a level stare. “Took you damn long enough. It’s been what, eight years?”

“No, no way.” Ollie buried her face in her quilt, shaking her head. “No – no – no.” a soft paw pushed her hand, and she scuttled away.

“Ollie, stop.”

“No.” she shouted, toppling off the bed.

The door burst open, and a stricken Neil stumbled in. “Olwyn?” he gaped at her sprawled on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“Pa, we need to go. Sirius is talking to me, and I’m pretty sure a squirrel called me a rude word earlier.”

“Oh.” Neil did not look concerned enough in Ollie’s opinion. “Honey, I…”

“Seriously Pa, I’m not joking. Psych ward, like now.”