The Italian Cat Sitter

I was relaxing indoors when I received the call from Mario. He told me that he wasn’t going to make it home that night and asked me if I could do him a favour and feed his cat. 

Mario was my next-door neighbour and I would often use his spare key to go round and feed the cat for him. So, I went round, let myself in and was just about to feed Benito when my mobile rang. It was Mario again. He asked me where I was, so I told him. 

"You Gotta get out of there," he said. “There are some guys on route, and they're not coming to shake your hand." He sounded serious but I smiled and cracked a joke about the Mafia. 

"If only you knew." I heard him whisper. 

"Look just get out of there and make sure you take Benito with you, the last thing I want is a dead cat left on my bed, those Egyptian cotton sheets cost a fortune you know."  With that, he rang off. 

What about me, I thought as I  slipped into panic mode. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest as I ran to the front door to lock it from the inside. I then went to the back door to make sure it was locked, leaving the key in place for a fast getaway. 

Benito was upstairs hiding under the bed. I'd only just squeezed under it to grab him when there was a knock at the front door.

"We're not going to answer that," I told Benito.

That was followed by the sound of breaking glass, and then heavy footsteps as, someone made their way up the stairs. 

My mind was racing and I imagine dwhat tomorrow's headlines might be; RETIRED COUNCIL CLERK AND CAT FOUND TORTURED AND MURDERED. SICILIAN HIT SQUAD SUSPECTED. Then the bedroom door burst open. 

THE END

(An adaption of the winning entry of The Writers Bureau student competition 2019)