A young cat was brought up in a filthy house, unnamed. Everyone she knew, her siblings, her mother, her father, the family dog, were all scattered across the floor, unmoving. She was the only one breathing the stale air. She ran to the family's rooms, but they were in the same state. She panicked and broke the brittle glass, her weak body falling to the soft, cold ground, the white showing through her eyes. She re-awoke in the warm arms of a girl, her parka green and purple, keeping her warm enough to awake. The only thing keeping her conscious, though, was the steady bounce of the girl's running movement. She frantically opened the door and sat by the fireplace with the small kitten. The cat curled into the girl's lap, now a sick old woman in her bed. Her voice rasped and the cat pushed the cover over the woman more now, the snow still falling outside, constantly closing the cold in on the small house, once warm, but still welcome.
"Blake..." the woman called out, her voice hoarse, "Save me the despair and help me sleep..."
Blake perked her ears up, then let them fall to her head, her sadness came as soon as her realization.
The woman carried Blake down the stairs in her normal hobble, and sat in front of the lit fireplace, setting the cat in her lap and covering her with her old parka, stroking the soft fur.