My first post on this blog was about my cat, Zachary. It was about how he ran away and how worried I was that he'd been hit by a car and that I wouldn't be able to handle another cat dying because of someone's inability to watch the road.

Thismorning, I woke up to the sound of my mother crying. I heard her come into my room, check to see if I was awake and then turn around and leave. Less than ten seconds later, she comes back in and I ask her, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Blubbering, she tells me that Zach got hit by a car, and that he was gone.

Naturally, I called both my best friend and my boyfriend (in that order). They both told me how sorry they were and that they loved me and that if I needed to talk, they're here for me.

The house feels empty without him, I think the dogs can sense that he's gone. I've become paranoid, however, following my other cat, Maggie, around the house, making sure she never leaves my sight.

I'll calm down eventually.

It's been over a year...

Since I've even looked at this thing. I'd originally signed up for the whole blogging thing so I could use it as a creative outlet, but (like everything else) it ended up in the corner, covered in dust next to that scrapbook and the sketches and the mediocre YA fiction novel attempts.

Let's try this again.