Record 1 – Something’s Wrong with the Morning

I woke up today… and the morning felt broken.
Not just strange.
Broken.

The room was too quiet.
No steps.
No voices.
No clatter of mugs.
No smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen.

I lay there on my blanket and listened.
Nothing.
Not even the long, boring sound of the washing machine that always annoyed me at this hour.
Only a heavy, thick silence.
Like a blanket, but cold.

I stood up.
My paws felt the floor – cold too.
I walked to the window.
The light was brighter than usual.
Not warm and soft.
Sharp.
Like the sun forgot how to shine properly.

Outside, the street was empty.
No cars.
No people rushing with their giant cups.
No shouting.
No honking.
Just emptiness.

I felt a strange pull in my chest.
A little spark.
A tiny voice inside my head.
Not “meow.”
Not a simple feeling.
But a word.
A real word.
“Why?”

I froze.
I didn’t know I could think like that.
Not like a cat.
Like… something else.
Something new.
Something that scares me even now, as I write this.

I tried to call out.
“Meooow?”
It felt wrong.
Too small for the huge silence around me.

I went to the door.
The handle was down.
Unlocked.
My human never forgot to lock it.
Never.

I pushed it open with my paw.
The hallway was empty too.
Every door closed.
No voices behind them.
No smells of food.
Nothing.

Something deep inside me whispered again.
Another word.
A big one.
A confusing one.
“Alone.”

I didn’t want that word.
I hissed at it, as if I could chase it away.
But the silence hissed back – quiet but bigger than me.

I walked a few steps down the hall.
My tail kept moving on its own.
Left, right, left, right.
Nervous.
Like it knew something I didn’t.

At the window at the end of the corridor, I looked down at the street.
Still empty.
Still bright.
Still wrong.

And then I felt another new thing.
Not fear.
Not hunger.
Not curiosity.
A thought.
Clear as water.

“Find someone.”

Someone must be here.
Someone must have stayed.
A cat.
A dog.
A bird.
Anyone.

And if anyone is out there, maybe they feel the same cold silence wrapping around them.
Maybe they’re scared too.
Maybe they’re waiting for someone brave enough to look.

I don’t know if I’m brave.
But I know this:
I can think now.
I can understand.
I can choose.

So I will choose to go.
Out the door.
Down the stairs.
Into this strange, bright, empty morning.

And I’ll write it all down.
Every step.
Every sound.
Every creature I meet.

I promise.
I’ll go find someone.
Anyone.
And you’ll hear what I find.