The saga began when Kilo refused to ‘bob for apples’ at Jack DeLong’s ninth birthday party. Though clearly passionate, Jack’s six year old sister, Samantha, used her high-pitched voice to relay the rules of the game in excruciating detail to Kilo, fuelling his distaste for a game that was, quite frankly, demeaning at best and degrading at worst and certainly not worthy of an individual possessing even a fleeting desire to graduate Greenvale School with his dignity intact. Taking this opportunity to reflect on matters far more worthy of his time, Kilo excused himself from the kitchen where the events were about to take place and went and sat on the living room sofa. As if she had been waiting for Kilo her whole life, Jack’s pet cat, Luna, jumped up into his lap, purring so ferociously that Kilo chuckled at the thought that she may have swallowed a miniature motorbike. Luna dedicated the next several seconds to padding down Kilo’s jeans and, once the desired softness had been achieved, curled up into a perfect ball on his lap.
Kilo admired the esteem with which cats held themselves, but it was their ability to get humans to adhere to their every whim that impressed him the most. With one or two well-timed meows, cats could force humans to feed them, open doors for them or organise a place for them to sleep. Their entire day was filled with doing exactly what they wanted: nothing less and certainly nothing more. The sounds of laughter drifted further into the background as Kilo and Luna silently encouraged each other to close their eyes and drift off to sleep.
It was difficult for Kilo to think of anything worse than waking up to the sounds of seven out-of-tune children singing Happy Birthday, yet this was the exact predicament in which Kilo now found himself. Luna and Kilo looked at each other with equal amounts of disgust as the dreadfulness of their situation dawned on them. Kilo turned his body and rested his left elbow on the top of the sofa to better see the crowd desperately vying for the rare positions closet to the triple-layered chocolate cake. He squinted and yawned before picking Luna up from the cat-shaped ditch forged into his lap and made his way over to the table just in time for the crowd to cease their singing. The Birthday Boy dutifully drew in a deep breath and let out an almighty blow, much to the delight of both the younger and older people present at today’s celebration. The blow didn’t quite have the desired effect, however, leaving a single candle blowing alone in the stillness of the dining room. In what many students at Greenvale would later consider the catalyst for the following events, Kilo let out a subtle, yet very audible, chuckle.
Jack issued an intense challenge to Kilo for him to do better, emphasising the importance of ensuring all nine candles on the cake be completely blown out should he stand any chance of receiving the benefits associate with the elusive wish. Although he found the tradition of blowing out candles to be far more odd than people gave it credit for, Kilo had exactly zero intentions of leaving this party with a tainted reputation, so he accepted the challenge. Once they had been lit, Kilo lifted his head back, took a breath and blew every single one of the candles out for good. Kilo would never know if the party guests were genuinely impressed by his efforts, or if they were clapping loudly just to encourage the moment to end a little quicker. Either way, all of the candles had been blown out just as his friend had asked and, just for his own amusement, Kilo made sure he made a wish while watching the last puff of black smoke drift out from the top of the red and white candle.
That was three weeks ago, and Kilo had been trapped inside of a cat’s body ever since. He had made the wish “to be a cat” under the incorrect assumption that most wishes would, or could, never come true. Sitting down and licking the loose hairs from his body for the third time that day, Kilo now knew this was not the case. Although it had its positive moments, being a cat was nowhere near as grand or decadent as he had first presumed, but it was decent enough. As Kilo settled in for the night, lifting his head occasionally to sniff the night-time breeze finding its way through the open window in his room, his thoughts jumped from one idea to the next, with one burning question that he was unable to communicate: If he was here, then what had happened to Luna?
On the bench in the kitchen, an untouched lolly-bag faded out of view as Kilo rolled on to his stomach and went to sleep for the eighth-hour that day,
My name is Gregg Savage and, every night when the house is quiet, I write and publish a free children’s story at dailytales.com.au for you to share and enjoy.
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