THE MIDNIGHT CAT
I open my eyes and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not sure what’s
woken me. I’m still very drowsy, like I’ve got fluffy eyelids. I roll over
on my side and hug my pillow. All I want to do is go back to sleep.
It’s a moonlit night. In fact the moon is so very bright its light is like a
beaming torch. It shines right through the lace curtains and paints
everything in the room silver and white.
I can see all my books piled on the desk. And tomorrow’s clothes on
the floor. And a jumble of other stuff in the corner. And my sneakers
under the bed. I can’t really see them but I can smell them. Unless that’s
last week’s socks. OK, so I have a messy room.
Then I hear it! A tapping sound. It’s very soft, but very regular. Taptap. Tap-tap. It sounds just like someone tapping out Morse code.
I go rigid and raise my head from the pillow. With my eyes just above
the edge of the blanket I peer out, blinking. Is it really Morse code I hear?
I don’t know anyone who can tap out messages in Morse code.
I take a breath and ask quietly, “Who … who’s there?”
Then I see it, through the lace curtains, sitting on my window ledge,
a grey cat. It’s a ghostly grey colour like a mist in a graveyard. Its body is
quite large and its eyes are yellow slits brighter than stars. With one paw
it’s tapping on the window glass. I’m glad the window is closed.
Suddenly I know what it is. It’s the ghost of that cat my Mother hit
with the car the other night. I told her to stop. I told her we should go
back and pick it up even if it was dead. Now it’s come back to haunt us.
Tap-tap-tap! The ghostly grey cat knocks again on my window. It
wants to come in.
No way! I pull the bed clothes right over my head and hide.
“Try the next window along!” I call out. “That’s Mum’s room. It’s
her fault, she was driving the car, not me.”
Minutes later I lower the bed clothes again and peak slowly out.
“Phew!” I heave a sigh.
The window ledge is bare. The midnight cat is gone.
From The Creative Writing Classroom – Kate Walker
www.creativewritingclassroom.com