I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 2: The First Morning

The dining room was large and clearly meant for large gatherings but it was just Alisha and I. She sat a ways down the table, still on her phone, still messaging people. Her bodyguard had taken up a post by one of the doors, keeping his hands folded behind him  and watching the distance much more professionally than he’d been earlier. Every once in a while he would pause whatever internal contemplation was crawling through his head to look at me and my untouched food.

Alisha hadn’t eaten much and remained engrossed in her phone for most of the meal. I wondered if all of this messaging was important or not. Perhaps it was important to her and the rest of the world would find it frivolous. Or maybe it actually was important. Maybe she was talking about me. That was probably partially true. Stella must have been summoned through that phone. 

She took a bite of rice and fish, the cutlery making a sound against the plate that hurt my ears only because the rest of the house was so quiet. It was absurd. Her car was quiet. Her house was quiet. So far I hadn’t heard a single floorboard creak or any door squeak. It was all too well maintained and new.

Alisha’s phone hit the table with a gentle clunk when she set it down and looked at me. “Do you dislike fish?” she asked, seeing the untouched filet on my plate next to the pile of yellowish rice that smelled like real food. And it didn’t even come out of the dumpster. My appetite was nonexistent though.

“I’m not hungry,” I croaked. My voice still didn’t want to cooperate.

Alisha chewed on some food while I sat there, uncomfortable. She swallowed before speaking. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable,” she said. “I understand this is probably overwhelming for you. I have no reason to want to take care of you, and this place is definitely one of the nicer houses in the area, but I don’t have any intention of causing you any harm.”

Whether I believed her or not, this wasn’t right. Human beings didn’t typically just pick random homeless people off the streets and bring them home. That was a dangerous thing to do and probably the reason her bodyguard kept glancing at me.

The rich woman on the far side of the table let out a quick sigh. She was well groomed. I wondered what a woman like her could do to require bodyguards in her own home.

My gaze wandered to him now. He wasn’t any more formally dressed than before. He stood more formally but the look felt unnatural on him. Alisha looked over at him as well.

“That’s Tye,” she explained.

The bodyguard started at his own name and looked at her.

“He’s been with me for quite a while. A good set of hands and eyes, when you need him. And a friend when you don’t.” Her expression softened as she said this. Tye looked away, embarrassed at the praise.

I tried not to embarrass him any more and instead looked dutifully at my plate. I wondered if Tye would intervene if she tried to kill me. Or if she tried to sell me off to the highest bidder…

Maybe not. Maybe it was best not to think about that.

Alisha stood and stretched, her back arched in a painful bend until there was an audible pop. “You must be tired,” she stated

I was not, but agreed. She stood and picked up her plate and then came around to pick up mine and wandered into the kitchen. I followed her.

Tye watched us go, but he didn’t follow, instead looking displeased that his boss was wandering off without him.

“Sara’ll be here soon to take over for you,” Alisha announced as she went. It took a moment for me to register that Sara had to be another bodyguard.

Tye nodded to where her silhouette was disappearing in the doorway.

Alisha set the dishes next to a sink in there, but did nothing further to clean them. She continued back into the main hallway with a gesture for me to follow.

It was against my better instincts but at this point I had little choice. I’d figure out an escape plan once I was alone. These people couldn’t keep an eye on me all the time and when I had my chance, I’d go out through one of the windows… if I could find one that opened.

Alisha opened one of a pair of double doors. On the other side, the air was cool and the lights dim. A lamp made out of a large chunk of crystal glowed a deep orange on top of a glass top nightstand next to an uncomfortably large bed. It must’ve been a king bed or bigger. It was definitely larger than anything I had slept in before. More alien was the size of this bedroom. An entire house (a small one) could fit inside. An area off to the side had a plush carpet in a pure, unblemished white. It was surrounded on three sides by a couch and bookshelves. A coffee table, again glass top, had a pitcher of water set up on it with an overturned glass.

I stopped before getting too close to any of the white furniture. Some part of my brain was acutely aware of how much filth I carried. And another part of it knew how horrible rich people could be if their precious possessions were sullied. Alisha didn’t hesitate to get inside and made her way over to a door on the far side. She opened it to reveal a small room full of clothing and shoes. She disappeared among the hangers and drawers for a while as I stood there. I had heard of walk-in closets but it was still absurd to me that anybody had that much stuff to need one.

When she came back, a folded bundle was in her arms. She held it out to me and pointed to a glass panel door off to the side.

“You can get changed in there,” she explained. I looked down at the clothing. A soft set of plain gray pajamas. Another bundle, that one black, was still in her other hand.

I followed her direction and found myself in a similarly styled bathroom as before but it had a much smaller bath and shower combo and only one sink. There was also personal care items stuck everywhere. Hand soap next to moisturizers and face washes, a small stack of white washcloths set onto a minishelf to the side of the sink and several plush white towels hung along the wall. It was the closest thing to Alisha’s personality I could see in the house so far. Everything was so clean and… blank. White and untarnished. 

I stripped out of my rags and folded and tucked them away as best as I could. It was the first time I had a chance to really look at myself in the mirror. My hair was soft again, and a golden blonde like it had been so long ago. My skin that had been scrubbed clean was also sun-kissed but sickly looking and I lifted my arms up slowly, observing the bones that seemed to ripple under my skin. I hadn't been feeding myself enough.

There was movement out in the bedroom so I hurriedly pulled the clean clothes on. Alisha was in her black pajamas and they looked good on her, fashionable even though they were simple things. I glanced down at where her clothes sagged off me unappealingly.

“You take the bed, I’ll be here if you need anything,” she said as if that was all there was to it. She settled in on the couch, pulling her legs up with her and shifting some pillows to support her head.

I couldn’t bring myself to get on the bed right away. I was significantly cleaner but still not clean enough to be comfortable in something so perfectly white and soft.

She gave me a stern look out the corner of her eye, again showing a very cold and unforgiving attitude. I swallowed and approached the bed. It was so big and tall. My hand sunk in when I leaned my weight against it.

This was absurd. Alisha was crazy. Or I was crazy. Or hallucinating… was this the afterlife? Had I withered away out on my street corner and she was some grim reaper preparing me for death?

I pulled my weight onto the mattress and oriented myself to lay on my back. There was no need to turn the light off. The dim amber was quite relaxing actually, And a sweet smell was slowly swirling into the room from an oil diffuser.

I would not sleep. I didn’t want to sleep. But my bones were worn and tired. My brain could've stayed awake all night but my body had other plans and it all went black.

The smells were savory. Bacon

, I realized. The smell was nostalgic and I forced my eyes open. A gritty film had accumulated in the corners again but it was gone with a quick rub. My hands were clean, I noticed. And actually kind of healthy looking. Why?Sleep, obviously. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept well. 

With a sudden jolt I realized I was still in Alisha’s bed and pushed off of it. My feet fell on clean wood flooring reflecting the sunlight from the big windows on the opposite side.

Had they been there yesterday? I wondered. I didn’t remember being able to see outside. Greenery crowded around the window. The rich colors of healthy tree leaves shimmered on the other side of the glass. I went to it, wondering if perhaps this could be a means of escape but the windows were like all the others. Sealed, not letting anything from the outside in under any circumstances. Not letting anything inside out. There was a door, but it had a very obvious deadbolt on it that needed a key. I rested a hand against the glass, finding the dappled colors very pretty. The trees in the city could be pretty sometimes. But they didn’t compare to this.

Then  I realized my mistake and hurriedly lifted my hand and started rubbing at the oily mark left behind. It only smeared further along the glass. There was no chance she wouldn’t notice that. Everything was so clean.

Embarrassed, I hurried back to get changed into my old clothes. These clean ones were strange and foreign and my heart was starting to beat rapidly against my chest. When I found where I put them the night before, though, they were gone, replaced with a clean and brand new pair of very similar clothes, still with the tags on them.

Surely not. Alisha wouldn’t be spending additional money to clothe me too now, would she? There was a note with a very neat handwriting.

For you, since your old ones were tattered.

No way.

I put my face in my hands for a minute trying to understand. She was gaining nothing from this. What did she want?

I unfolded a pale blue t-shirt with a cat printed on it and a pair of dark blue jeggings as well as a pair of panties and a bra that was an exact match for the one I’d had.

I plopped down to the floor. The brands and sizes were the same even if the colors and graphics were different. It was far more effort than I would expect from anybody. 

In the end, I couldn’t stay on the floor and stood, knees shaking to look in the mirror. The girl that stared back wasn’t the same girl I remembered. The dark circles were present but less intense than last night.

Maybe Alisha really was trying to help me. But again, why?

I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through my hair to help keep it somewhat tangle free and got changed. The clothes were baggy. I’d been heavier before the streets.

The smell of bacon led me to the kitchen, even if I wouldn’t’ve remembered the way there. The house had a strange layout of hallways, arranged in an arrow pattern off the foyer. So far I’d only seen a few of the rooms off the larger hallway. 

Alisha was at the stove, furrowing her brow intently at a frying pan where several strips of bacon were glued to the bottom of the pan. She looked up as I came in and gave me half a smile.

“You’re awake,” she said.

I nodded to her.

The friendly look didn’t suit her. The smile was forced and her eyes kept shifting a bit too much as she tried not to look at me but kept making eye contact and renewing her effort to keep a smile on her face.

“I hope you slept well,” she said. “I did my best not to wake you this morning.” She scraped some of the bacon out onto some plates and offered me one. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

I hadn’t had a good cup of coffee in so long. And the bacon smell was making me salivate. It would be rude to turn down an offer of food, right? I nodded, indicating I would like some coffee and she pulled two mugs down from a cupboard. She got the fresh pot off the machine and poured us both a hot cup. I had missed the smell of coffee, the way it seemed to cling to everything in the morning, no matter how cold it was out in the world.

“I like almond milk but I think there's the regular stuff too if you want it.” She said this as she bent over to look in the fridge. She’d changed out of her pajamas, too and was now wearing well fitted leggings underneath a very short dress that barely went past her ass. It emphasized the curve of her waist so well, she must’ve had it fitted. No off-the-rack clothing could fit somebody like that.

She offered me the milk and I gratefully took it with a very quiet ‘thanks’ and poured a generous amount into my mug. The coffee turned toffee-brown and I gave the carton back to her.

Alisha flicked her head toward the dining room and I followed her in there with my plate and mug.

She sat down halfway across the table once I’d sat down in the same seat as before.

I looked around. Something felt like it was missing and it wasn’t until I saw where Tye had been guarding the room yesterday that I realized what it was.

“I don’t have security with me all the time,” Alisha explained. She pulled a piece of bacon apart with a fork and knife and examined the resulting grease. “Usually in the mornings I have somebody just watch the cameras remotely in case anybody tries getting close to the house.”

I managed a sip of coffee and enjoyed it immensely. It was bitter but the milk was actually sweet and creamy on its own so it balanced out.

Alisha leaned her cheek against a fist as she kept observing me.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. The coffee was helping my voice and the words were clear even if it felt strange to vibrate my vocal cords willingly.

“It seemed like a shame to let you just wither away,” she said. “And I do what I want so…”

That didn’t entirely answer the question. “You’re not going to charge me money?” I asked. “I don’t have any. And my family… they’re not in the picture anymore.”

“I don’t need any money from you,” she said. “That’s not something I’m yearning for in any way.”

There had to be a reason, so if not money… maybe she was planning something more sinister.

“You’re free to leave at any time,” she said. “But I’d like to take care of you until you’re feeling better.”

I didn’t have much choice but to take that answer. She wasn’t about to provide any other.

“May I know your name?” Alisha asked. 

I shook my head solemnly. I’d rather that name die and never get dug up again.

She didn’t press, though and instead drank the last of her coffee with a contemplative look.

“I have to call you something so I’ll call you ‘kitten,’” she decided. She stood, gathering her dishes and went toward the kitchen. On her way, though, her hand gently patted the top of my head. “I hope that’s okay with you,” she said. “You were kinda like a stray out there. And now that you’re cleaned up a bit, you’re looking rather cute.”

My heart both sank into my stomach and floated up with warmth. Her hand was gentle and this time her face had a tiny ghost of a smile that didn’t have that forced look to it. But she was scary. People were scary and I was sure something would make me regret the decision to stay here. But for now, it wasn’t so bad.