My cat Sammi greets me with her marshmallow fur and drawn-out meows. Her admonishing ways. Maybe I hadn’t refilled her food bowl or scooped out the shit from her litter box. I’m sorry, Sammi, I’ve been busy trying not to die. She curls around my leg and gives an electric shock. My one true friend starting to turn because of my negligence. As I flick on the light, my eyes shut in case my watcher has gotten inside. But when I open them, only my sad apartment stares back. A bed in the corner with messed sheets. A couch facing the TV where I spend most of my time. Cheese-It crumbs and Oreo smears. Cat hair and balled-up Kleenex. I grab a pint of peanut butter swirl, take off my high heels, and flop down, fixing my skirt.

I put my tired dogs on the coffee table between the TV and the couch that holds a bowl with loose change, keys, a sooty pipe, and an old bag of cool ranch. I dig a spoon into the ice cream and observe my toes that look like Vienna sausages. I’d painted them lavender but it was a while ago and the polish started to chip like a little girl’s toenails. I turn on the TV to the latest episode of Socialites, where Magnolia Artois is hosting a charity event for furless dogs. Her friend Taylor RSVP’d that she’s coming, but hasn’t showed. The drama! It turns out that Nikki says Taylor is going to Bella’s dog event that night, who’s Magnolia’s rival from last season and had been kicked off of the show because of the abortion she lied about. (The baby never even existed.) As the opening credits roll, I hear a streaking sound from behind like someone’s cleaning my window. I’d left it open a crack, and I peer outside to see the leaves of the tree swaying in a light breeze.

I go to shut the window when a crash booms from my kitchen. A glass knocked over, shattering on the floor.

“Sammi,” I yell, but the cat is right beside me, her tail batting against the cushion, warning me.

My throat closes up. I wrench the spoon from the melting Ben & Jerry’s and thrust it at my pursuer. I’ll scoop their eyes out if need be. A car drives by casting its headlights over the TV where Magnolia and her frenemies are entering into a war of choosing sides between Bella and her. Sammi doesn’t bother protecting me and darts off into a corner.

Another glass shatters.

The kitchen bathed in darkness, but a shadow takes shape. Tall and imposing, although that could be my little blue pills making me see things.

Get it together. Get it together.