AN: My first story. Please R&R and tell me if you want me to continue. I actually wrote this about a year ago and just found it again now.

There he was, perfect. Standing there, on the shelf, looking respectable in his blue jacket with the shiny, round, black buttons. He wore a white dress shirt with blue and white striped pants. Then there was his tie, the silkiest red tie there is, with an amber rhinestone expertly place in the center, almost matching the shade his fur. His fur was a pale yellow, not quite as deep as the stone, and he had brown stripes.

Every time I went into Rocking horse Toys he was all I wanted. I would stand there for hours on end smiling up at his small black bead eyes. One day the nice old man who owned the store even let me hold him. All I could do was sit there, stroking his felt head and admire his catty looks. He was everything I wanted and more, but my parents were too poor to buy him for me.

Then one day a big business man came in to return a gift, but the old man couldn't give him back the money, so he gave him store credit. The nice old man didn't have anything in the store at the moment that would work, so the business man left. He returned again the next day with his daughter in tow so she could use the store credit. She looked through the store, at every nook and cranny but found nothing she had to have, so they left.

Later that month the business man returned with his son. The boy was younger than his sister, but not much older than me. That day the nice old man had let me hold the cat again and I was stroking his head as they came in. The son searched the store much like his sister had, but the only thing he noticed was me, sitting on the floor watching him while holding the cat. He asked me if he could see the cat and I nodded and held it out to him. After looking at it for a few moments he turned, walked up to his dad, and handed him the cat to be purchased.

I was devastated, and all I could do was stand there and watch as the old man tied a blue bow around the cat's neck, covering his tie with the blue ribbon. All I could do was try not to cry as the old man handed the cat to the boy with a smile. So I got up off the floor and headed to the door. Once I was barely out of the store I heard the door open once again and felt a hand rest on my shoulder. I turned with a jump, to find the boy smiling at me. He handed me the cat and kissed me on the cheek and ran inside. That was the last time I saw him.

Now I am in high school, and I still tow around the cat. I never named him; just carry him around with me. He always looks out of place, since I dress in black all the time. You could call me a Goth but I'm definitely not emo, to happy to be. Sure the good old metal and Goth rock is good, but I also like the insanely happy DDR music. Those are the only two genres I like.

My family has changed alot since then. There was a fire four days after I got the cat; it killed both of my parents, my only family. I was quickly adopted by a rich pair. They wanted a child but were at a point where if they had a baby, by the time it was 15, they would be ready to retire.

Much has changed, as you can tell, but my love for the cat will never sway, nor will I ever look at him and not have the face of the boy who gave him to me run through my mind...

AN: Well, thats the first chapter. Tells mes what you think.