**A Mothers Heart**
«Mum, whos Mrs. Higgins? Is she our owner? Why does she feed us so poorly?» Tiny, curious eyes stared up at Sima, waiting for an answer. «No, my love, shes not our owner. Shes just an old, sick woman. She doesnt know what shes doing…» «Mum, will the big cats eat me too, like they did my sister?» Whiskers whispered, trembling with fear. Sima sighed heavily. «No, my darling, they wont eat you! I promise!» She began licking her beloved childnow her only oneuntil, soothed, Whiskers fell into a soft, sleepy purr.
Sima was born in the basement of a high-rise in London. There had been four kittens. Her mother was a young cat, barely more than a kitten herself, and when another tomcat appeared on the scene, she abandoned her litter without a second thought. Still, Sima remembered her with gratitude. Despite her flightiness, her mother had fed them, taught them to fend for themselves. Once she was gone, the kittens ventured onto the streets, clinging together in the courtyard where kind souls sometimes left scraps.
Time passed. Grey Brother was hit by a lorry. Tiger was torn apart by dogs. Sima mourned them, her tears falling on their stiff little bodies as she kept vigil until the caretaker shooed her away. She watched as he scooped them onto his shovel and tossed them into the bin. Her sisters fate remained a mystery.
Growing up, Sima learned the rules of the streetssilent, solitary, unseen. Then, one day, she stumbled into hell.
Mrs. Higgins.
She found the old woman rooting through bins near the estate, stuffing her enormous bag with whatever scraps caught her eye. «Puss, puss, come here!» Mrs. Higgins crooned, her eyes wild. No one had taught Sima to fear toothless old ladies, so she approached, hopeful for foodonly to be snatched up and carried into a dingy flat.
«Sima,» the woman declared, dropping her to the floor before vanishing into the chaos. Dozens of hungry eyes locked onto her. «Puss! Puss!» Mrs. Higgins called from the kitchen, and the catssome frail and sickly, others brutish and boldscrambled toward the sound, leaving Sima to take in the horror: piles of filth, mountains of unwashed dishes, the stench of urine and waste, swarms of flies and roaches. And catsso many catsstarving, broken, or savagely fighting for scraps.
Life here was a waking nightmare. Starvation. Fear. Death. Newborn kittens devoured by the older toms if Mrs. Higgins hadnt drowned them first.
Sima survived by hiding in a quiet corner. Then, one day, she realised she was pregnant. A tomcat had courted her briefly on the streetshandsome, fleeting. Now, in this hell, her kittens would be born.
She gave birth silently. A black daughter, like her father, and a ginger son, just like herBella and Whiskers.
She guarded them fiercely. But hunger made the other cats bold. They crept closer, drawn by the kittens tiny movements. The day came when Sima, exhausted, dozed for just a momentthen woke to Bellas shrill cry, the crunch of tiny bones.
Simas fur bristled, a snarl ripping from her throat as she prepared to attackuntil Whiskers small voice cut through her fury. «Mum did they eat Bella?» She turned to see his wide, terrified eyes. If she died fighting, what would become of him?
«Well escape,» she whispered, tears falling. «Ill save you.»
Then, salvationa knock at the door. «Police! Open up!»
Mrs. Higgins panicked. Sima seized her chance, darting past the officers with Whiskers in her jaws.
PC James Holloway looked into her pain-filled eyes and understood. «Dont worry,» he murmured, stroking her head as Whiskers nuzzled her weakly. «Ill take care of him.»
Sima was dying. Her heart, shattered by loss, gave out beneath the birches where James buried her. Rain fell softly as he stood beside the grave, remembering that dayhow hed found them, how Sima had begged him with her eyes to open the door. Fresh from losing his own parents, hed whispered, «Come live with me. I wont hurt you.»
Hed called her «my beauty,» spoiled them both with treats and toys, desperate to erase their past. When she fell ill, he pleaded with her to staybut her eyes had begged for release.
Now, as the rain cleared, a rainbow arched over the trees. James lifted Whiskers, pressing a kiss to his damp nose. «Well be alright, lad.»
Two wounded heartsone man, one kittenwalked toward the car, neither alone anymore.
Somewhere beyond the rainbow, Sima ran with Bella at her side. «But Whiskershes all alone!» Bella fretted.
Sima smiled. «No, my love. Lookhe has a friend now.»
And it was enough.
*Sometimes, the deepest wounds heal in the most unexpected ways. Even in darkness, love finds a path. Beneath the quiet hush of falling leaves, Whiskers grew strong, his fur catching the sunlight like fire. He never forgot the warmth of his mothers breath, the weight of her final leap. Years later, when children gathered at Jamess garden fence, wide-eyed and giggling, Whiskers would pad forward, tail high, and let them stroke his back. He purred not because he remembered pain, but because he chose to remember love. And in the stillness of evening, when James sat on the porch with tea gone cold, a shadow would flicker at the edge of the treesa sleek shape, watching, waitinguntil the wind carried a soft sigh through the grass, and peace settled once more.
