June 25th, 2017
Dear Diary,
I lost myself. In the dream, I lost myself. I almost ate Bobby.
I was all the way a cat. Bobby was all the way a mouse. We were playing a game where I pretended to hunt him, and he pretended to run away. I would always get him by his tail, and I would always let him go when he squealed.
Seeing his little body breathing in and out was...it made me feel weird. The more I watched his sides heave, the more I felt like I had to watch. When I would pounce, the sound of his shrill squeals was somehow maddening. Each time, the squeals called out to me more. I started swatting him across the room and then walking after him as he would stumble away, stunned. I would wait for him to start moving faster again before I would give him another swat, eventually dealing two swats, one with each forepaw.
He finally stopped running away, and he just looked up at me as he was lying between my paws. I picked him up around his neck in my jaws at that point, and I was about to clench my jaws tightly and give him a shake. I felt my jaw muscles twitch as slobber filled my mouth. I was going to give him a swift shake, and I was feeling impatient because I was feeling hungry.
It somehow got through my awareness that something was wrong. I couldn't figure out what, though. As my feral cat brain tried to think it through, the reality of what was going on was just not coming through for me. That was the strangest part. The human part of my mind was in there somewhere, but it felt isolated and shrill, trying to reason with an animal's drives. My more awake cat-self struggled to listen to the distorted and disjointed, nonsensical reasoning of a human mind.
As I tasted the droplets of blood coming from where my teeth were digging in, I had the thought that maybe he wasn't clean. I mulled that over for a while, and I tried to figure out what to do with that thought. I didn't want to let him go, and I didn't want him to be dirty. I started licking the blood as it came out, then, so the wound would be clean.
I look back on that reasoning, and something feels very weird about it. It is weird because I still feel like it was the most logical thing to think. Some part of my mind was screaming that I was confusing two different senses of the concept of something being clean, and this reasoning was backwards. I didn't care, though. My cat brain was answering the demands of the human in a way that made sense to a cat brain.
It felt good to lick him. He tasted good, and as I licked him, his body went relaxed. I started licking every inch of his body as I held him tightly between my paws, keeping him helpless to run away. I started feeling so good that I started to purr, my whole body rumbling as the muscles deep in my throat whirred. Every lick felt like a bite of something that tasted very good to eat, and I felt happy. Each part of him had a different taste.
We eventually started to fall back to sleep, and that was where the dream ended.
I heard from a friend at school today that Bobby had been successfully restored, his mind mostly intact. The specialist is saying he'll need several weeks to fully recover all of his sensibility, though, since the Change hit him pretty hard.
I don't know what to make of these weird dreams, though. I will think some more about them, and I will get back to you. Until then, I remain
Your loyal friend and confidant,
Amanda