11:00 pm. 

The cat was back. She knew it was. She could feel it and hear it. It was right outside the back door. It was very strange, this cat. But even stranger was the fact that it seemed to show up at a specific point in time. It only came to visit when she felt sad, hurt, or frustrated. It was like the cat knew, somehow, that she was going through something difficult. It was strange. How could a feline know something like that about someone? 

The cat didn't bother her. It was a nice gray cat with blue eyes. It wasn't evil. It wasn't a black cat, so she didn't think it was about bad luck. In fact, the cat helped her. It would come to her back porch, and she would let it in. It would leave in a few days once she felt better. And then it would come back again when she felt bad. 

She named the cat Blue. She decided to stop thinking so much about the cat and just let it in. Slowly, she got up from the couch, holding a mug of steaming tea in one hand and a red knitted blanket in the other. She opened the back door and Blue walked right in. It was like Blue knew that he belonged there. He had a mission, and it was to help her. He had to help the sad girl. 

She watched Blue walk into her home and jump onto the gray couch. All the furniture was gray. That happened when she was lonely. Everything was gloomy and gray, including the furniture. Maybe Blue wasn't even gray. Maybe he just looked gray because she felt a little sad. Who knew? 

She sat next to Blue and stared at him for a while. He didn't do much. He was just a cat, after all. He just sat there, sometimes cuddling up next to her. Other times just sitting by himself. But they were always on the couch. She reached out and ran her hand down his head and back. He sat still. It was like he didn't even feel it. 

There was a black and white movie on TV. She wasn't too familiar with movies, so she didn't know which one it was. But she looked at the TV, never really seeing anything. It was all just shapes that blurred into a big gray blob the longer she stared. Then she would focus on the picture and do it all over again. Again and again. The house was quiet. She could hear the air blowing through the vents. She could hear the ticking noise of the clock that hung on the wall. It was eerie, and it matched her mood. 

She couldn't really remember what it was that made her so quiet this time. Maybe it was a bad breakup or a bad fight. She didn't know. She always felt like she was being watched when she felt like this. Maybe it was just Blue.  

She had almost forgotten about Blue. He sat there, batting at a loose piece of thread from the couch cushion with his paw. She pet him again. No reaction. Maybe he was tired this time. Maybe she should let him sleep. She didn't think that he would sleep. She didn't think she could sleep either. 

She sat there wrapped in her blanket and sipped her tea until it was all gone. Then she set the mug down. The tea made her feel warm, almost happy. Almost. She looked at the TV again, this time paying attention to the people on the screen. There was a man in a suit talking to a woman in a dress, with pearls around her neck. She thought they might be fighting. But she wasn't sure because there were no words. She looked over at Blue. He was on the table now. It was a metal table, maybe. She wasn't really sure anymore. 

Blue sat on the table and started playing with a ball of yarn. It made her laugh. When she laughed, the table turned red. She stared at it. It wasn't blood red; it was a calming red. She liked it. It made her feel a bit happier because the colors were coming back. She touched the table. She stopped and looked at her hand: it was still gray. But the red was back. The red always came back first. 

She started to feel sleepy, probably because of the tea. This always happened, and she forgot that she wasn't supposed to drink the tea again. She laid her head on the couch pillow and closed her eyes.