The Black Cat
One evening I was on my way home from the cinema when suddenly a black cat crossed the street in front of me. I am not superstitious so I walked on. Then suddenly I was in a graveyard. Or it looked like a graveyard to me. On the graveyard were jam jars hanging on the trees. I heard music and a children’s laugh. I am not mad and I surely do not dream this. As I lighted each candle the flickering light made long shadows showing a pattern of banks and hollows. The name of the graveyard was written into a tree. It was Whittington. The name made my hair stand up. I’ve heard from my mum that people were whipped out from Whittington in a plague over 300 years ago. I imagined falling down, down into a world of sickness and filth, of rats and huge pits filled with dead bodies and black cats. This place was really strange to me. It was like I’ve been here before. But then again, no I couldn’t. I was very scared. My shirt was sticking to my skin. I peeled it away and sat down in front of a small copse that was grown with haw thrown and blackberries.
There was a rustling behind me and a whirl of cool air blew out from amongst the beech trees. I turned and rubbed my eyes. There was the black cat. It started to speak. Now I believed everything was possible. It told me not to get on a plane. I did not know what it was talking about so I ignored it. It jumped in front of me so I covered my eyes with my hands. When I heard nothing I opened my eyes and I was at home in front of the door. I didn’t know if I was dreaming this or if it was real. But never mind. I got to bed and fell asleep right away. In the morning, when I was suppose to go to work my car broke down so I had to take the bus. The traffic was horrible and it was ten minutes to nine. At nine o’clock I had a meeting. Of course I came late. Everyone was waiting and only for me. But lucky me, the meeting went well. When I came home my fish were all dead. Why? Did the cat cause all this? I doubt it. Or no... Then I looked at my watch but they were gone. I decided to take a holiday. I bought the ticket and booked everything. Malorca is a perfect place to relax. When I came to the airport I found out that the plane is already gone. I was angry but I tried to keep myself calm. I told them to change my time next week.
So they did. All the week I had bad luck. I tried just to win the lottery but no use. I kept saying in my head that I have to try all over again. The next time I came to the airport the woman told me that I have no ticket booked so I went home. So much for a holiday. I came home, tired and disgusted by everything that happened by the last three weeks. I turned on the TV and started to watch Channel Four News Followed by Weather. I saw my plane. It crashed 10 km. away from Malorca. It crashed and burned to ashes. Maybe there was a reason why I was on the graveyard. But I will never know. My phone ringed. It was my mum. She was very happy that I didn’t get on that plane. I was also glad. After that she told me that I won the lottery. Jackpot. Wow. That is like five million dollars. What will I do with them? And will I ever see my savior? The Black Cat. But I will never know whether the graveyard was real or not. One thing I know for sure. Now I AM superstitious. Only because of the Black Cat.