What Goes On At Night: A Short Story

It’s dark. I wake, stretching my body as I make my way to the table. The leftover food from last night lay untouched in the bowl. Hmm, I think to myself. I’ll check for fresh food later.

My stomach is growling, but I am overwhelmed by the sudden urge to scratch. There is a big tree standing right next to the table, and I happily claw at the tree until my arms ache. Then I sit still, listening to the sounds in the dark.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes. Where is everybody?

Yawning, I make my way through the dark hallway, avoiding the scattered toys lying on the floor. Ooh, I think. This looked like fun! I drag the long white thing across the floor into the bedroom where my best friend is lying on her bed, and I sit myself down next to her, chewing on the long white thing.

She makes a sudden move – I guess she is asleep. My stomach rumbles again, and then I remember. Food.

Cautiously, I step over her leg, then her arm, and sniff at her face. Yep, this is my best friend in the whole world. I lick her face, and gently touch her cheek. She feels warm to the touch. I snuggle under her chin, rubbing my head against her chest.

I call to her. Hey, wake up. I’m hungry. She does not budge. I try again, scratching lightly on her nose this time.

Best friend? Wake up.

Her eyelids flutter. She squints at me, and rubs her eyes. “Indie? What do you want?”

Food. The food on the table isn’t fresh. I don’t like it.

She rubs my head, her fingers running down my back, and then behind my ear. It feels nice. “Aww, is someone hungry?” I purr in response.

“Okay, come with me to the kitchen.” I jump down from her bed and follow her every footstep, curling around her legs.

She picks up the bowls from the table, and brings them with her into the big room where they make the food. I follow closely behind, and jump on the lid of the trashcan, and then onto the counter where I can see her cleaning my bowls. I like my bowls clean.

I watch as she pours milk into one of the bowls, and then picks one of the many packets of food in the cupboard. She rips it open, and I can smell salmon. Mmm, salmon.

“There you go, Indie.” She says to me, and places the bowls on the table. I lick the milk, and then nibble furiously on the salmon. I love salmon.

I look at my best friend as she stands there, watching me eat. Thank you, I say. She just smiles and pets my head before kissing me goodnight and going back to her bedroom.