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Miss Beatrice had brought home a new man.
Princess Donut the Queen Anne Chonk regarded him from the top of her scratching post. He was big, smelly and he stomped around so loudly that Princess Donut felt the need to hiss and run under Miss Beatrice’s bed. Where she would be safe.
What a disturbing person. She really hoped Miss Beatrice would get rid of that man as soon as possible. She must have noticed that Princess Donut did not like him. At all.
“Was that the cat?” the man asked, and soon after he folded onto the floor and peeked under the bed. Princess Donut hissed at him again, and he blinked stupidly at her.
“Princess Donut”, Miss Beatrice said. “Sometimes I call her just Princess.”
The man snorted. “How about ‘Donut’?”
Princess Donut felt her fur prickle. Was he an idiot? She swore these manservants got dumber each time.
“No”, Miss Beatrice said, and Princess Donut was glad to hear the disapproval in her voice. “I never call her that.”
“Oh”, the man said, still staring at Princess Donut. “Well. She’s… cute.”
He stood up. Princess Donut watched him stomping around her and Miss Beatrice’s beautiful apartment. “Nice place”, he said after a moment, and Miss Beatrice followed him into the living room.
Princess Donut knew Miss Beatrice had hired him to keep her company, but she didn’t really like that. Any time Miss Beatrice had someone over, she stopped paying attention to her and instead was all over the man of the day. She really liked licking men’s faces and rolling around with them on the bed. Princess Donut thought it was quite crass and not at all ladylike. But, she thought, she could tolerate it as long as Miss Beatrice was happy.
Next time that same man came over, Princess Donut was prepared. She hunched into a small ball on her bed on the windowsill and stared at the man daringly.
He waved a hand at her from the doorway. “Hi, Donut.”
Princess Donut narrowed her eyes at him.
“Come on, Carl”, Miss Beatrice said, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. The man nearly stumbled on Princess Donut’s precious Mouse toy that lay on the floor. They both giggled drunkenly. Princess Donut sighed. Another of these kinds of manservants. Princess Donut watched them go, judging harshly.
Carl. She rolled that name around in her mind. Carl.
It was a good enough name, she supposed.
Carl ended up sticking around for a long time. At first, he only visited a couple of times a week, but later he started staying over for multiple days in a row. Princess Donut found him decently easy to live with. He was still kinda smelly, but over time she got used to it and even started liking sleeping on the pillows he often used.
The only thing Princess Donut hated, really, was the groaning sounds he made when he was in the bedroom with Miss Beatrice. One time, he got so loud Princess Donut had to go tell him to stop.
“Ow!” he cried, slapping his hand against his butt where he’d been slashed. He rolled away from Miss Beatrice and stood up angrily. “Ow, fuck, your goddamn cat just attacked me!”
“She didn’t mean it”, Miss Beatrice said. She waved at her to back off. “Princess, hush.”
“The fuck? Of course she meant it! Fuck, I’m bleeding…”
Miss Beatrice sat up and sighed. Her pretty hair was all over the place. Princess Donut sat on the bed and licked her paw. She wasn’t sorry at all. Carl should know by now that she didn’t like groaning.
“Princess, you can’t do that”, Miss Beatrice said. She sounded disappointed. “You ruined our fun.”
Carl was already hobbling towards the bathroom, hand still pressed against his buttock. Miss Beatrice pulled on a loose shirt and petted Princess Donut on the head. She pushed her head against her hand. Princess Donut was sure she understood that she was only looking out for her.
Actually, scratch that.
Next time those two went into the bedroom together, they had the gall to close the door in front of Princess Donut’s face. Unbelievable. She sat behind the door and yelled at them, but soon music started playing and her voice drowned under it. That was unforgivable. Absolutely terrible. And it was all Carl’s fault.
Next time, Princess Donut made sure to ignore the man completely. She would show him he wasn’t wanted here. Miss Beatrice should find someone quieter. Or even better, she should realize the only company she needed in her life was Princess Donut, just as Miss Beatrice was the only company Princess Donut would ever need in hers.
Carl also ignored Princess Donut that day, which pissed her off.
Carl sat at the dinner table, his head leaned against his hand as Miss Beatrice cooked dinner for them. Donut observed them from the cat tree, though she was sure to turn her face away any time she sensed the man was about to look up. He yawned every so often, his eyelids drooping. His sleepiness was infectious, and Princess Donut yawned too. Not that she’d been watching.
“Can I… Can I help with anything?” Carl asked Miss Beatrice as she threw something on the pan that started sizzling loudly.
Miss Beatrice turned to smile at him. “No, you just sit there. Babe, you look exhausted.”
Carl blinked rapidly, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, long day.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “And night…”, he muttered.
Miss Beatrice tsked. “You didn’t sleep? Again?”
Carl shrugged. “I slept a little bit.”
Princess Donut had wondered about that. Carl never slept for many hours in a row, unlike Miss Beatrice who had told Princess Donut very sternly that she needed at least nine hours of uninterrupted sleep each night. Princess Donut hated the fact that she slept so much. She felt very alone during those hours, napping and waking up in her short sleep cycles with no one to play with in the in-between time.
When Carl was home, things were different. The man woke up many times a night, going out for a cigarette or wandering into the living room to sit on the couch and stare into the middle distance. Princess Donut hadn’t yet asked him to entertain her during those moments – but maybe, if she ended up forgiving him, she just might start.
Indeed, that same night, Princess Donut was curled up in her cat tree all alone, the bedroom door closed and the apartment silent when the door suddenly opened, and Carl stepped out. Very quietly and carefully, he closed the door behind him and then slid to the floor next to it, his back to the wall.
Princess Donut watched him curiously. His eyes were very wide at the edges, kinda wild, and his hands shook when he pushed them through his hair. “Fuck”, he whispered, so softly even Princess Donut had to strain to hear it. “Fuck that. Fuck that.”
She was on the ground before she realized what she was doing. Gentle paws pressed into the plush carpet as she trotted towards the man. Carl noticed her only just as she was nearly next to him. He coughed, wiping quickly at his eyes. “Hi, Donut”, he said roughly.
She mewled at him. Hello, Carl.
He radiated heat, Princess Donut noticed. She stepped even closer. Carl watched her warily. Princess Donut hadn’t gotten this close to him besides the bedroom incident the week before. And Miss Beatrice had warned him that she tended to scratch things she didn’t want getting close to her. It was quite understandable for him to be cautious, she supposed.
Carl extended his arm towards Princess Donut, and she stepped right up to it, sniffing him and then pressing against the offered hand. He was warm, smelling strongly of sweat, the ocean and Miss Beatrice’s perfume, and… he scratched Princess Donut behind the ear just the way she liked it.
Oh.
She felt her back curl. A shiver ran through her body, from her ears to the tip of her tail, and she pushed against Carl’s hip, her legs going boneless. Carl took a surprised breath as his lap was suddenly full of cat. He quickly took it in stride and brushed his hand along Princess Donut’s back. She purred loudly. His hands were much bigger and rougher than Miss Beatrice’s, but they were good. They scratched her just right.
“Well, aren’t you suddenly friendly”, Carl murmured. There was a faint smile in his voice. “What’s up with you, Donut?”
Princess Donut rolled around a curled onto her side on top of his thighs. Here. Here was good.
“Hey”, Carl chuckled. Then he winced, eyes going narrow as if in pain. “Uh. Sorry, you’re very cute, but I really need a cigarette.”
He attempted to push Princess Donut off his lap, but she refused. She dug her nails into the fabric of his boxers, poofed out her tail and glared up at him.
Carl stared at her. “…Really?”
Princess Donut held his gaze stubbornly.
Carl sighed. The back of his head thumped against the wall, and he closed his eyes. “Fine. Five minutes.”
Four minutes later, his hand went lax on Princess Donut’s back, his mouth slipped open and he started to snore. One hour later, when Princess Donut got up to use the litter box, Carl startled awake and looked around like he wasn’t sure where he was. He relaxed and smiled when he saw her, and she blinked slowly at him in return. She raised her tail straight up to the air as she walked away.
Fine, she decided. They could keep him.
As time passed, Princess Donut understood more and more why Miss Beatrice liked to keep Carl around.
He was calm and gentle. From that night on, any time Carl woke up during the night, he would come to the living room and give Princess Donut a scratch behind her ears before going out. When he came back, Princess Donut would wait for him behind the front door and expect him to play with her. Carl would say pspspspsps, and Princess Donut would jump on his shoulder, and he would chuckle and give her a tasty treat.
Miss Beatrice thought it was a bad idea to give Princess Donut too many treats. So, they never did that trick in front of Miss Beatrice. It was their own secret.
Princess Donut liked Carl’s shoulders, anyway. And his lap. Carl didn’t always want her to sit on his lap, but she knew how to be insistent. It was much better than Miss Beatrice’s lap. Hers was too small and not as warm. Once Carl was properly trained, he’d be the best cat bed there was.
Miss Beatrice, Princess Donut and Carl moved together during the beginning of summer.
Princess Donut liked the new apartment. Miss Beatrice set up a whole room for her achievements and medals, and she got an even bigger cat tree that Carl put together during their first night in the apartment. Miss Beatrice’s mom and dad came to help with the move and still, it took almost the whole day. Miss Beatrice and Princess Donut had a lot of things to carry, to be fair.
Carl didn’t have anyone come over to help. He only brought a couple of backpacks worth of stuff. The rest would be sold with his old apartment, he explained.
Miss Beatrice’s mom looked Carl up and down many times when he wasn’t watching. Princess Donut thought she looked like she was still uncertain if she wanted him to live with her daughter. Princess Donut made sure to brush against Carl’s legs multiple times so Miss Beatrice’s mom would know that Carl had already been accepted as part of the family and that it was, in fact, too late to change that anymore.
Carl woke up early one morning, a few days after the move, and sneaked carefully out of the bedroom. Princess Donut rushed to greet him, tail up ramrod straight.
“Morning, Donut”, he said cheerily. “Sleep well?”
Princess Donut observed him as he started taking things out of the cupboards and refrigerator and setting them on the countertop. Carl didn’t often do stuff in the kitchen, so it was very interesting to see where this was going.
Carl had his phone out on the countertop, and he was staring at it intently as he poured something into a cup. Was that milk? Princess Donut licked her lips. Miss Beatrice gave her milk once. It was tasty.
Carl hummed as he turned back to the refrigerator, looking for something. Princess Donut took a few steps and hopped onto the countertop, silent as a ghost. She sniffed. It was milk. She took a step towards it.
To be fair, the countertop was small.
Focused on the cup of milk, Princess Donut accidentally nudged the other bowl on the countertop full of some odd powder, and the bowl tipped over and rolled unevenly across the countertop. It hit an egg, and they both rolled off the edge. Terrified, Donut hopped forward and crashed into the cup of milk, tipping it over and onto the floor as well.
The ensuing crash scared the shit out of her. She shot forward, burned her paw on the hot circle on the countertop and cried out loud. Carl was standing a few feet away, a syrup container clutched in his hands and a bewildered look on his face. Princess Donut landed on the disgusting mess on the floor and rolled in it when it slipped and slid under her paws as she tried her hardest to get away.
It was just awful.
“Goddamnit, Donut”, Carl cursed, lunging after her.
How dare he. This was all his fault!
Princess Donut ran, as fast as she could, back to the safety of her new cat tree. Her fur was matted with disgusting stuff. Carl ran into the living room and tried to approach her, but she growled at him. She never growled. Carl really messed up this time.
Ugh. The substance on her fur was thick and sticky. She tried to lick it off, but she could already tell it would take a long time. This was just terrible. Miss Beatrice would be appalled.
“Fuck me”, Carl was muttering, looking around the mess in the kitchen and living room floors. “Goddamnit, what do I…” He looked back up at Princess Donut. “Oh, shit. You too.”
Princess Donut glared at him.
“Okay, okay, just stay there”, Carl told her, taking a deep breath. He seemed to be panicking a bit. “I’ll be back for you in a minute. Fuck, she’s gonna be pissed.”
He hurried back to the kitchen, and Princess Donut was left alone. She continued licking her paws. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
Eventually, Carl came back. He was smiling nervously. “Alright, Donut. Come here.”
Princess Donut was not certain she wanted to be handled by him. She was very mad at Carl right now.
Carl extended his arms and grabbed her around the midsection. Princess Donut squirmed unhappily. Carl kept talking to her quietly. “It’s alright. It’s all good, Donut.”
He took her to the bathroom and closed the door. The air was hot and steamy. Princess Donut felt her heartbeat quicken.
No. No no no no no.
“Okay, just a little…” Carl placed her into the tub. Water hit the bottom of her paws. Princess Donut screamed. The betrayal! He was about to torture her! Why? What did she do to deserve this?
“…bath.”
Princess Donut twisted. Claws out, teeth out, she yelled help from the top of her lungs. Miss Beatrice would help her. This was betrayal of the utmost level! She tore into the arm holding her in the water. Carl also screamed. She tore until she tasted blood.
That’s right, Princess Donut thought hysterically. Now you know.
Finally, Carl let her go and she leaped away from the death trap, landing on his shoulder. Desperately, Carl reached over to stop her, so she swiped at him, hitting his hand and ear with her claws.
Carl stumbled to the floor. Princess Donut ran to the closed door and started yelling for Miss Beatrice.
Help! Help! I’m getting murdered!
“Ow, fuck”, Carl muttered. “Ah, shit. Oh, fuck.”
Princess Donut turned to look at him. He was curled against the bathtub, holding his arm that was bleeding extensively, painting the pristine white tiles and the nice, fluffy white carpet all red. Blood dribbled from his ear. His face was twisted with pain.
“What the hell is going on?” Miss Beatrice’s voice suddenly called, and Princess Donut started yelling anew.
I’m in here! Help! I’m in here!
The door opened.
“Carl, what the fuck-“ She stopped dead at the doorway. Princess Donut darted between her legs, eager to get away from the horrible scene. “Holy shit. Did you… What the hell happened? Babe. Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“Donut”, Carl grunted through gritted teeth.
“She did that?”
Princess Donut crouched into the hallway corner, observing the two. She was still shaking, her paws wet and bloody and fur still sticky with milk and egg and powder. Carl was struggling to get up from the floor, dripping droplets of blood everywhere.
“Goddamnit”, he muttered. “You need to trim that cat’s claws.”
Miss Beatrice was rushing around, her face pale, looking like she was about to be sick. “Fuck, we just threw away all the old towels. Um, okay, um…” She rummaged through a closet, pulling out a pink towel. “Okay, wrap this around your arm. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”
Carl had gone very silent. He was standing up on his own, but he was staring at the mess of blood on the white tile like he wasn’t certain what he was looking at.
“I’ll drive you to the ER, okay?” Miss Beatrice babbled. “Fuck, that carpet was brand new. Hey, do you feel faint at all? Carl? Are you doing okay?”
Carl just looked at her and nodded slowly. “ER?”
“Yeah. Just… hold that towel tight.” She looked like she was about to vibrate out of her skin. “Um. Pants. You need pants.” She looked down at herself. “I need pants.”
She ran out of the room. Carl sat down on the edge of the tub, grimacing as he wrapped the towel tighter around his hand and forearm. Princess Donut sneaked back into the bathroom.
Now that the emotions had settled, maybe she felt a little bit bad about it. Just a little bit.
“Sorry, Donut”, Carl said to her. “I got the message. I won’t try to give you a bath ever again.”
Princess Donut let out a little sound, letting him know he was forgiven. For now. She settled against the far wall, a safe distance away from the blood stains. Carl was still new. It was understandable. He still had a lot to learn.
Miss Beatrice came back with a bundle of clothes.
“Okay, come here. I got sweats and socks for you.”
She had put on shorts and a nicer top. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in her hand. Carl shuffled across the room. The towel around his hand and arm hid most of the damage, but there were streaks of blood down his neck and the ratty old MacGyver T-shirt shirt he used for sleeping was stained with red splotches.
Miss Beatrice helped him step into the pants and put on socks and shoes. Carl winced every time his arm brushed against something. His face was very, very pale. “I’m sorry”, he said, indicating vaguely at the room. “About the, you know. Mess. And Donut.”
“We’ll talk about it later”, Miss Beatrice said shortly. “Let’s go.”
Before they stepped out of the front door, Miss Beatrice turned around and gave Princess Donut a pat on the head. “Don’t worry Princess, I’ll call my mom on the way. She’ll come over and give you food and a brushing.”
Princess Donut pushed gratefully against her palm. Miss Beatrice was always looking out for her.
Oh, how she loved her so.
Carl had to take antibiotics for a week afterwards. He grumbled about it and said they made his stomach all messed up. Miss Beatrice was also mad at him. First, she made him order a new bathroom carpet for them, and then she told him he needed to sleep on the couch until he was sure the scratches and punctures on his arm wouldn’t leak blood onto the bedsheets.
Carl didn’t sleep that first night anyway. Once Miss Beatrice was asleep, he put on headphones, turned on the TV and put on the watch-Carl-get-fragged-over-and-over PlayStation channel. Princess Donut curled up on his lap and stayed there until morning.
They settled into a nice routine after that. Carl and Miss Beatrice built their lives around each other and seemed to have a good time together. Mostly. Carl stopped trying to do stuff in the kitchen unless Miss Beatrice explicitly asked him to help, and he “slept” on the couch with Princess Donut any time Miss Beatrice got mad him for some reason or other.
Carl didn’t get mad very often. Usually, Miss Beatrice would yell at him, and he would stay silent and then go outside for a cigarette. When he came back, he would apologize, and they would go into the bedroom to grunt and groan passionately.
Princess Donut didn’t always understand the reasons for the arguments, but she was pretty sure they weren’t Carl’s fault every time.
When Carl did get mad, he would raise his voice at her maybe once, and then stop himself. He usually left the apartment soon after. Most of the time, he didn’t come back until morning. Once, Princess Donut heard him whisper to himself on the way out, ‘I’m not him. I’m not fucking like him.’
Princess Donut didn’t know who “him” was, and Carl never told her.
Sometimes Carl would have friends over. He had two best friends, Monobrow Sam and Billy Maloney. They both smelled terrible. Maloney smelled kinda like rotten Spaghetti-O’s mixed with a rancid egg, and Monobrow Sam like he’d run a marathon a week ago and not taken a shower since.
Still, Princess Donut liked to hang around when Carl was spending time with them. They brought out a completely new side of Carl. With them, he did get loud, and he would yell and argue and laugh a lot. They usually sat on the couch and played something nonsensical on the TV. Sometimes Princess Donut would get a little concerned though.
“Ohh, get fucked in the ass!” Monobrow Sam cried one evening, throwing the controlled down and leaping up in victory. “You’re my bitch now!”
Carl cursed, frustrated, slamming his hand against the couch. “Goddamnit! What the fuck was that?”
“Three fucking times in a row”, Sam howled. “I won the bet!”
“You’re a cheating asshole and you fucking know it”, Carl told him angrily. Princess Donut looked around worriedly. Were they about to break into a fight? Miss Beatrice wasn’t home. What should she do?
Sam kept whooping and dancing on the spot. “My bitch, my bitch… Hey, let’s go for double or nothing!”
He grinned at Carl. He looked mean. Princess Donut felt herself poof up in anticipation.
“Double or nothing?” Carl asked incredulously. “The bet was for 100 dollars. You really wanna risk losing that?”
Monobrow Sam nodded arrogantly. “Or are you too much of a wuss to take it?”
Carl’s eyes darkened. He also grinned.
“Oh, you were being serious?” he asked, just as meanly as Sam. “Thought you were talking out of your ass like you usually are. Sure. Let’s go for double or nothing. Just don’t cry like a bitch when you get nothing.”
Sam pumped his fist into the air. “Fuck yeah! Here I come, two fucking hundo!”
In the end, he lost the next round and got nothing. Carl made fun of him for the rest of the night.
Princess Donut sighed in relief. Crisis averted. Sometimes, she did wonder if Sam and Carl had spent time in prison together. They seemed… a little unstable in her opinion.
Still, she did kinda like Carl’s friends, despite the smelliness and the constant threat of violence. They made Carl smile a lot, and Carl had a really nice smile.
About a year after they moved into this apartment, when the chilliness of spring started to warm into a summer glow once more, Princess Donut got a boyfriend. Ferdinand.
He appeared on the tree behind the bedroom window one day, his orange fur thick and glossy and poofed out with excitement.
He stared at Princess Donut and let out a low purring growl. Princess Donut could barely contain herself. Oh, boy, she thought. This could turn out to be a problem. That cat was clearly a “Moggie”, a non-pedigree cat. But he’s so hot. Oh, boy.
Princess Donut mewled at him, squeezing her face against the cracked-open window. Just a few feet away, the other cat called for her confidently.
“Oh, fuck!” Miss Beatrice suddenly said behind her. “Princess, get away from the window! Carl, come here.”
Princess Donut backed away as Miss Beatrice stepped in front of her. Carl also appeared, looking between Miss Beatrice, Princess Donut and the orange ruffian outside.
Miss Beatrice slammed the window shut, shooing Princess Donut away from it. “Off! Off you go! Babe, I’ve told you a million times not to leave the windows open! What if she’d gotten out and gotten molested by that ugly street cat?”
Carl kept staring at the cat outside on the tree. “I don’t think it’s a street cat. It has a collar on.”
“Whatever”, Miss Beatrice snapped. She turned towards Princess Donut. “Princess, you stay away from that cat, you hear me? If you got pregnant to something like that, it would ruin you.”
Princess Donut felt her tail droop. Ruin me?
“Uh”, Carl said. “Let’s just make sure we close the windows from now on.”
Miss Beatrice cracked the window open suddenly, startling the handsome Moggie. “Go away, Ferdinand!” she yelled, and the cat howled and scrambled down the tree. “Fuck right off or I’m calling animal control!”
Ferdinand? thought Princess Donut.
“Ferdinand?” asked Carl. “Where’d you get that?”
Miss Beatrice shrugged. “He looked like a Ferdinand.”
And she shut the window tightly once more.
That was how the tragic love story between Princess Donut and Ferdinand began. A princess and a ruffian. They could never be, but they could dream. They could wish, endlessly, that things were different.
Miss Beatrice and Carl made sure to keep the windows always closed, but when the weather started to get hotter, they oftentimes kept the small ventilation windows open during the night to let the cooler air in. And Princess Donut could sense Ferdinand out there, roaming the streets, looking for a mate.
It was frustrating. Princess Donut would often sit next to the windows and call for him, and Ferdinand would appear behind it, and they would stare longingly at each other. Sometimes Ferdinand would get brave, jump onto the windowsill and try to open the window himself. Princess Donut would pace on the other side of the glass, quivering with anticipation.
They never got to experience each other’s touch. If Miss Beatrice noticed him outside the window, she would scream at him until he ran away. Sometimes Princess Donut would hiss and spit at him as well. He would come to her window, smelling like other girls. More often than not, Princess Donut could tell he had been visiting others as well. Still, even when her heart got broken over and over again, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Her star-crossed lover. Ferdinand.
Miss Beatrice started to get more boyfriends as well. Sometimes, when Carl took his smelly bag and left for a few hours, another man would come to their apartment and have disgusting loud sex with Miss Beatrice. Princess Donut thought everything about it was a bit odd, since Miss Beatrice never seemed very happy after they left. She would stare at her naked body in the mirror and trace the lines of her stomach with her finger and often, she would cry.
Princess Donut always went to her when she cried. Miss Beatrice would hug her, pick her up and dance around the room, holding her close. When Carl came home, Miss Beatrice would be back to her normal self. She would still smell like the other men, but Carl never noticed. Sometimes, Princess Donut thought Carl was just a little bit dumb in that regard.
Speaking of crying, Miss Beatrice cried a lot, and often. She cried in the shower, she cried while watching TV and she cried after speaking to her parents on the phone. She cried when she got frustrated at Carl – when she tried to start a fight with him, but he refused to rise to the bait.
Carl was the opposite. He only cried a couple of times a year, around April. He always had the worst nightmares around April each year. It always reminded Princess Donut of the first night she’d sat with Carl on the living room floor in Miss Beatrice’s old apartment. He got all quiet and sad, even more so than usual.
Once, Princess Donut spent the entire night watching cartoons with Carl, and only when the sun started to rise, Carl whispered, to her and to no one at all, “You know, today is the day my mom left me.”
A couple of hours later, Miss Beatrice woke up and wished him happy birthday.
Even if their life together wasn’t always perfect, at least Princess Donut kept being very successful in her career. She almost always won the contests she took part in, and there were a lot of contests. She didn’t always enjoy the competitions themselves, since they included a lot of sitting around in her small cage and annoying judges poking and prodding at her, but she did like winning. She liked that a lot.
She would often visit the trophy room in their home. The room was full of ribbons and trophies and pictures of Princess Donut looking all beautiful and pristine. Usually, the big closet in the room would be shut tightly, but one time the door was cracked open, and Princess Donut went to take a look. Certainly, it would be okay. This was her room, after all.
The closet was filled with boxes on top of boxes. One of them was opened. Curious, Princess Donut hopped in and inspected the pile of clothes inside. They smelled plasticky and brand new.
A box? Just for her?
Princess Donut twirled around a couple of times, feeling the nice squishiness under her paws, and peed in it.
What happened after that was the first and only time Princess Donut had felt a little bit scared of Miss Beatrice.
She hung out in her room that morning, enjoying the fancy cat bed Miss Beatrice’s mom had gotten her for her fourth birthday, when Miss Beatrice walked in. She instantly looked at the closet and inhaled sharply.
“Oh shit, I left the door open”, she muttered, and then to Princess Donut, “You didn’t go inside, did you, Princess? I can’t have you getting your fur all over my…”
She paused. She was standing over the box, frozen. Her hand reached in, touching the still-moist cloth inside.
Princess Donut watched her with anticipation, starting to feel a bit like she might’ve done something wrong.
“Princess”, Miss Beatrice said, her voice odd all of a sudden. “Did you pee all over the leggings I was going to sell?”
Oh, Princess Donut thought. Not a fancy toilet, then.
She feigned innocence, licking her paw, looking around. Miss Beatrice approached her. “You asshole!” she suddenly yelled. “Why would you do that?”
Princess Donut, alarmed and offended, jumped up and backed away.
“You little shit!” Miss Beatrice continued. She looked like she wanted to throttle her. “Fuck you, I paid a lot of money for those!”
Princess Donut shot out of the room just as Carl appeared by the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Bea? What’s going on?”
She dodged through his legs, feeling much safer having him between her and the raging Miss Beatrice.
“That fucking cat”, Miss Beatrice snarled. “She ruined my-“
She stopped, looking at Carl. Carl just stared back at her, confused.
“She peed on some of my stuff”, Miss Beatrice ended up saying, her rage just barely contained.
“What stuff?” Carl asked, looking around the room.
“Just”, Miss Beatrice said. “Some of my clothes.”
“But… You don’t have clothes here, do you?” Carl asked, stepping inside the room. Behind her back, Miss Beatrice slammed the closet door shut. Carl noticed.
“What’s in there?”
“Nothing”, Miss Beatrice snapped. And then, “You wouldn’t understand.”
Carl kept walking towards her. “Understand what?” He pushed past Miss Beatrice, unaffected by her volatile mood, and pulled the closet door back open. He stared at the boxes, all with similar labels, the open one showing the pile of leggings inside. “What are all of these for?” he asked, voice neutral.
Her rage finally boiled over. “Come on, say it!” she told him furiously. “Tell me I’m an idiot. I know you want to. You’re always judging me anyway! I’m a stupid fucking bitch, am I?”
“What?” Carl said, bewildered.
“I know what you’re thinking”, Miss Beatrice said, tears forming in her eyes. “That I wasted my money. That I could never be successful like that.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, forget it!” Miss Beatrice snapped. She’d started crying. She turned her back and rushed past Carl and into the kitchen. She started furiously rummaging the cupboards, looking for something. Carl followed her, frowning slightly. Alarmed, Princess Donut trotted after him.
“Were you going to sell those leggings or something?” he asked the upset woman. “Where? How?”
“What do you care?” Miss Beatrice snapped. She had taken out a wine glass, but no bottle. She slammed her palm against the countertop, whirling around. “Where the fuck is the wine?”
Carl stopped approaching, raising his arms placatingly. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Instagram”, Miss Beatrice bit out. “I’m selling them on Instagram. I got contacted by an entrepreneur and she helped me get started. It’s not taken off yet, but it will soon. It’s gonna start making me money and I’ll be able to build my own business.”
“But…”, Carl began. He hesitated for a second. “You… you know those things are always a scam?“
Crash.
Miss Beatrice had slammed the glass down hard, smashing it against the tiled floor. Carl flinched back. Neither of them was wearing socks or shoes.
“I knew it”, she said, tears rolling anew. “You don’t think I can do it.”
“No, what I mean is, the people that contact others and offer deals like that are almost never being honest. They always talk big how easy it is to build your own business and make loads of money like that, but it basically never works out”, Carl said, eyeing the shards of the floor. “Essentially, they are pyramid schemes.”
Smash.
Miss Beatrice had picked up a plate off the countertop and thrown it across the kitchen. That’s when Princess Donut decided she’d had enough. She backed away from the doorway and retreated to a safer distance, but still close enough to hear the argument.
“Fuck you, Carl”, Miss Beatrice cried. “You don’t know anything! I have a consultant for it and everything. I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on this already. It’s gonna work out!”
“Bea…” Carl said. “It’s better to stop now, before that amount is thousands – Whoa!”
Crash.
“The next one wont miss”, Miss Beatrice threatened.
Princess Donut felt herself prickle all over. Her fur poofed out, and she dashed back to the kitchen doorway before she could stop herself.
There was broken glass all around Carl’s bare feet, and he was shuffling around carefully, wincing as his feet left little bloody prints on the tiles. Miss Beatrice stood on the other side of the room, frozen, her chest heaving with deep breaths. She was holding another glass in her hand.
Princess Donut couldn’t believe it. She had thrown a glass at Carl?
Neither said anything for a long moment. Carl made a face, taking a large step towards Princess Donut – towards a patch of floor with less broken shards all over. Miss Beatrice stared at the bloodstains he left behind.
“I’m…” she said eventually, carefully putting the still intact glass down on the countertop. Her voice shook. “Carl, babe, I- I’m sorry.”
Carl leaned against the doorframe and wiped his soles. The little shards he’d stepped on clinked against the tiles as he brushed them off.
“I didn’t actually wanna hit you”, Miss Beatrice continued weakly. “I just… got emotional. I’ll think about the leggings, okay? Maybe you’re right. Maybe the deal is too good to be true.”
“Okay”, Carl said. He just sounded tired. He walked past Princess Donut, and she pushed against his legs, mewling worriedly. “I’m going out.”
He left without looking back. Miss Beatrice leaned against the countertop, silent tears rolling down her face. “Fuck”, she whispered. She squeezed her arms around herself so tightly that her skin turned white under her fingertips. “Fuck, what’s wrong with me?”
Princess Donut wanted to go to her, but she was terrified of the sharp pieces littering the floor. So she just sat there, looking at her, feeling an odd sense of disconnect.
“Do you think he hates me?” Miss Beatrice asked quietly. She often spoke to Princess Donut when she felt sad or overwhelmed. “What if he leaves me? He wouldn’t, right? He’s got no one. I’ve got no one. We have to stay together.”
I’m here, Princess Donut wanted to say. You’ve got me.
Miss Beatrice wiped her face messily. She was also surrounded by shards, and she started carefully shuffling towards the cleaning cupboard.
“He wouldn’t leave me”, she muttered to herself. “I could get anyone I want. I could go with Brad. But Carl?”
She took out a broom and a dustpan and started cleaning the floor, all the while mumbling to herself. “He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. Maybe if he knew about Asher, but…” She paused suddenly, took out her phone and checked something. “No. That won’t happen. I just need to show him I’m worth it. Because I am.”
Princess Donut had heard about Asher before. He was a cute young boy – Miss Beatrice had his picture on her phone. However, who he was to Miss Beatrice was still a bit unclear to Princess Donut. She talked about him a lot to her mother, but never to Carl. For some reason, she thought if Carl got to know about him, he would leave her or do something else stupid.
“Damn it”, Miss Beatrice sighed after she was done cleaning. Carl still hadn’t come back. “I screwed up big this time. I gotta make it up to him somehow.” She walked up to Princess Donut, picked her up and cradled her in the crook of her arm. “What do you think, Princess? Pink or black lingerie?”
Things got a little… tense, after that day. Miss Beatrice got extra clingy and sweet, while Carl drew more into himself. Summer was over and not even Ferdinand came to Princess Donut’s window to distract her anymore.
When Carl then didn’t respond to her clinginess enough, Miss Beatrice started to find love elsewhere. She got really friendly with their new neighbor – a short, round woman who had a nasty little cocker spaniel, Angel. It majorly pissed off Princess Donut. Like really. Miss Beatrice could have chosen anyone, but she had to choose the one with the cocker spaniel?
That woman and her bitch of a dog started to also visit Miss Beatrice when Carl was away. Princess Donut hated that. Once, Angel had gotten free and broken one of her favorite jingly balls. It was just unforgivable.
Princess Donut was starting to think maybe it wasn’t normal for someone to have so many lovers while they were living with another man. Sure, Carl watched those videos that featured other women sometimes, but he never brought anyone over other than Monobrow Sam and Billy Maloney. And those three weren’t having sex together, that was for sure.
She was getting worried. Maybe Miss Beatrice wasn’t as loyal to her close ones as she’d thought. Was she seeing other cats as well? When she went to her parents’ house, was she looking at the other kittens and loving them more than she did Princess Donut?
Miss Beatrice liked to look at vacation locations. Princess Donut would often sit on her lap while she clicked around on her computer, zooming around the big round map. Princess Donut didn’t really understand what all the spots and lines and names meant on the screen, but it was fun to look at and hear Miss Beatrice get excited talking about endless white beaches and sipping dirty Shirleys in a jacuzzi.
Carl wasn’t really into that sort of traveling, so he offered to stay home during the new years so Miss Beatrice and her friends could travel to the Bahamas and spend a fun holiday over there. Princess Donut was thankful Carl would be staying with her. The other option was Miss Beatrice’s parents, and she hated spending time there. With just Carl around, she would be safe from all those creepy cats Miss Beatrice’s mom had, and their apartment would be free of smelly strangers and Angel the cocker spaniel.
Princess Donut really liked to spend time with just Carl, actually.
At least Carl didn’t go around on Thanksgiving, talking about how he wanted to sell Princess Donut and get a younger model to replace her. It certainly wasn’t Carl she had overheard saying that.
The following Christmas time was one of the best Princess Donut had ever had. Miss Beatrice was visiting her parents before the Bahamas trip, so it was just them. Her and Carl. No annoying family members, no arguments, no drama about million stupid little things.
They played lots of video games, and Carl ordered food that smelled funny, and he gave her loads of treats and pats. He chased Princess Donut around the apartment when she stole a shiny ball from the little Christmas tree. During the nights, Princess Donut curled around his neck, her paws warm and protected against the cold air. It was nice.
But then.
“Care to explain that picture you posted last night? How long has that been going on?”
Princess Donut was startled awake by Carl’s raised voice. He was hunched on the couch, phone to his ear and a strange, tight look on his face.
“He’s your ex for god’s sake. You really think I’m gonna buy that?”
Princess Donut hadn’t seen Carl like this before. His voice was so cold.
“Oh, you forgot to tell me. Right.”
He sat there for a long while. Princess Donut could hear Miss Beatrice’s tinny voice coming from the other end of the line, speaking rapidly.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Carl asked, interrupting her. “I’m not the one cheating.”
More rapid speaking.
“You know what?” Carl said. “Just… stop. I think we’re done. I'm done. I’ll get your stuff ready and packed for you when you get back. No need to hurry – you have almost a week of the trip left, right?”
Miss Beatrice’s voice increased in tone.
Carl sighed, rubbing a weary hand down his face. “No. And Donut’s gonna be fine. Obviously I won’t just abandon her.”
Princess Donut jumped down from her tree and hopped onto the couch, pressing against Carl’s side. He put his hand on her back reflexively. Miss Beatrice asked something.
“Sure, ask your parents to pick her up, but the weather’s been shit. The passes are probably closed. I’m not sure they’ll be able to get here right now.”
There was more chatter from the other end, and Carl closed his eyes for a moment.
“Yes, I’m sure. There’s clearly something going on, Bea. You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me. And you’re not even a little bit sorry.”
Yelling. Maybe also crying.
“Happy fucking new year, Beatrice”, Carl said, and dropped the phone. He put his hands over his eyes, pressing hard. “Goddamnit”, he whispered. Princess Donut hopped onto his lap, and they sat together, in silence, for a long time.
Carl was up all night on Craigslist, looking for apartments. It was clear he wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. Princess Donut settled on top of him, and he didn’t try to push her away even once. He had multiple filters on.
Single bedroom. Furnished. Cats ok.
Princess Donut wondered about the last one. Was Carl looking to get another cat? That didn’t make sense. Carl didn’t like any cats expect Princess Donut. He’d said that multiple times.
Oh.
He was going to move out and take Princess Donut with him! He was going to catnap her!
She… wasn’t as upset about the idea as she’d had expected. Oh, but Miss Beatrice was going to be pissed. Her father was a very powerful man. Princess Donut had doubts Carl’s plan would work.
Still, she appreciated the thought. They had both been betrayed by Miss Beatrice. They could make it work, just the two of them. Carl and Donut. Donut and Carl. It would be hard, but they would persevere. They always did.
That night. That night when everything changed, Donut couldn’t sleep. Carl was tossing and turning so much she couldn’t even curl next to him in fear of getting crushed under his weight. He had slept terribly ever since the phone call with Miss Beatrice.
But there was something else going on too. Ferdinand was outside, despite the horrible, cold weather. He was never outside when it was this cold. Donut felt restless. There was a sort of electricity in the air. It made her skin crawl, and she wanted to go out and meet with Ferdinand, ask if he knew what was going on.
It was two AM when Carl woke up, sweaty and trembling and cursing under his breath. For a while he just sat there, staring into space, before he shuffled to the bedroom window and took out his pack of cigarettes. Donut had been feigning sleep on the bed next to his feet, so when the window then cracked open, she was ready to go.
She jumped on Carl’s shoulder and onto the windowsill, and before she could think too hard about it, onto the tree branch just outside the window. Ferdinand was often in this tree, so it must be fine. She made her way down, onto the freezing pavement. Where was Ferdinand? Donut was sure she had heard his voice.
And now, Carl was yelling so loud that there was no way she could hear the other cat anymore.
Shit, it was cold. Her paws hurt, pressing against the ground, and the chilly wind cut right through her fur. It wasn’t worth it. Ferdinand wasn’t even here. She climbed back up. Carl was leaning out of the now fully open window, pleading and cursing and demanding she’d jump back inside.
Donut started yelling back at him. How did he think she could jump back when his pantsless form was blocking the whole window? Besides, it was a long jump, and the wind was so strong up here. What if she fell? There was simply no way.
“Fuck!” Carl cursed, and suddenly he disappeared from the window. Donut kept yelling after him. Help! Carl was gone. Donut curled into a tiny ball. It was over. She was going to freeze to death here, all alone, abandoned by the world. She would be greatly missed. Mourned. Miss Beatrice would cry for sure. Maybe even Carl would cry. How tragic.
“Donut!” Carl suddenly yelled from the ground. He had his arms stretched out towards her. “Come on you little shit!”
Carl! He’d come for her!
He had only half his clothes on. Donut hesitated. It was a long jump down. She could climb, but she was so numb with cold already that it was hard to move.
Their neighbor was also awake, shouting at Carl from her window. Donut didn’t care, she just wanted back inside. She wanted to curl into the warmth against Carl’s neck and take a nice long nap. She wanted-
Slam.
The open window was gone. The whole building was gone. Donut looked down, confused. Carl was still there, also looking around in bewilderment. “What the hell”, he muttered.
Donut forced her frozen limbs to move. She dropped down, into Carl’s arms. Carl caught her without looking. His jacket was cold to the touch, but a little bit of warmth still transferred through his thin shirt.
Take us inside, Donut demanded. I’m cold.
Carl kept spinning around, muttering to himself. He squeezed Donut against his chest so hard that she squirmed. She wanted to go back inside. But… the building was gone. Where was inside?
Was her cat tree also gone? What about her ribbons and trophies? And her food?
A bunch of squiggly lines suddenly appeared in front of her. A voice, someone other than Carl, spoke to her. She knew she wasn’t the only one seeing this since Carl also got really frightened. He reacted violently, kicking at the air and trying to speak back to the voice. It didn’t help.
They waited out the announcement. Carl was trembling, his rapid breaths huffing out in small, misty clouds. His ice-cold hands held Donut tightly, too tightly. She tried to get away, onto his shoulder, but his grip was like iron. Donut held onto his jacket.
At least Carl was with her. She would be safe with Carl.
A light burst out, blindingly bright in the empty darkness. More appeared farther away. Donut perked up, sensing the warmth coming from the direction of the light.
Inside? Was that inside?
Carl had the same idea. He turned toward the light and ran.