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 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's head left in my bed, those Egyptian cotton sheets cost a fortune you know."  With that, he rang off. 

What about my head, I thought as I  slipped into panic mode, with my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I ran to the front door and locked it from the inside. I then went to the back door and made 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.

Then I heard the sound of breaking glass followed by heavy footsteps as someone hurriedly made their way up the stairs. I tried to imagine what 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)