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97.5 FM The Scare: Lillith and Her Cat

“Um, hi…my name is Lillith. I called the right number, right? I’d be pretty embarrassed to say what I’m about to say if not.”

“This is Castor Cloverfield, host of 97.5 FM: The Scare. You’re on The World’s Most Skeptical Radio Show. If you’re here to share a scary story, the world is here to listen.”

“O-oh ok, good… Well then, here’s my story. My name is Lillith, I already said that, and I’m 27. I married my high school sweetheart straight after graduation, I was just barely 18. That was my first relationship, which I’m sure everyone can already tell doesn’t really bode well for most marriages. Mine included. We broke up last year, and it wasn’t pretty. I won’t go into detail though, that’s for my therapist and also isn’t why I called. It’s about what happened afterwards. So…ok, after we divorced, I moved out because he was an asshole and I didn’t want to fight about it. My job pays well enough that I can support myself, so I moved into a small apartment. It was cozy, and it was all I needed for just one person. I wasn’t alone though, I had my cat. She was always mine to begin with, and Rob hated her anyways so she was the one thing that wasn’t a headache to keep. Her name is Rosie, and she’s a tiny gray cat with the biggest, bluest eyes you’d ever see. I…had a picture on hand but I sort of forgot how radio works for a second. Anyways, she was my rock during the divorce. Always there to snuggle me when I was crying, or snuggle me while I binge watched my shows to avoid my feelings, just a big ol’ cuddlebug, y’know? Plus, I don’t think she liked Rob either so I’m sure she was just happy he disappeared from her life. Over time, things got better. My job gave me a promotion, I made some really cool friends, I felt like I became my own person again. I was used to feeling really insecure and controlled, but now I had regained my freedom. For the first time in almost a decade, I felt like myself…And then I had another episode. Um, I get seizures every so often, they get pretty intense. I end up just falling over, unable to move, see or speak. The condition is called catalepsy, it’s a neurological disorder. It kind of feels like…sleep paralysis. But worse. Like an invisible entity is just holding me down, gluing me to the position I’m in no matter how unnatural, and making me into a stunned, lifeless marionette. My pulse slows down and I look like I’m not breathing, when it first happened my family thought I was dead. Sometimes I’m like that for a couple minutes, the worst time it happened was in college, and it went on for days. I had not had an episode in a very long time, I receive treatment for it and was honestly starting to believe maybe leaving my stressful relationship had somehow cured it? Stupid, but reasonably wishful, I think. But, I already said I had another episode. It was Friday evening, I had just gotten off work. I plopped right into my sofa with Rosie on my lap and got ready for a relaxing night. Something on the TV must’ve flashed and then it happened. This was a bad one. I came back to on Sunday……Sorry, I don’t like talking about what I woke up to but that’s what I’m here for. Kinda silly, but as soon as I started coming to my senses, I immediately began to freak out about Rosie. The last time I went catatonic, Rob was still around. He made sure Rosie was fed whenever I was gone, usually at the hospital since someone was around to take me. It was the only time he ever took care of her. I was still having trouble moving, so I was just darting around the room with my eyes trying to find her. But I quickly realized, she was on top of me…I couldn’t feel her weight, but I could hear something. Chewing. I was relieved, she must’ve somehow stretched out her last meal and still thought we were snuggling. But then I saw blood. My blood. My cat was eating me. Her little muzzle was caked in dry blood as a result of her nibbling through my flesh to the meat inside. Just sinewy shreds of…me…hanging out of her mouth! I screamed, and her tail became puffed up with fear. She darted away and hid under my bed, her hiding spot for when she felt like she was in danger. Perhaps it was the fact that I was still waking up, or adrenaline, but I couldn’t feel anything as I looked at my exposed insides. I’d never felt more alone, more sick to my stomach, in my entire life. I still have Rosie. I couldn’t bring myself to take her to a shelter, and I don’t want to put her on anyone else. She still snuggles with me and she still hides under my bed, like nothing happened. Like she didn’t find her seemingly dead owner and immediately became opportunistic about her next meal. I…What would have happened if I didn’t wake up sooner? I don’t know. I don’t know how to love her anymore. I keep her locked out of my room at night now. Just in case.”

“Thanks for calling in, Lillith.”

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