The Glass Cat – June 2022 Short Story Picture Prompt Contest Winner

The Glass Cat 

by Emerson Wilson

     It’s safe in here, I tell myself. It’s safe in here. 

     I’ve been assigned to one of the highest rooms in the Eastern Towers of Channa, the capital city of the Kingdom of Reunia. Being fourteen years old, I am determined capable by the king’s council to have my own room. Yet at the same time, I am still located in the children’s cohort of the Tower, meaning extra guards are present, provisions from the Tower’s depositories are brought to me by castle workers, and I have no real work to do (just lots and lots of hobbies). So yeah, I’m pretty safe. 

     But sometimes I think about out there and… never mind. It’s safe in here. That’s all that matters.

     The crackle of my fireplace drones on, giving a dull light to my little room. After hours of reading the same book I’ve read at least three times before (hobbies are limited when you don’t go anywhere), I decided to walk around a little bit. My legs feel cramped. 

     Small circles are the most I can walk in my tiny room. Of course, don’t get me wrong, that is far better than being out there. After a few minutes of walking, I sit down again.

     My eyes wander to the faint picture of the king that hangs on the wall and anger begins to bubble up inside. I push it down. It’s safe in here, no matter what that stupid king thinks. Yet my eyes wander again to the rather ordinary-looking king. At the time the picture was painted, which was right before the kingdom fell to its current awful state (about five years ago), he was a young teen, barely a man at all. The only thing that stood out about this boy was his glorious crown - majestic, large, and royal, it stood tall on him and was the only thing that really made him look like a king.

     I close my eyes and remember the day my life got flipped upside down by this horrible king:

     It had been four years since the Kingdom of Reunia had practically fallen to our enemies. Though for centuries the ancient kingdom had been known as “The Great Lion” because of its strength and majesty, the deadly Kingdom of Menda-Ciumia had finally started to defeat us in battles. 

     And now, our kingdom was in a state of fear. Rumors of the adversary’s brutal punishments spread like a wildfire, people began storing necessities to prepare for war, and though the king urged his people to be brave and join him in fighting, practically no one left their houses.

     Soon, even our houses weren’t safe. The king and his council arranged that all citizens be relocated to assigned rooms in the large and secured cities of Channa, Dressell, and Winchird, along with 10 other of the most fortified cities in the kingdom.

     Though terror dwelled in the kingdom, my mother and I were relatively content. While tea parties, walks in the countryside, and trips to the bakery were gone, we still had each other and that was all we needed. Yet day and night a subtle fear ate at me. I knew my mother would fight if the king requested her. And I knew he would.

     The day was going ordinarily until my mother sat me down.

     “Salome, my dear,” she said in her soft voice. It had almost a sing-song tone to it, yet no one could mistake how valiant this woman was.

     “Mama,” I replied with a smile. My heart nervously quickened because I saw the look in my mother’s eyes. 

     “I must go now. I must listen to His Majesty and he has requested my service,” she began. Her words came out quickly because she knew the protest that would follow:

“No, Mama! No!” 

     “I will be fine,” she said firmly. Her gentle hands held my frightened face. “I promise you, I will be fine. We must trust the king.”

     “No, Mama,” I sobbed. The news I dreaded had finally come.

     “But you promise me one thing, my dear Salome,” she continued. “You promise me that when the king calls you-”

     “What?”

     “-then you too will obey. It’s crucial, Salome. There is a danger that far outweighs some mighty warriors in clanging armor - the danger of being stuck in a life that is not our fullest. The fate of Reunia does not depend on another power, it depends on its people’s willingness to wake up again. Here,” She slid a glass cat figurine into my hands. “I know it’s beautiful now darling, but you wait and see. When you leap, it too will leap. And you’ll see that the beauty you once knew really wasn’t all that beautiful.”

     I didn’t really understand, but I held it carefully in my hands as she kissed my forehead. That night, my mother left to fulfill the king’s command. And I never saw her again.

     Now, a year from that day, I wonder if the king still calls people. He sure hasn’t called me. All he’s done is left me with a shadow of the joyful life I once had.

     I gaze at the only memory I have left of my mother - my glass cat. I keep it on my windowsill so that it can catch the sun’s light on sunny days. My heart warms more than fire could ever warm me when I see it because I think of her.

     But my heart also breaks into a million pieces when I look at it. So I decide to look away.

     Where are you, Mama? I think. Angry tears begin to form in my eyes. Like this hasn’t happened a million times. Where’s the beauty you promi-

     CRASH!

     My head snaps to my window. Glass lays all over my windowsill and the floor, and a chill fills the room. There’s a huge hole in my window. And my cat - it’s gone.

     “Hey!” I yell, leaping up to the window. I catch a glimpse of a guy in a black hoody. Through the flurry of snow, I see him attaching a rope from his body to the roof of the castle room below me. 

     Fear grips my heart, but I decide I have no other choice: I must get my glass cat back.

     I grab the unused gloves, snow coat, and snow boots I have in store and pull them on. Then, I slowly step out onto the roof.

     “Oh, goodness,” I whisper as the freezing snow hits my face. Even though everything in me wants to go back into the room, I focus on my cat and who gave me it.

     “Get back here you thief!” I scream. I see him look back at me.

     “You’re gonna have to come and get me!” he shouts. And with that, he waves my glass cat in the air and jumps. Hardly knowing what I’m doing, I bolt towards the spot he jumped from.

     It feels like the breath is sucked out of my lungs when I see how high up I really am. Okay Salome, just focus on the cat. Glass cat, glass cat, glass cat. 

     I cautiously sit down on the edge of the roof and tightly hold onto the boy’s rope. 

     And then, I jump. 

     I slide down the rope so fast that my hands start to burn through the gloves, yet time seems to freeze. All around me are beautiful things I haven’t seen in so long. The white skies are so open and endless, and in the distance, I see the outline of elegant structures. I smile as I see the kingdom’s famous factory pipes standing tall and far away; I remember always asking Mama why clouds were coming out of them, and she would always say, “Well, how do you know that the clouds aren’t being sucked in?” We would laugh until our stomachs hurt. 

     The rope ends right at the corner of this side of the Eastern tower. I see the thief jump onto the first open balcony that’s on the next side of the tower, the side that I remember looks onto the Great Town Square.

     I leap onto that same balcony and stumble as I land. 

     “You alright?” the boy says, reaching out a rough hand. A shadow is cast across his face due to his oversized hood, but I can tell he’s an older teen. His face seems strangely kind.

     I stand up and brush the snow off my pants, ignoring his hand. And then I look right into his shaded eyes and practically shriek, “You THIEF! You horrible THIEF!” I take a grab towards his hand, but he swiftly pulls it away. Right before I take another jab something else abruptly steals my attention.

     It’s the noise of a multitude of voices - hundreds, thousands, possibly millions. In one voice they sing a glorious song in words too distant to hear. Their voices sound like the mighty roar of an ocean, like the most beautiful song on the harp, and it sends a shiver down my spine. 

     And that is when I finally look to the left of me. From the balcony that we’re on, I can see the whole town square (which extends a long way). At the far end of the town square, I see the most magnificent structure. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. Its majestic tower extends higher than any of the surrounding towers, and elevated far off the ground sits a large golden balcony meant for the king. Standing there, one could see all of Channa and still be seen by all of the people in the town square. 

     While seeing all this, the distant noise of singing voices seems to grow louder and more hopeful - almost as if all of the voices belong here and are saying, “Look here! Look here! This is where we come from!” Yet at the same time, the voices seem to also come from inside - a long way in my memory and deep in my heart.

     Though I have no respect for the king nor his glory, I can’t help but feel in awe of this scene. 

     “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” says the thief. I had forgotten he was even there! I force myself to stop looking at the splendor of the square and spin around to the thief. 

     “Give me back my cat,” I say calmly, still a little dazed by what I have seen and by the voices I still hear. 

     “I’ll give you something even better,” he says. The boy throws the cat over the balcony. 

     My precious figurine, my only treasure, crashes onto the town square floor. The sound of the glass breaking instantly silences the wonderful choir I was just hearing. 

     “No,” I groan. My feet find their way down a flight of stairs, out a door, and onto the snow-covered town square floor. I feel barely alive.

     Dropping to my knees next to the pitiable remains of my glass cat, I sob into my hands. Each body-shaking cry comes out one after another like raindrops falling out of a rainwater pipe. That sick feeling from when I realized my mother wouldn’t return comes back to me in full. It’s always been there. Just not like this. 

     With shaking hands, I automatically take off my gloves and blindly feel for the pieces of my shattered cat figurine, with the feeble hope that I can put it back together.

     I expect to feel hard, sharp pieces of glass, but I feel something soft. My weeping stops instantly from the shock, and slowly I lift my eyes.

     In the place where my glass cat broke sits something that looks unreal: the most beautiful cat I have ever seen. Not my glass cat - a real cat! With orange and brown fur like a lion, it’s a replica of the cat figurine my mother gave me. Its mint eyes stare back at me with curiosity.

     “You don’t realize how fake it’s all become until you remember how…real it can actually be,” the thief quietly says. I look up to see that he’s been watching me this whole time. 

     “Who are you?” I demand.

     He shrugs, “Some call me a thief, others a hero. I guess you can choose.” 

     Though I try to resist, I can’t help but grin. The boy is practically wearing a mask with that hood of his. And he’s even wearing black gloves!

     I look back down at my cat and gently stroke its fur. I feel a soft purr.

     “You know, your mother, er-” he begins again. My head snaps up. “She is a brave woman.”

     “How do you know my mother?” I command.

     “I worked with her,” he mumbles. 

     “Oh. Well, you’re right. She was a brave woman. But …that wretched king took her.”

“What do you mean?” he asks. He looks very interested. 

     My voice drops to a sad whisper. “He requested her to fight. I’ve never seen her since. Who knows where the king is, anyways. Probably flew to a faraway land for safety, with the money he has.”

     “Why do you think that?”

     “Have you heard of the king making any moves recently? Have you heard anything about him?”

     “Well,” he says thoughtfully. “There are other ways for kings to act. They might be doing stuff in a less obvious way.”

     “Oh yeah, like what?” I look at him curiously. Why’s he even trying to defend the king?

     “Like working to build up his people and restore the kingdom from the inside out. Even if he’s recruiting one by one, he’s still acting. See, if a king and his army win a million battles, but have a people locked in fear and hurt, he hasn’t really won, has he?” 

     I look intently at the thief. Or is he a hero? Or a magician?

     “You still haven’t told me who you are,” I say.

     “I did - you get to choose, remember?” I can hear the tease in his voice.

     I roll my eyes. Pulling my cat close to me and gazing again into the beautiful town square, I continue: “I guess you’re sort of a borrower. You take something, then you give it back…just in better condition!” 

     When I don’t hear the chuckle I expect, I turn. 

     And the boy’s gone.

     Frantically, I look around at all of the nearby balconies, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. That’s when I realize that everything around me - the balconies, the walkways, the whole town square - is empty. 

     Sadly, I take it all in. Thinking about the beautiful voices I heard, I wonder if what the thief said about a king really winning is true. What would it be like if this place, the Great Town Square, was brimming with the kingdom’s people? Slowly I turn in a circle and imagine it.

     Suddenly, I see a movement out of the corner of my eye. I halt and see that the movement came from two silhouettes in a distant Tower room window: in the lit room I see the outline of a fancy teacup set on the windowsill, and on the outside, holding out his hand as if to take the teacups, I see the figure of a boy - thief boy.

     “Oh, thief boy. You’re at it again,” I laugh. Turning to my cat I say, “He’s so interesting, isn’t h-”

     I do a double-take.

     What I didn’t notice before was that the figure in the window - the thief boy’s figure - has something large on his head. Squinting my eyes I can now see that it’s a crown…a glorious crown. Majestic, large, and royal, it stands tall in the shadow and makes him look like a king.

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