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Maybe no one’s ever wanted to before.

But with those words tonight, Quinn told me that she wants my love.

Maybe I just need to learn how to love her like she deserves. Because everything I’ve been doing so far to try to take care of her and show her I care isn’t fucking working.

Somehow, it’s doing the opposite.

I’ve made her feel unloved. And it fucking kills me.

I sit back in this quiet spot with the hum of the city beyond, where I’ve found the answers to so many of my problems over the years. And I notice a strange sound that doesn’t belong. This small, indistinct mewling.

At first, I think I’m imagining it. It’s just a child playing off in the distance, or a bird… but then it comes again, much clearer.

I get to my feet, adrenalin spiking.

I follow the sound, and the automatic lights come on as I circle the house, lighting my way through the dark. And right under my bedroom windows, low down under the edge of a bush, I find her.

Her green eyes shine at me when I crouch down.

I can tell that something’s not right.

I reach in, and when I try to put my hands around her, she mewls again. It’s a sound of fear. Or pain.

She’s hurt, I think, but I can’t tell where. “It’s okay,” I tell her gently. “I’ve got you.”

When I pick her up as carefully as I can, her hind leg flops strangely. She makes a pained little cry.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I swear at myself as I carry her into the family room and lay her down on the sofa. I think her leg is injured. And if it is… maybe she fell off the fucking roof? Just like I said she would.

I fucking knew this would happen.

I should’ve just let her into the house.

Would it have killed me to leave a window open for her on the first floor? Or put in a fucking cat door?

Now this sweet, small thing is in pain.

She’s broken, and it’s my fault.

I’ve just come home from school.

I’m standing in the foyer of my family’s house. I’m alone. But I can hear sounds in the distance, coming from upstairs—a door closing. Then the muffled voices of my siblings. My mom.

More than I can hear them… I can feel their sorrow.

I’m supposed to be there, with them.

I can hear Mom crying.

As I climb the stairs to the second floor, I hear helicopter blades.

When I get to the top of the stairs, I see the door to the room where the terrible thing is going to happen, and I know they’re waiting for me.

I hear my dad’s voice, calling to me, and I start to cry.

I hear thewhump whump whumpof the helicopter blades as I walk toward the door. The black cat runs across my path, startling me.

I’m confused.