Happy days die...but some survive

Today I get a terrible message. Leo is dead. A car ran over my loved cat. It's the second time that I lose a cat this way. I don't know why such things always happen to me. I can't stand the imagination that my little darling won't come home anymore. I can't stand to know, that I will never hear his lovely curr or feel his soft fur under my hands. I can't stand the imagination that I will lie alone in my bed the next nights.... I hope that he's now in the cat-heaven and that he's fine and happy. I hope he's gone to this better place...
My Leo. My Leo.... Rest in Peace. I will never forget you. My loved little kitty :-*

I think I should warn the readers, this is going to be a very long text, maybe the longest I've ever written, but this thoughts, this angry and sad thoughts have been such a long time in my mind and now I finally decided to write them down. Please excuse my gramatical and spelling mistakes, but I try concentrate on the contet of this text and on the emotions...


You moved into the neighboring house, seven years ago. I lived four years in the same house. I was eight when you came and I still know, I was very disappointed, because you had no children, but later you bought a dog and then the problem was finished for me. The next years I got to know you and I liked you very much. You played with me, when I was bored, you said funny things to me and you just were like a good friend to me. When my parents divorced you were there for me and talked about my fears. I don't know why I didn't realize how much you hated my father and why you impersonated my mother as the victim and my father as a rowdier and not caring husband and father. I know if I had noticed what you think of him, I'd never have told you so much. But I was a naive, stupid, little girl. I thought you were really interested in my destiny, but you just wanted to have some variety from your boring jobless life. And that was always your problem. The boredom. You didn't have any occupation and so you barged in the life of other people. But nobody really told you. I did, but you didn't believe me.
And than, I think, I was thirteen or fourteen, you began to ask me very private and personal things. At first I thought you joshed, when you ask "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Did you already have sex?" "How big are your breasts? Did they grow again?" and you just didn't talk. You also touched me. You touched my ass and grabbed between my legs and you always looked into my neckline. You said, you wanted to prepare me for the boys. You said, short and snappy clothes would make the guys horny and I should dress myself this way. I really get many compliments from you. You told me how pretty I am. First I liked it but anytime it went too far and I told you so, but you didn't believed me. You always said to me: "Everything, what's happening here, behinde this wall, will stay here forever. It will never leave our mouths." And so I stayed quiet. It was simply too embarrassing for me.
Than, anytime, we argued and it all stopped... (I'm very glad about it)
Okay, now, let's go back. Well, you barged into my life. Too much. You barged in my life. You watched me and said that I should go to parties and meet friends and not always sitting at home. But you never noticed, that I liked the way I lived my life. But you didn't believed me and thought, that my father would forbide me, to behave like a real teenager. You always said, that I am not a real teenager and that I should see a psychologist. You said, that I am a little princess, who just acts for her own advantage and everyone who stands in her way, would be knocked out so easily. And I ask you now. Do you know me at all? You never noticed what's really going on.
Since I told you, that I move back to my father, you began to talk insistently to me. You said again and again that my father just wanted to have me back, because he needed somebody who do the housework, who hurts my mum and because he wanted to have more money. I told you, that I know my father very well and that I have my reasons why I move back, but you just didn't want to be quiet. Anytime, when you grumbled about my father, again, we argued. After that, we never talked to each other again. I thought I could life in peace, after all, but I was wrong. You were angry with me and you hated my father more than ever before and you searched for anything, that could bring him down and me back to my mother. And so you stood on your window with a spyglass and observed me. You knew everything about me. You knew, when I came home, when I left the house, you knew what I did the whole day.. you knew really everything. I didn't like that. I felt uneasy and I told my family about it. But everyone just said: "don't take it seriously, he's just bored and worried. Don't get upset about it" I also told my mother, but she just laughed. Now I know why. I think nobody understood how much it annoied me...and nobody really helped me. After month of beeing observed I got a pleasant message. You and your cohabitant decided to go seperate ways and so you moved away. I was so happy that you finally disappeared out of my life. Meanwhile I really hated you. It wasn't just rage, no, it was really bottomless hatred and it's still the same. But instead of finally leave my life you go in deeper than ever before. You are the cohabitant of my mother now. Felicitation. You walked from one ready-made position right into the next, again.
But what should I do. I can't change anything. I can't stop you. I wish I could. But you should know:
I wish you to death. I hope you croak torturous. I wish you every deadly disease, which exist on this earth. And I really hope, that I never have to look into your ugly frog-face, again.

I hate you.