They said that cats had nine lives.

That they witness everything on this Earth nine times.

But they never said if those nine lives would be happy.

I.

When she first opened her eyes, fresh into a new life, she felt powerful.

Though she was small and required her mother’s fierce protection, she knew she was dangerous.

Other creatures that did not look like her, that did not bear the proud pelt of orange and black ran away from her. Others that did regarded her suspiciously, noses twitching and whiskers straight, tails flicking through the air.

There were not many as small as her, only a few through the streak but even then, as she grew bigger, they soon separated, her mother included, her protection no longer needed.

And then she was alone.

She roamed through the plains of the wild, hunting when she was hungry, sleeping when she was tired and ran through creatures that were small and flew away whenever she came close to them.  

And then she was not alone.

Another one like her, also powerful, also orange and black followed her one day as she trotted through the prairie, blood still fresh on her muzzle and her body taut with tension. This one was slightly smaller as compared to her, probably also younger with eyes that seemed so lost.

She assumed that this one must have been alone for a short while.

Though she preferred being alone, she allowed this young one to follow her around.

And as time went on, she discovered that she was very protective of this young one, willingly parting her kills for this stray she picked up.

The young one did not grow to be as hardy as she was, gambolling around when she had the time and often nuzzled into her side whenever it was time for them to sleep. Their bond grew and soon, throughout the plains, other animals learnt to avoid this tag team duo as they were as fierce as they were close.

A loud crack echoed through the prairie and small and large animals alike started running for their lives, unfamiliar smells permeating their homes as two legged creatures crawled through their home with black sticks that drew blood with a just a sound.

These two legged enemies came for them, their orange and black fur attracting their attention almost immediately.

She roared loudly, nudging for the younger one to leave, hissing whenever the two legged beasts came close to them, their scent burning through her nose.

The young one mewled, reluctant to leave her and she was forced to attack her, to drive her away from these brutes that gave off killing intent more potent than hers.

The smaller one took one last look at her, eyes wide and sad before leaving, silently rushing through the jungle to escape.

And she faced these otherworldly creatures, falling victim to the loud crack as pain blossomed through the side of her body.

And she was alone again, darkness claiming her.

II.

When she woke up, she found that she was small again.

But this time, she woke up alone.

There were white substance surrounding the opening of the area she made her home in. It was cold to touch but gave her the same relief as the prairie water did when she scooped it in . She found that she no longer wore a proud coat of orange and black. Instead, she was a muted grey with black spots, a pelt that blended in nicely with her new surroundings.

Her surroundings were quiet, unlike before.

Before there was always noise, the soft chirping of the creatures on trees, the gentle grunts of gigantic brutes she had learnt to avoid.

Now, it was silent, the atmosphere wide and empty.

It took her a long time before she dared to wander off further from her home, aware that this new place was as dangerous as it was beautiful.

And she remained alone here.

This time, she felt as though something was missing here, her mind wandering off to that time when a young one with bright orange and black fur stuck by her side.

The same little one that kept her warm at night.

These were the thoughts that stuck with her through this life.

III.

She opened her eyes to the face of a two legged creature, her body pressed up against this thing. Her legs were curled in front of her and she found that she was miles away from the ground but still moving. Her mode of transport cooed at her, inaudible sounds coming from this person as pale fingers the tip of her nose.

And she found that she was not alone.

There were a few just like her, some big, some small.

But all were under the care of this two legged beast that fed them at intervals and took them out of this cage they were in to let them roll about.

She found that she was constantly travelling, stuck in a confined space where there were too many limbs, brown fur brushing up against each other.

And then she learnt to listen to this long thing that snapped like the stick that took her life in her first cycle.

She learnt to obey the shouts her trainer yelled at her, jumping through rings of fire and sitting down obediently when she was told.

She knew she was a majestic creature, had the air of a king.

And yet, she was subjected to the whims of the object that cracked loudly and the instructions of this person.

But she did not lash out.

The trainer, a human she soon found out, was familiar.

It reminded her of that young one from so long ago.

It was the only thing that kept her calm, kept her apart from the rest of her kin, running and jumping as she was told for more humans that came to see her do these things and react like they were amused.

She continued to perform as such until her bones grew tired and weary, until her trainer with familiar eyes sat by her until she took her last breath.

IV.

Her life this time around ended before it even began.

She woke up smaller than she was used to, stuck in a world where everything was dark and stuffy, squished by other similar life forms that mewled and hissed as they tried to claw out of this gloom they were in.

This world was small and it became suffocating as it slowly became damp before she found herself being engulfed by water.

This same substance that she used to keep herself alive was now smothering her.

And as the blackness claimed her, she found herself wishing for familiar eyes to guide her to her next life.

And then she was unaware.

V.

This time, she was as small as she was the last time and as alone as she was the second time.

This time, she was surrounded by things that made loud noises and rushed past her without caring.

This time, her life ended just as quickly as the last as one of these quick brutes crashed into her and sent her flying, her tiny body wrecked and bleeding as she skidded on the ground.

She laid there for what felt like an eternity, humans and things rushing over her, ignoring that she was dying and refusing to aid her.

She cursed at her body, wishing that she was in one of her first few bodies because she would’ve gotten past this on her own.

In this life, she found herself dependent on others.

And these others did not care.

Even as she took her last breath, her eyes connecting with a little human, a young one being dragged away by a bigger human, she found that no one cared.

Not even that little one with eyes she knew.

VI.

If she counted right, this was her sixth life.

And it was just as gloomy as the last two.

How the mighty had fallen.

She was powerful, a creature to be feared in the beginning.

And now she was this small thing that could barely manage to scrounge for food in this concrete environment.

A place where two legged creatures were many and her kin were scarce.

It was a cruel place.

On her good days, she would find shelter and scraps. And maybe the little ones would find her adorable enough to play.

On the bad days, it would be raining, her appearance bedraggled and inviting attacks from two legged mammals that kept rushing from place to place.

She was constantly cold.

She was constantly hungry.

She was always alone.

She was always dreaming of warmth and kindness in deep, brown eyes.

And it remained that way till the day she passed in this life.

VII.

She was beautiful in this life.

Unlike her last life, there were people always fussing over her, helping her groom herself so well that she did not need to do it herself.

She never went hungry as there was always food in that bowl in the corner.

Her owner showered her with affection, cooing whenever she came near but never really touched her, fearing that her hands might taint her beauty.

Every once in awhile, she would be taken out of her home and into a place where other beautiful cats just like her would be at. There would be even more people there and there would be even more fussing over her because she had to be her best, had to be the one thing that stood out on display.

She puffed her chest like she was taught and blinked at the people gazing at her with round, glasslike items, holding still as they exclaimed over her beauty.

But never touching her.

She was never alone in this life.

But she was always lonely.

And just like the last life taught her about disappointments, hers came when her bones were weary and tired, this time, no kind hearted trainer to hold her close and keep her company.

Her owner still allowed her to live in the house, still fed her daily and made sure she was clean.

But there was no longer any attention, no longer any fussing.

And she had never felt more lonely that she did now.

One day, her owner came back with a new cat, one that was even more beautiful than she with coat painted sleek grey, contrasting with her coat as pale as snow.

And she resigned herself to living in solitary, knowing that her owner would never glance at her now, not when there was something so ethereal in the house now.

And so she remained by that window sill near the sun, silent and stoic, wondering when this life would come to an end, wondering why is it that her past few lives were so terrible.

Wondered why even as she was fed and taken care of, she felt tortured.

And then this new cat came up to her, with eyes as blue as the sky.

And so, so, familiar.

(But why can’t she remember anything more than that?)

She was taken aback when the cat nudged her with a paw before flopping down beside her, half her body covering her own.

Grey mixed with white and she was treated to nuzzling so reminiscent to her first life.

The house became slightly brighter after that.

VIII.

From riches to rags.

That was how she started out her eighth life.

This body was even weaker than the one from her fourth life, small and useless, her claws barely seen, her legs unable to hold her up. She could barely see, though this could be attributed to the gloom of the tiny cage she was in and one of her ears was malformed, torn in a way that seemed like a part of it was bitten off.

Her new home was extremely noisy, different noises serving as her backdrop every day and every night. She barely saw the sunlight and every now and then, people prodded into their cages, some with smiles, others with dangerous looking objects and cold expressions.

All of them soon found out that the animals that were taken away were killed, a white object with a silver tip pressed deep into th