Playing for Kittens

Posted: February 7, 2015 in Short Stories
Tags: ,

A/N: This was written…geez like 12 years ago for my high school English assignment I think? Anyway, I was like 15 when I wrote it so please forgive the terrible, terrible…well…everything about it really lol It’s still one of my favourites even if it is incredibly lame :p


The girl put her feet on the dash and lit a cigarette.

“So, where are we going?” She blew the thick dark smoke out of her nose.

I ignored her question, “Get your feet off the dash.”

“Where are we going?” She repeated, ignoring my reprimand.

“My place.”

“Your place?” She scoffed, “I thought we were gunna go steal stuff.”

I sniggered, “Nah, I think I’ve corrupted you enough for one day.”

“No way,” she replied, “I’m such a bad ass!” She flicked the butt out the window. “Shoplifting, smoking and drinking and I’m only fourteen.”

“Your evil knows no bounds.” I said dryly. She sneered at me. I stopped the black Lamborghini. Shit that dude is gunna be so pissed when he finds his car gone; bloody nice car.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, getting out.

“We are catching the subway, snack-size.”

“Why?” She asked again, in that typically, teenage girly whine. I rolled my eyes.

“Because.” I mimicked. I swaggered down the stairs as the punk-rock bint followed behind. While she stood waiting for the subway, I walked up to the maintenance shaft ladder and climbed it. She looked at me as if I was hopelessly stupid.

“What are you doing now?” She asked.

I grinned, “Catching the subway, you annoying little-” I searched for the words, “annoyance!”

“And the award for the lamest comeback goes to…”

“Oh shut up and get up here.” I snapped. I had been doing this for almost seven years, jumping on the top of a subway car to get to the abandoned subway station I ironically called home. All the punks, homeless and the assortment of other random people lived down here and I knew all of them. The pigs called us the Underground. She was looking at me in a weird way.

“What the hell are you-oh God!” She stopped her eyes widened. “Please tell me we aren’t going to jump on the top of a subway car.”

“Ok,” I replied, “I won’t tell you.”


I’m terrified, absolutely terrified. I think this is the worst most tragically terrifying thing that has ever happened since…before…

Dripping rusty pipes, electrical cables and rocky ledges went flying past my head.

“I can’t believe I’m sitting on top of a subway car.” I said loudly over the noise.

“I know, awesome isn’t it?” He yelled back, “Get up, we get off soon.”

“No freaking way. I will not stand on top of a train.”

“Come on!” He grabbed my hand and yanked me up. “Are you ready?”

“No!” I screeched back.

“Tough!” He jumped dragging me along with him.

“Holy SHIT!” As we approached the darkened nothing, I prayed to God not to kill me just yet, that I was still worth his time. Then I hit the floor.

“YEAH! That was awesome!” Sodding, moronic idiot! Lousy worthless-

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your worthless ass!” I croaked. Dirty son-of-a- something licked my hand “Puppy!” A big fluffy mutt jumped up and licked my face.


She giggled helplessly. “Well Diesie is one reason.” I replied as I flicked the circuit breaker. The generator fired up and the lights came on.

“Wow!” She exclaimed, standing up and flicking her platinum fringe out of her face. “ I didn’t think they ran power through the abandoned ones.” I felt a surge of pride as I explained that they didn’t and that me and my boys re-routed the entire system of electricity and water so that it did. She raised her eyebrows clearly impressed by this.

“Yeah and how many of you died?” She asked jokingly.

“Just two.” I replied, scratching Diesel behind the ears. This girl, the one that followed me, she’s here by choice not by force. Why? She’s on the path to destruction, death even. I ended up in a subway station because no one would have me. I was ten years old when it happened. But I actually like it here so I guess it worked out ok, for me anyway. But her, this is her path to death.

“Why?” I asked as I pulled a beer from the fridge.

“Dude! You have a bathroom and stuff too.” She called from the other side of the station. “Why, what?”

“Why did you come here? Why di-“

“Because I have nothing to lose.” She cut me off, as she strode past me, opened the fridge and got out the leftover Chinese.

“What like that suicidal bank loan chick from that movie ‘Kill Me Later’?” She tilted her head to the side and frowned. “You know the one with Max Beesley and Selma Blair?” She smiled.

“Max Beesley is so sexy. Yeah, my life? Definitely like that movie.”

“But you have so much. Why throw it all away?”   I asked puzzled by her willingness to die.

“Yeah, whatever! I could die tomorrow and no one would notice.” She snapped, through her mouthful.

“You probably will if you eat anymore of that Chinese. It’s about 3 months old and I would notice if you died tomorrow.” I grinned. She spat it out, horrified and gave me the evil I’m-gunna-kill-you glare. “See! You don’t wanna die, otherwise you’d still be eating.”

“Well smart ass I’d much rather be Selma Blair and have you shoot me than to die of pukeation!”

“Well,” I replied, “I’m not Max Beesley and is pukeation even a word?” She glared at me again.

“It is now!”


“Look his fangs are bending!” I giggled and waved a dismissive hand at the TV. “Sorry but Vampires? So not scary.” Charlie was lying on the couch, his head deep in the soft cushions he’d piled up around him. He snorted,

“Yeah they never get the teeth right.” Months had passed and I haven’t killed myself. I’ve a reason to live… Charlie. I finally have done something for myself, made something of myself. I met a boy and everything fell into place. My life, my home, and my salvation. I don’t wanna die, those words are music to my ears after, death is the only way out.

“Well Charlie old boy, I have to go feed my dog and maybe steal a car.” I said, getting up.

He laughed, “Riiight!” He replied sarcastically. “Have fun then.”


She smiled as she lifted her bag to her shoulder. That was my girl, I saved her from death. She once told me I was her salvation. I believed her, and in some way she was mine too. I still dream of killing, damn it I enjoy it, consider it an acclaimed hobby. But I don’t, not anymore, she was my angel.

“Come for Black Jack tomorrow?” I called to her.

She was up the ladder by then, she smiled, “Sure, are we playing for kittens?”

I gave her my best horrified look, “Since when have we ever not?” I yelled as the subway approached.

She laughed, cigarette in her mouth, “Consider me there.” She turned to jump on. I’ll never forget the look on her face as the subway slammed into her…

His soul yearns for more…

Drinks with Charlie always a laugh. Best cars evil money can buy. Distractions, for sure. He no longer daydreams about killing shiny young girls, keeps his hands still, but in his sleep he drinks their blood. He had been doing good. Making his own fun. Finding strippers, whores and the occasional bar brawl. He searches for meaning in sprayed blood. Meaning… that’s all he asks. Why the girl who wanted to live? Why Amy-Lee, his black Goddess? Why the one he loved?

AN: Inspired by the following poem, credits to the author of it, whoever you are! 🙂

The Soulless

The foolish fears of what would happen,

with my soul and my mind.

I strove to cast them all away,

soon they came to me,

among my impressions.

So worn, troubled, benighted,

my nightmares casting the shades,

craving to live in my dreams.

Now I look around to see,

the return to my home.

Before I had lost my way,

and now I found myself,

traveling amount the River Gardens.


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