The Tail of Hell

By Lincoln Lee

It was the first day of November, and I already felt cold. I was locked in a cave. My only food was wet moss. All of this happened because of that wretched beast with its pointed tail. I am not crazy; I will tell you how this all started.

On this fateful day, I argued with my mother about raking leaves. I hated raking leaves. Why must I rake leaves when they just appear back where they were tomorrow? Why would I waste my time moving something that would just be back there tomorrow? I told my mom this same thing, but she said, “It’s about patience, honey. Slowly raking the leaves builds patience.” I never believed her.

Street lamps lit the road as I walked home from school. The sun looked like a tinted orange circle overhead. The sky was filled with a yellowish hue. I felt a warm feeling coarse through my red sweater. This was my favorite sweater. My grandpa gave it right before he left for a sea trip. It smelled salty like the ocean.

Along the path, I wondered what my mom would bake today. She always baked good pancakes with tiny blueberries inside. I wondered when Thanksgiving was. I was always bad with time. For me, there was only yesterday and tomorrow. I wish there were something like a TV with time on it. Like with numbers instead of ticks.

As I got home, I saw something oddly peculiar. Near the porch stood a strange figure. It had sharp ears like a fox, but whiskers like a cat. There was something strange about this “cat,” though. Its tail was a sharp point. Suddenly, a breeze swept over the cat. The black fur spiked up like a hedgehog. Instantly, the cat ran off into the forest with its tail curving in the wind.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Even with a warm glass of milk, I still couldn’t sleep. The cat seemed so out of place, like a ghost. I had to find that cat, even if it killed me.

Before I left, I put a note on the table: Be back by 9:00. I had a lantern under my arm and my red comfy sweater. A warm feeling coursed through my chest as I kept moving. There I stood, the farthest away I had ever been from home. I continued.

There stood the cat. Its yellow eyes glinted like the moon. Suddenly, it sprinted off. I chased it, ducking over branches and jumping over leaf piles. Why didn’t anyone rake the leaves out here?

Nearing the end of the forest stood my final destination. Among all the trees stood a cave. Pitch darkness seeped out like ooze. There inside, I saw it. Its eyes were like yellow lightbulbs in the night.

I charged. The cat just stood completely still. It looked calm, almost peaceful. I lunged at the cat, trying to restrain it. However, the horrid beast let out a fierce scream. Oh, how terrible the beast was. My stance faltered as I covered my ears. 

My lamp went out. Darkness shrouded my view. I shoved myself against the wall until my arms gave out. Trying to pry the rock open boiled my skin. Feeling defeated, I slumped down into a pile of wet moss. 

I still sit in this cave to this day. I am unsure how much time has passed. It could be months or only a few seconds. I only live on because this place would not allow me to go. But I am not mad. Only my curiosity got the best of me.