Here,no ane calls me by name

I don’t know exactly how much time has passed since those big wheels left black streaks on the cement and threw me into this concrete nightmare.

An eternity has gone by.

Sometimes, when the rain hits the soft roof of my box, I close my eyes tightly and pretend I am back in my corner of the room where the sun drew golden shadows on the hardwood floor.

It was warm there.

I perfectly remember how mornings always began with the soft rustle of her bare footsteps and the way the gentle light seeped through the thin bedroom curtains.

Then I would hear her.

Her voice was the most beautiful sound in my entire universe, a warm melody that I could recognize out of a thousand and which chased away all my fears.

She would call me.

She spoke that special word humans call a name, long and cheerful, and I would immediately raise my ears to show her I was completely hers.

I was happy.

In my world bounded by four walls, I had a white ceramic bowl, an old rag toy, and a favorite spot on the windowsill from where I watched the birds.

Everything seemed eternal.

But on that autumn day, the air in the house suddenly became heavy and electric, and her gentle movements turned into a panicked rush that made me hide under the table.

Something was wrong.

She opened the closet with a metallic clash of banging hangers, slammed drawers, and stuffed a few clothes into a huge bag that smelled of dust.

She looked at me.

Her eyes no longer held the warmth of before; instead, they were fixed and cold as her arms reached down to pick me up.

I was afraid.

When she pressed me to her chest, I felt her heart beating terribly fast, like a trapped bird in a cramped cage desperately looking for its freedom.

She took me outside.

She led me out into the biting cold that went straight into my nostrils and placed me on the passenger seat of the big metal box that smelled of burnt gasoline.

The door closed.

The engine started with a loud growl that shook the entire space, and through the dirty glass, I watched our house gradually disappear behind us.

We never went back.

The drive lasted for hours, and the city appearing through the glass grew increasingly gigantic, filled with gray buildings that blocked out the sky and traffic lights that left spots on my retina.

Everything was foreign.

When the car finally stopped on a narrow, dark alley, she got out quickly and took me in her arms with feverish haste.

She put me down.

My pads touched the hardness of the cold asphalt for the first time, and when I turned to look at her, I saw her face remain completely motionless.

She said nothing.

I approached her ankles and rubbed my snout against her stiff jeans, leaving my scent there as a silent plea not to leave me alone.

She turned abruptly.

She took two steps back toward the open car door, and I started after her in fear, padding with my little paws on the dirty ground.

She got inside.

The car door slammed with a deafening noise that crushed my eardrums, and the wheels moved instantly, throwing pebbles in their wake.

She left.

I started running as fast as I could, my chest close to the pavement and my eyes fixed on the two red lights growing smaller in the distance.

I stopped.

My lungs were burning from the effort, the car had disappeared around the corner of a huge apartment building, and I was left alone in the middle of a road I didn’t know.

I waited for her.

The first drop of rain hit me straight on the nose, and in just a few minutes, the sky opened up and a furious storm soaked my fur, plastering it painfully against my skin.

The cold collapsed me.

I ran blindly through the torrents, dodging cars that passed by like blinding beasts and people who walked hurriedly under black umbrellas without looking down.

Nobody saw me.

I found an abandoned cardboard box next to a damp wall and slipped inside, curling my body into a small ball that trembled from every joint.

I licked my paw.

The taste was salty and bitter, so I closed my eyes and touched my old collar with my snout—the only thing left that proved I once had a home.

I fell asleep crying.

When I woke up, it was raining just as miserably, the cardboard above me was giving way, and my stomach clenched like a fist from a new hunger.

I was alone.

I poked my head out and mewed at a man passing by, but his heavy boot passed just a few centimeters from me, splashing me with mud.

People avoided me.

The surrounding city was a living chaos of honks and footsteps, where every person had a place to go and every living being belonged to someone.

I had no one.

Inside me, with the last ounce of energy, I called out her name, hoping the echo of my voice would cut through the rain and bring her back.

No answer came.

The hours drained away like slow venom; my body had gone completely numb from the dampness, and I was ready for this to be the end of my road.

Then, something was heard.

Through the dull thud of the raindrops, I distinguished slow, calculated steps that stopped right in front of my hiding place, blocking out the street light.

A shadow fell.

I froze with my ears pinned to my head, expecting a blow or a shout to chase me away, just as the street had taught me during nightmare nights.

A voice came down.

It was low, incredibly warm, and carried a gentleness I thought was lost forever in this city of stone.

It smelled of chamomile.

A silhouette dropped to its knees right in the mud, and a long hand slowly reached out toward me, stopping halfway so as not to scare me.

I looked at it.

I looked at that open palm waiting for my permission, then I looked into the human’s eyes and saw a sadness in them that perfectly mirrored my own.

They truly saw me.

Still, a pang of heartache pierced me, because this stranger was kind, but they were not her; they didn’t know my past and didn’t know my real name.

I felt a sting.

I let out a mew so weak it could barely be heard, and the human smiled sadly as a tear slowly rolled down their cheek.

I moved forward.

Their hand took another small step toward me, and I, though trembling from every joint, advanced and pressed my wet nose against their warm skin.

I chose to live.