What people might usually expect of kittens are these cute, fluffy little creatures, that everyone loves right off the bat. They’ll think they’re quiet, mainly, but when they do make a noise, their tiny mews are loud and can be heard through nearly their entire house. Or, at least, that’s what’d I’d thought kittens were like—oh, ignorant me!—before one had actually been introduced to the household.

She was loud, so loud I’d thought she’d been a siren at first. That was why I had wandered outside of my room, putting the multiple tasks I had been completing on hold just so I could see what was going on outside. I was, naturally, confused when I first saw my mother, who’d been standing in the hallway and had an appalled face. “You did not,” she said, and, curiously and suspecting it came from the close-by room, walked into the kitchen.

There was a white, rather beaten-up cardboard box set onto the counter, the box almost giving off the impression it’d been raining outside. I raised an eyebrow, now figuring out that the noise was coming from inside the box, and turned my gaze to my father. He had an excited expression upon his face and I honestly just could not figure out why in the world he would have such a look! After putting down his work backpack, he reached his tanned hands into the box, and began to pull something out. Something white, something fluffy, something—

A kitten.

He had retrieved a kitten from the box, and, immediately, a smile broke upon my face. I spared a very quick glance at my mother, and then rushed over to examine the kitten. She was meowing very loudly (like a siren indeed), and one eye was blue, her fur was white—yes, only one eye was blue, but it wasn’t exactly some other colour. It was very strange looking, slightly disgusting, even, as it looked… terribly infected.  The infected eyeball itself was a creamy blue, with puss crusted around on it. The appearance of it made me not want to touch her, honestly, but I insisted on picking her up anyway, after closely dancing around my father eagerly.

I brought my face somewhat closer to the kitten’s, muttering an “awww,” as I admired how cute she was. At the time, actually, I hadn’t thought her a girl; I’d thought her a boy—when we were still thinking of names I’d even suggested Fred multiple times, stubbornly. But I digress. I then walked out of the kitchen and sat down on the couch, hearing my mother sigh as she tried to find something to feed or have the kitten drink. I set the delicate ball of breathing fluff onto my lap, stroking her fur softly. Her mews had begun to die down by now, decreasing in both quantity and volume. I paid no attention to my family, now; just the cat.

She was peaceful as she began to fall asleep on my lap, her head tucked under one paw safely. It brought me to peace, too—one which I thought I could live in forever. I hadn’t felt such a peace in a long time, and I briefly wondered why a cat would bring such a thing. I quickly pushed such thoughts away, however, simply wanting to bask in the moment.

Peace, yes.

We still have that cat. My brother found Alaska a fitting name for her, and I agreed wholeheartedly when he had first proposed it. …Actually, come to think of it, he had just named her without asking, hadn’t he…?

She’s grown to be rude, infection still present in her eye—in fact, it’ll never go away. It’s there to stay her entire life, and she does experience and pain and can basically only see out of one eye… But we would be cruel to not have some sort of ointment for it, prescribed by the vet. She’s easily describable as skin and bones with the purest, whitest of fur that gets simply everywhere. She livens up the house, I cannot lie, but I cannot complain either.