The Unsung Hero: Tom, The Hell Cat

While most of you know me for my notorious mouse-chasing on TV screens across the world, I know myself to be a cat who has had his own share of trials and tribulations. While most of you rooted for the tiny little mouse, Jerry, to beat me in one of our escapades, you failed to realize I am also a living, loving creature. It took my going to hell for you to realize I had my own sets of fears. You call your hypnic jerks terrifying, but have you seen what my creator did to me in the episode Heavenly Puss? Not only did I not appreciate the innuendo, but I also didn't like being subjected to such a brutal and violent plot just for your entertainment. While the cartoonist did what he had to do with my body, I am determined to tell you my story with my own words. It's time I reclaim my narrative and assert agency, something your species will never understand. 

The day was July 9th, 1949. The writers were ignorant, inconsiderate fools who put my body beside a fireplace during a hot summer day. Events with that stupid mouse led to my death: I was left crushed under a giant piano. Imagine being killed off in such a way. I have given such memorable moments to millions of you out there: parents bonding with their children over the "stupid, bumbling angry" cat chasing the "smart, clever and charismatic" mouse. Little runt! Oh, how desperately I wish to expose his devilish ways. No matter. The opportunity has presented itself and I shall take full advantage for I am the devious cat, after all, aren't I? 

I remember the doom that descended upon me as I saw that piano falling. I was hoping I would survive this cataclysmic accident as I do with the others, but alas, my destiny was written off, and off I went to the Heavenly Express. When the conductor was done analyzing my past, his withering stare renewed the sense of doom I had felt earlier. But little did I know, many more such instances were kept in store for me. Upon being handed the certificate of forgiveness which needed Jerry, my mortal enemy's signature, I swear I saw red. It is one thing to be evil and being given an impossible task to redeem yourself, but it's completely another when your innocence has to be signed off by the evilest creature in the world, let alone it being your murderer! I admit I was desperate and didn't think much of my dignity at that point. I ran to Jerry to beg him to sign the form. And well... the rest is history that has been enjoyed by millions alike. 

The ticking time clock, the empty pen, my unfortunate self, and that runt's innocent-looking eyes haunt me to this day. I vividly recall falling into that deep seemingly-endless pit of hell. Many fail to realize what that kind of a fall does to someone. The stereotypical flashing-of-life-before-one's-eyes is exactly that: a stereotype. Other than endless bouts of anxiety hitting me like a bucket of ice-cold water, I was hit with a morose sense of my life-ending. It was funny because before reaching the heavenly station, I was already a dead cat. But this was somehow more real than that. Maybe it was the finality of the situation finally registering in my soon-to-be-mush brain. Having heard all kinds of narratives about hell from humans, the thoughts in my head dictated a chant so singular in nature that it will baffle you: Cat hell will not be nearly as hellish as human society. It was such a strange thought to have occurred to a creature literally falling to hell, but its philosophic nature made me think even further about the kind of society you claim to live in. Not only are you terrible to each other, but terrible to animals as well. Not only are you hell-bent on ruining everything good in this world, but also cannot live without worsening the worse. You give yourself so much importance: your pride, your dignity, your vanity, your progression, and most amusing of all, your morality. For the most immoral creatures in the universe, you sure do ring the bells of morality a lot. You want others to abide by your rules while you continue to make rules that are simply not okay. Yeats, a well-known human even amongst our community, was so afraid of anarchy, that he himself died wishing for him to be reincarnated as an omniscient and omnipotent bird. A BIRD! 

And then I began contemplating the reasons behind such philosophic contemplation. I was thinking about humans during my last few moments as a semi-living cat. What a waste of time! So, I decided to do the next best thing: I screamed. I screamed at the top of my voice only to fall into the burning waters of cat hell, being poked by the devil dog's trident and being tortured endlessly for the rest of eternity. 

This scarring experience is then written off as a nightmare by the most foolish writers of the show. How endlessly careless and thoughtless! You cannot undo the trauma of such a visceral trip to cat hell and then call it a nightmare! What's most anguishing is that I was made to reconcile with Jerry at the end of the episode and that too out of gratitude!

Well, guess what? Screw that mouse. I am not here for it. You try and go to cat hell and then come back grateful to your own murderer. Many of you may call me a bitter old cat. Of course, I'll be bitter. You get restless when a text goes unanswered for a day, I was sent to CAT HELL for the entertainment of mere humans! CAT HELL! I could have let it all go but now, with this thing called the internet blowing up, you have the audacity to call my sufferings creepy? How appalling I find the human race: befuddled with your wars, riots, and prejudice, you fail to see the beauty behind my existence. While you destroy yourself, I make the purest of your race, the children, laugh. But then at what cost? Only to be ridiculed and sneered at as they slowly but surely become cynical pessimistic runts.

Hell maybe damning, but at least it has given me the clarity to know one thing: people will always appreciate those who are able to leash the bitterness the world causes within for no one really wants to look inside and realize that we are all the same. Everyone. Jerry is me. I am Jerry. So those of you who find Jerry so cute and cuddly, guess what? I am him. And he is me. So, I am cute and cuddly too.

Based on prompt number 13.