Soter
Initiated
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2024
- Posts
- 679
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- 832
Today I buried my cat. She was old, and I knew her time was near — but I still wasn't ready. My parents called me saying she was dying, that I should come. I didn’t rush. She’s had lows before and always recovered. I spent time getting ready, lost my keys, then drove back. Even then, instead of going straight in, I lingered. Took a detour to the woods — a place of solitude for me — and spent a few moments there trying to center myself, trying to ask for help in my own way.
By the time I got home, it was too late. She had died while I was gone. I wasn’t there to see her off. She was lying on the floor, mouth slightly open, body still warm. It crushed me.
But there’s something else.
The night before, I had gone to the gym. There’s a cemetery nearby I’d never been to, but during a break I wandered up the hill and found myself at its edge. I was smoking, saw the boundary of the graves, and stepped back out of respect. But something compelled me to walk the perimeter. I wasn’t looking for anything — just pacing, thinking.
Near the end of the loop, I saw a statue. Pale, human-sized, vaguely shaped like a person but wrong — distorted, twisted in a way that was hard to describe. Something about it felt off. Not just eerie. Foul, demonic. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. I took a photo of it and deleted it not long after — it felt wrong to keep. Showed it to my mother after my cat died. It disturbed her too.
Now looking back, it feels like a warning. I don’t believe in coincidences like this. Not anymore.
I’ve been off track lately — let myself slip, fell into bad habits.
Maybe that’s why I wasn’t ready. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t there when she needed me most.
I loved her with all my heart. She was a true friend, she was there for me throughout my teenage years, on my lowest days when I wanted to kill myself, she would come sit in my lap and suddenly everything felt like it was not so bad, that it will all be alright eventually. It will never be the same without her...
By the time I got home, it was too late. She had died while I was gone. I wasn’t there to see her off. She was lying on the floor, mouth slightly open, body still warm. It crushed me.
But there’s something else.
The night before, I had gone to the gym. There’s a cemetery nearby I’d never been to, but during a break I wandered up the hill and found myself at its edge. I was smoking, saw the boundary of the graves, and stepped back out of respect. But something compelled me to walk the perimeter. I wasn’t looking for anything — just pacing, thinking.
Near the end of the loop, I saw a statue. Pale, human-sized, vaguely shaped like a person but wrong — distorted, twisted in a way that was hard to describe. Something about it felt off. Not just eerie. Foul, demonic. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. I took a photo of it and deleted it not long after — it felt wrong to keep. Showed it to my mother after my cat died. It disturbed her too.
Now looking back, it feels like a warning. I don’t believe in coincidences like this. Not anymore.
I’ve been off track lately — let myself slip, fell into bad habits.
Maybe that’s why I wasn’t ready. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t there when she needed me most.
I loved her with all my heart. She was a true friend, she was there for me throughout my teenage years, on my lowest days when I wanted to kill myself, she would come sit in my lap and suddenly everything felt like it was not so bad, that it will all be alright eventually. It will never be the same without her...
ur cat was a demon bruh
