||[Jan. 28th, 2009|10:35 pm]
Since it's rabbit hole day, I'll tell you the story that should have been.|
It was the doorways that did it... getting trapped in a doorway was a sure sign of wanting to pass through. I wasn't exactly ready, but I was as close as could be. So I reach down, grabbed his spirit firmly, and stepped across the barrier into the spirit world.
It wasn't easy; it never is. But we got there. And soon we were looking for what he wanted.
We found her. She was perfect, he said. Her brothers wouldn't ask for a girly pet like a cat, but they all secretly loved the thought of a warm, purring kitty sharing a chair, or chasing string and shadows, or finding the highest spot in the house, to keep watch against who-knows-what.
She was from a war zone, of course. That's what he wanted. Someone scared, and lonely, and someone who needed a happy little bundle of purring.
"Do you need my help?" I asked, and he smiled at me. Like a loving kitty needed help charming the heck out of a little lonely girl! He ran over to her, and slipped his head under her hand, and purring as her hand stroked him from head to tail.
Soon, she was picking him up and hugging him in a most undignified manner, and he pretended to be bearing it with dignity, rather than doing his job with pride. And thankfully, in the spirit world, there are no parents who'd refuse their children a new pet who "followed them home," so I knew my job was mostly done when she carefully took a hold of him and ran home as swiftly as she dared with her arms full of cat.
I could have left then; maybe I should have. But I couldn't. Maybe I was afraid, but I don't think so. I think it was fascination.
Why are there nightmares in the spirit world? It's formed by our consciousness, right? Sure, it's touched by our dreams and subconscious, but it's formed by our consciousness, isn't it?
Ah, but she was from a war zone. And war, well... if we truly hated war, and always were willing to strive mightly and sacrifice heavily to prevent it, those nightmares would be gone from the spirit; that's just the way it is. But we don't, do we?
Oh, some of us do, but all too many of us just blindly accept. And some of us even cheer.
So it's not a surprise that a nightmare formed and a group of faceless soldiers started marching towards the little girl's house. Their insignias? They were those from every country, and none. And they were fighting to both correct, and perpetrate, a brutal injustice, but does it matter? They were fighting, and the girl's family was A Potential Enemy so they had to be harassed, and frightened, and maybe even killed if things went badly or mistakes were made.
I really don't think I was afraid. I think I knew what would happen. But I was glued to the spot, and I couldn't look away, not until I knew for sure.
Later, the nightmare-corporal would be explaining to a nightmare-lieutenant that they were attacked, that their mission failed, that a horrible black panther had ripped them apart. The nightmare-soldiers would disagree; there was never a panther so powerful, so vicious, and so protective. But they let the explanation stand. Who would believe the truth?
And so the girl and her family would sleep in peace for a while, their time in the spirit world made happier and more peaceful.
As I turned to leave, I felt a headbutt at my calf, and I turned around, and picked my cat Chibi up.
"I'll miss you," I said.
And he didn't say anything; he just stretched his neck next to mine, giving me a final hug, purred loudly, and then scampered away, free at last from a body that was no longer a proper body for such a big, loving cat. Then he ran off, to his new home, to give love and protection for as long as he could, until at last, he was ready to dive back into our world, to live another life, and make the world a bit better for his passing.
Please understand that I may not ever feel up to responding to any comments made on this entry.