See You Tomorrow

Tomorrow never comes. I learned that the hard way— by waiting. Listening for footsteps that never came back. Never being able to hear the voice of a loved one again hurts. I hiss and my ears flatten every time I hear the phrase “See you tomorrow”, because it reminds me of her. The lady who cared for me and fed me since I was little, only to abandon me when I got pregnant.

She adopted me when I was a little kitten. When I was small and fragile and could barely take care of myself. Ever since she took me in, she cared for me so much. Wouldn’t let me get even a bit hungry or get bored. I’d play, sleep and eat all day. I was living the life. I was with her for 4 years before I got pregnant while she was on vacation.

She noticed. Her smile became strained whenever she looked at my growing belly. She didn’t play as much, didn’t pet me as much. She stopped getting the good cat food and instead switched to the normal boring one. But I still loved her. She was my human after all.

Then one day, we walked farther than usual. Past the usual stores and parks and into a new, unfamiliar territory. I felt uncomfortable but I still followed her. She loved me after all, she wouldn’t do anything bad, right? She sat me down by a bench and said in that sweet voice of hers,

“See you tomorrow.”

She left and didn’t turn back. I waited and waited, but she didn’t come back that day. Maybe she just got busy… she’ll be back tomorrow. For sure. My head perked up whenever a pair of footsteps came close or a voice sounded even slightly similar to hers. But in her place, a stranger passed by without even a glance at me.

At first, I didn’t move. I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to find me if I moved and she returned. As the days passed, my hunger grew and my belly became heavier. I started to feel dizzy from starvation. It didn’t help that I was getting closer and closer to giving birth by the day.

That’s when I realised— she wasn’t coming back. She left me on the streets. I hated her. She betrayed me, left me alone when I needed her the most. I can’t believe I trusted her. Then I started to miss her. Miss the food she’d give me and how she’d pamper me daily. I remembered how she’d pet me while working and I came to miss her touch. Until finally, I accepted she was gone. I made my home under the stairs of a store. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was warm and safe. And that’s all that really mattered.

I gave birth to three beautiful little babies just four weeks after being left on the road. They were the best things that ever happened to me. I worked hard to protect them and get them food every day. I needed them to be healthy. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I let any of them get hurt.

I fought for food, returning with fresh wounds and blood staining my fur, but always with something for my babies to eat. I stole food and learned which humans hit and which would let me go with food. I found out which dogs were all bark and which meant it.

All to make sure my babies and I survived.

Once one of them wandered off at night and I spent days searching for her, calling for her till my voice grew hoarse before finally finding her. Those were the worst days of my life. Even worse than when I was abandoned. I was terrified. After that I vowed to protect them till I died.

Watching them grow made every scratch worthwhile. Their tiny paws soon became steady enough to follow me, and their frightened cries turned into playful chirps. Every full belly and peaceful nap felt like a small victory. If the world had taken everything else from me, it had given me them, and that was enough for me.

The first thing I ever taught them was, “Never trust anyone who promises tomorrow. Because tomorrow never comes.”

They grew so fast, becoming just as fast and strong as their mother. I raised them so well. Years passed, and they started to become more independent. I started to feel the effects of age, my jumps became lower and I couldn’t run as fast. Before I knew it, they were taking care of me. Hunting food and leaving it by me so I could eat. They mostly hunted alone near the staircase where we stayed but they always returned at night. They stuck close to me as I slept, their warm bodies clinging to mine to make sure I don’t get cold. They’d meow as they fawned over me, making sure I was alright. Sometimes they’d nudge me as I slept to make sure I was still breathing. They were my beautiful, perfect angels. But I didn’t want them to face the world alone. No mother does.

When it was finally my time to go, I let out a weak meow and told them “See you tomorrow, my babies…” before taking my last breath and closing my eyes for the final time.

They seemed confused, meowing and hoping I was just sleeping. When I still didn’t move the next day, they realised I wasn’t coming back. They remembered my words and buried me the way most strays do, in memories.

They never said the word tomorrow again. They stuck together, slept together and hunted together. They protected each other so none of them would feel alone.

Sometimes, if they had some extra food, they’d leave it at the staircase.

Just in case.

“Let’s go hunting tomor-“ one of them started.

“We don’t say that word,” another interrupted harshly.

“Sorry…”