Blaise smirked. He looked down at the streets. Everything looked so beautiful under the shining night sky, in a view at the tenth floor balcony. He observed the shadows along the streets, the cars and their lights, the people wandering. Blaise frowned as he saw an old lady with long silver hair, petting a purple cat by the sidewalk. He rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him. He took one last sip from his cup, before deciding that the view was boring him. He decided to go down and look for his parents. Their business with the uncooperative people had been going on for far too long. He was too bored to just wait.

He walked into the luxurious hotel room.

They heard the door open. Blaise said nothing, but looked at them. His mother answered his silent question, "Wait on, Blaise. It'll just be a few more minutes."

Blaise sighed and went back to the balcony.

He tapped his finger on the table, waiting for something to happen. Anything. He knew that the so called few more minutes actually meant another hour or so. He stared at the full body mirror perpendicular to the table. He stared at it to pass the time. His hair had been messed up and was perfectly shiny. His skin was an unnatural pale tone, and the only thing he spotted wrong with himself was a glint of impatience in his deep, dark violet eyes. His eyes were purple, though no one else in his family had them. Most describe him as a splitting image of his mother, save for his eyes. His eyes were unique. He was actually glad. He detested being like anyone. He wanted to be himself, a completely unique identity.

Blaise sighed and took another look around. It was simply too boring. He didn't know why he even came with them. Surely his day would've been more fruitful if he had stayed home?

He remembered the old woman with the silver hair.

Blaise glanced at the street and saw the woman smiling at him. It was a sickly sweet smile, one that could easily make a fully grown man cry. Blaise had looked at her face. Along with her smile, her eyes glinted a creepy shade of yellow, almost like a cat's. It sent a chill down his spine.

Blaise could make out her lips forming words,

"Come here,"

He wondered momentarily if he should follow her. It was midnight, after all. On the other hand, it would probably take them another hour, possibly two, before they finish. He was bored. Besides, what harm could it do, right?

He ignored all attempts of his brain to tell him that it was dangerous. He stood up, walked down the hotel and to the old lady by the sidewalk.

Blaise took a cautious look around him. No hobos, no robbers, no muggers, at least, none that he could see. He wasn't actually sure if the fact that he was alone with the old lady was a good thing or not. He rubbed his arm and felt goose bumps. He wasn't really sure if it was from the cold, or from the old lady. Both were valid reasons for goose bumps.

He squinted, then realized that the old lady wasn't really old. Her long silver hair had given him a wrong impression. He brushed off his mistake, telling himself a viewpoint from the tenth floor balcony wasn't a great place to judge people on the street's ages. But he swore he saw clearly. No matter how weird it seemed, he knew that he saw her face as if she was only in front of him. He sighed, telling himself he was just getting sleepy.

"Meow." The cat purred, licking its purple fur.

It was all so unnatural. If it weren't for the icy cold wind hitting him right now, Blaise would've swore this was a dream. The silver hair, the golden eyes, the purple cat. If he proceeded to tackle the situation with logic, he would've told them that her hair was dyed, she was wearing contacts, and the cat played in purple paint sometime ago.


Blaise snapped out of his trance like state of mind, looking at the cat. It hissed at him, making him flinch.

"Now, now, Eehyah." The woman said, "Don't be mean to the poor boy."

The cat meowed once again.

"Good. Good boy." She crooned,

Blaise stood still, not letting the craziness of the situation affect him too much.

"Hello, young man." She said, "What are you doing here?"

"I was... bored, and tried to entertain myself by coming here." he said.

"Oh? What if I call one of the ghosts?"

"That's ridiculous. Ghosts aren't real."

"Mm? Is that so?" she said, smiling. He could see that thoughts were forming in her head, judging Blaise, making assumptions and labeling him. He felt self-concious.

"Yes." Blaise said. "Now, obviously that was a mistake. I've nothing to do here."

"Wait." She said. "What is your name?"

"Blaise." He said, scanning for any signs of anything. Interest? Enterntainment? He squinted, trying to study the lady. Trying to see if it would be safe to mind hack her, if she wielded no weapons.

"Ah. My name is Deana." She said.

Blaise froze. He didn't know why, but once she mentioned her name, it made a chill run down his spine, it was as if that name had triggered something cold inside of him.

"Eeyah wants to tell you something, Blaisey."

"It's Blaise." Blaise said, gritting his teeth and snapping, "and isn't Eeyah your cat?"

"Why yes, he is. Is that a problem?"

Blaise blinked, "No. It's just that, well, cats don't talk. Cats can't talk."


Blaise clenched his fists. Of course they can't, he thought.

"Eeyah wanted to give you this," Deana said, handing him a gold ring hung on a silver chain. The ring had something engraved on it, but Blaise couldn't tell what it was. It was too dark.

"What is this?" Blaise asked, holding the ring tightly, his knuckles going white from it.

"A pretty necklace," she said, "I think."

Blaise was getting annoyed. He gave the world thirty seconds to get something interesting to happen before he starts to run away.

"Wear it." she said again, smiling.

He frowned. He thought of the possibilities. It could kill him in a million ways, or it could prove fruitful and take away his boredom. And the most likely possibility would be that it would do nothing. Anyway, twenty-three seconds. He put the necklace on.

He saw the cat open his mouth, but instead of a meow, he heard a voice, "Can you hear me?"


It had to be a trick. A set up. There was a speaker, or a walkie talkie, or whatever near that cat. That was the only way it was possible, Blaise thought. There were a million logical explanations for the cat talking. Maybe he was dreaming. Yes, that was it. A dream. It explained everything without having to put to much thought into it. A woman with silver hair sitting on a bench, petting a purple cat? It had to be a dream. The thirty second countdown passed, but it didn't matter. Something interesting did happen, after all.

"..hey." the cat said, calling for his attention.

Blaise didn't know how to reply to that. It was a dream, after all.

"Don't ignore me!" The cat said,

Blaise swallowed, trying to push away his sense of shock. "Hello."

"Hello to you, too, human."

"If you don't mind me asking, how are you talking?" Blaise asked.

"I could ask you the same thing, human." Eeyah said, purring at him.

"I have vocal chords. Cats don't. You don't. Besides, how would you learn to talk with such a small cat brain? It can't be possible." Blaise said, questioning the cat in his dream.

"Hmph," the cat said, "That's none of your concern. And cats have vocal chords. In fact, we have two."

"Yeah, but what I meant was that cats don't use their vocal chords to talk. Cats use vocal chords to purr."

"I'll sum it up in a word: magic."

Internal mind explosion. "Ah. M-magic?"

"My ability to talk is not that important. What's important is that it's time."

"Time for what?" Blaise asked.

"Blaise!" a voice shouted. He recognized it as his mother's. He turned around and saw his parents, along with his sister, walk to the car. "We're going home! Get away from the lady hobo and come here."

Blaise flinched at his mother's choice of words. He had overestimated their time, giving himself a large error margin. He sighed and started to walk over to them.

Eeyah snarled, "If you are brave, Blaise, put on the ring at a time where nothing is happening, and read the inscription. Make sure nobody sees you. If you aren't courageous, then throw the ring in fire, and forget that any of this ever happened."

Blaise nodded and walked to their car. He wasn't sure why he wanted to follow him. It was a mere tug at his guts, telling him to do as the cat says.