It all started when I came home from school one day to see the most ADORABLE gray tabby sitting on the kitchen table.I got so exited,I threw my back-pack on the couch and jumped up and down acting like a 5 year old.I was acting my age.
That night,me,my cousin,Samantha,my mom,and my aunt all sat at the dining room table and picked out a name for the kitten.After a while,an hour to be exact,I was tired,so,sarcastically, I said "Why don't we just name him Cheeto."
"I like that name!"Said Sammy.
"I was just kidding!"I yelled,"He isn't orange!"
I,of course,didn't win.
We started letting Cheeto out when he discovered the doggy door.He didn't run away,And he wouldn't,or so we thought.
It was a gloomy day.Everything was going wrong for me and my cousin.I got an F on my math test and my mental teacher wouldn't let me throw it away.My best friend had moved to Sacramento,California.But the worst was that my sweet,sweet Cheeto had run away.
I felt nothing all day.I didn't smile when we sang "Happy birthday" to Sammy,and I didn't whine or cry when I had to go to bed.
Cheeto was all that was good to me.He WAS me.I was gone,lost,I couldn't find myself.
The following month,bad turned to worse,much worse.I was at school with Sammy while the adults looked for Cheeto.When I got home,the adults gathered at the table.I didn't know what was happening,but,judging by the looks on their faces,I didn't want to.But I had to know.
Cheeto was dead.He was poisoned by a neighbor.
I felt everything.I cried at things that were funny.I lied in bed all day.
I wish I could give you a happy ending,but i don't have one.This is