When I saw Hamlet for the first time, I was 14 years old.
In that year, my parents would be going to get transferred to another city. So I was to spend one year with my grandparents. And after my parents settled down in the new place, they were going to bring me back to them.
I was unhappy with this decision. It's not that I didn't love my grandparents. I loved to their house to stay a couple of weeks on my summer holiday since they lived just hours away. It's that I would have to move into a new school, in which I must have to face a complete new life. Maybe got no friends at all.It didn't make sense.
So I was going on my study in the new school, which was not far from my grandparents' house, ten minutes on foot. I was a quiet girl. I didn't feel comfortable with my new school. Soon I was hitting my adolescence, which made me act a bit strange. I never talked and played with my new classmates. I wasalways working in the classroom. Although I could remain at the top of my newclass, I was still much of a loner.
I thought I didn't really need friends. All I needed to do was just to keep patient and endurable. One way or another, I was not going to stay here long. But why did I still feel somewhat lost? And I guessed that my grandparents must have told this by looking at my face. They didn't say anymore but seem much more amiable to me.
My young but gloomy life would go on this way if Hamlet hadn't come. It's just around two months since I came here. My grandma found Hamlet on her way home in the small woods, which were near our house. For some unknown reason, he kept following my grandma home.
I still remember the first sight when I saw Hamlet. I looked past my grandma to him who was looking straight back at me with his bright, green eyes. I was so shocked to see such a big cat. And for the next one minute, I got a crush on him. Hamlet was such a handsome white cat with a ginger-striped tail! We guessed that hunger might be the main reason he followed my grandma home. I brought some food to him. As we guessed, he ate them off quickly then ran towards the woods and soon turned out of our sights.
I didn't pay my attention on this until the next day. When I was crossing thewoods on my way home after school, I heard some rustlings in the bushes. Almost at the same time, a white thing jumped in front of me. I couldn't believe what I had seen! I met that cat again. In the distance, he crouched and inclined his head slightly, looking at me.
"Hey, it's you!" I murmured, trying not to move to scare him away."Ma'ao," he answered me with a soft, excited meow from his throat. It seemed that it only lasted for a little while though. He jumped back into the bushesand disappeared in front of me right away.
The next a couple of days, I met him times in the woods. He seemed able to feel my footfalls approaching to him. He could sense my presence and appeared after some rustlings in the bushes. I could tell that he was very alert. He never let me touch him. He acted as if he just liked to escort me to the edge of the woods. He ran back or forth and always kept several steps from me. I was starting to think of calling him Hamlet, because of his complex nature.
As days went on, the young girl and the cat got acquainted.
Every day, I would spend some whiles to play with Hamlet in the woods. I brought him food once in a while. I didn't know where he was from. Although he still refused me to stroke him, yet this was not a problem for us being friends.
Most of time, I just sat on the bench reading, while Hamlet was busy with an attempt to capture creatures crawling and flying around him. In a few moments I would like to tell him my dreams about the future. And most of those whiles,he could relatively focus on me, as if he understood me. Just once in a while,he needed to lower his head to feel tiny plants in the ground, brushing hischeeks and nose.
Hamlet started to be an important part of my life. To me, he was more than a friend; he was also a companion and a listener. Whenever I talked about Hamletwith my grandparents, my face would beam with delight. I was beginning to enjoy myself. And all seemed to be going well until I met a boy in the hallways in school.
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The boy was the class show-off. He is magnetic with great charm. Some would say he swaggered. It's around half a year since I moved into this school. While I was walking alone in the crowded hallways, a voice approached me from behind,
"Hey proud, said that you have a ringtail?" Paused for a while, the voice arose again,"Manners, proud girl."
I turned back and met a gaze at once. Behind the gaze somewhere, I could see a light dancing and promising mischief."His name is not ringtail but Hamlet. By the way, call me by my name next time." I left him aside straightly and heard some whispers and giggles after me.
After school that day, I hurried towards the woods. Actually I was so happy because my parents were going to give me a call in the evening. I just couldn't wait to share this good news with Hamlet. I stayed there just for a little while. Then I waved hands to him saying goodbye. I saw him running back to the woods as he had used to do. I headed home with a big smile. If I had knew, if I had knew what was going to happen later...
Actually I was so happy due to the call from my parents that evening. When my grandma came in with that show-off boy following, I was playing chess with mygrandpa. She was serious while the boy seemed nervous. I stared at the boy with a confused look. I didn't quite understand why he was here.
"You know," began the boy, taking a deep breath, "You know, I just want to scare him away." seeming to hesitate for only a moment, he continued, "I never meant to shot him dead... If...er...if he didn't leap suddenly..."
"What are you talking about?" Right at once, however, I noticed that he had ashotgun in his hands. My heart sank. I knew before I even made myself clear that was Hamlet. I lunged from the house and dashed to the woods.
"Hamlet! Oh, Hamlet!"
In the distance, I heard some rustlings in a ditch. I trembled as I ran approaching there. There lay Hamlet. He was terribly hurt. The wound near his chest was bleeding badly. He was lying so still and dying in those fallen leaves, those once green and yellow and brown but now all dark-red fallen leaves. I started to cry. I could not believe how this was happening; I could not believe that this was my good friend Hamlet. He looked so different now. Just two hours ago, he was still so active...
"Oh no! Hamlet, hear me. Oh no, no!"
I kneed down and touched Hamlet's fluffy head slightly yet unconsciously. Hisfur under my hand felt so warm and soft. This was the first also the last time I had looked at him so close. I couldn't stop weeping as I stroked him. suddenly, his nostrils flared. I started screaming for help. Then I felt someone patting on my shoulders slightly, "No use, girl. He had lost too much blood and the wound was too near his chest..." I knew that was from my grandpa. At almost the same time, I heard a surprised gasp of the air. I knew that's from the troublesome boy.
Tears rolled down my face their way uncontrollably. Hamlet now half-opened his eyes and looked straightly at me. Those same green eyes were no longer bright,yet still friendly and full of love. "Ma-ao" he greeted me softly. It was stillthe same greeting as I met him in the woods for the first time, but much weak with his last breath...
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We buried Hamlet in the woods. After that night, I didn't cry anymore. For the next a couple of weeks, I became much quieter and stranger. I would rather go another longer way home than cross the woods. And that boy also changed a lot.He no longer had his famous light-hearted smirk. He seemed quieter and more studious since that. I could often feel his gaze either in the class or in the hallways. But once our eyes met, I just turned mine quickly to somewhere.
Everything seemed all right again, except for my grandparents. They seemed tohave something discuss with me. And I knew what it would be. I didn't givethem a chance to speak out. I went back my room when I got home from school, and just came out for dinner and shower. I knew that they worried about me. Ijust didn't know how to react what if they would like to comfort me. Finally,that day was coming.
It was three weeks later after Hamlet’s death. We were having our dinner silently.
"How's school?" my grandpa broke the silence."Yeah," I replied in a nonchalant tone of voice. Sensing that they were just waiting for my words, I continued. "Nothing, same old thing.""Thought you might make some new friends already," added my grandma. "No, I don't need that at all." Quickly I interrupted her. "You know," began my grandpa again, "We all hope you can make new friends,grandpa, grandma and Hamlet, we all hope..." my grandpa paused then my grandma continued, "and so does that boy..." "No!!! How can someone be my friend who once killed another friend of mine?"
I ran back to my room. I cried that night. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore, just cried out all my sadness and heartache. Then I sat quietly in my bed. I seemed to remember the good times that I had shared with Hamlet. In those moments I was so happy and smiled all the time. I began to be aware that I couldn't let those painful feelings ruin all the wonderful memories I had to Hamlet. I should smile more for him and for my dear grandparents.
I started to make friends with my classmates after that night. I found itdifficult at first when I tired to open up my heart to others. But I must say that my classmates were more accepting. I did make some new friends later.
When you find the real happiness, time seems to start flying. The year soonpassed and I came back to my parents in another city.
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My views about life grow up as I grow up both mentally and physically. When I look back, I realize that it is the best year of my teenage. In that year, I learned how to respect others; I learned how to enjoy relationships with my folks and my friends; and I learned how to open up my heart to hug the wonderful world.
As for that boy, I guess that the year also means a lot to him. Actually I forgave him when I saw him pondering in front of the place where Hamlet was buried. When I was so surprised to see, at the same time, a little cat was playing next to him...I knew I did forgive him. And you won’t believe that we have been good friends since that.
As the years go on, we write to each other once in a while on what is going on.He wrote me to tell his new cat’s name; he wrote me to tell his job about being a doctor. I never asked him the real reason he chose to be a doctor. I guess both of us know it well. I am proud of what he has accomplished.
And I must say that all of these are because of a cat called Hamlet.
