The Missing Black Cat
This is a story that was quite popular back in my secondary school days.
In my secondary school, there used to be a resident cat. It was a typical cat, black, fat and cute. Just as most adorable resident pets, it receives a considerable amount of attentions from the students, winning everyone’s affection and care.
On the other hand, there is also another creature at the other end of the scale. As with every school, bullying is commonplace and rampant. This particular student receives the blunt of most of the abuse. He was a typical Indian student, black, fat and in a sad way cute, as viewed by those who bully him. He also suffers from autism, thus preventing him from escaping the vicious cycle of bullying. He’ll respond to every insult with an outburst, which was comical, thus causing his bullies to continue their acts.
The only thing that kept him going was the cat. He wanted it, he wanted to be like it, he wanted to be it. He wanted to be pet by hot schoolgirls with their tight uniforms, he wanted to snuggle into those warm boobs just as when the girls cuddle the cat, he wanted the affection of everyone and he wanted to be free from bullying.
As you guys remember, we use to have art lessons back in our lower secondary days. Most art teachers would teach is how to make a paper mache. You cover an object with strips of wet paper, usually a balloon, to create the desired shape. The students were given a week’s time to prepare an art piece each to be graded and most of them don’t really bother to finish, since no one cared about art and craft.
After a week, the teacher, expecting no one to do their work, was surprised when one student brought up his work to be graded. The class, however, wasn’t really surprised. The autistic student was also known to be hardworking in an attempt to be the pet of whichever teacher that pities him.
The work was good as usual. It was a large piece of work, painted black. Upon closer inspection, the features of the paper mache was so defined that the teacher thought that the object was not removed.
“Did you remember to remove the object?” the curious teacher inquired. He was uncertain as the paper mache was light.
“Yes. I removed everything inside the object and pumped it with my tire pump,” the student replied with a slight, almost sinister grin.
From that day on, the resident cat was never to be seen again…