Dad Swears the Cat Is My Brother

Harry's POV

"Harry, look! It's Gary! Gary's back!"

At the sound of Dad's voice, I turned and saw a kitten in his arms.

On its front right paw was a brown patch of fur. It matched the birthmark on my brother Garrett Johnston's wrist perfectly.

From that day on, Dad became obsessively convinced that the cat was Garrett reincarnated. He named him Gary, Garrett's nickname.

"Harry, your brother went through so much to come back to us. You have to be understanding and give him the best of everything, okay?"

Dad stroked the kitten, his eyes brimming with affection.

I was thrilled too and nodded eagerly.

Back then, I naively believed Garrett had returned. Our family could finally be happy again.

But just two days later, I came home from school to find that the blue desk Mom had built for me by the window was gone. In its place stood a massive, luxurious automatic litter box.

I froze in the doorway with my heavy backpack still on my shoulders, completely lost.

Dad was crouching on the floor, carefully pouring expensive imported litter into it.

Noticing me, he paused, gave my head a gentle pat, and softly tried to comfort me. "Harry, Gary can't get used to a regular litter box. This spot has good ventilation so he won't feel stuffy. Do you mind studying at the dining table for now? Gary's had a rough time."

Seeing the conflicted look on Dad's face, I nodded.

Half a month later, the wooden bunk bed Garrett and I used to share was torn down.

An entire wall was transformed into a lavish, intricate cat tree. It was lined with plush cashmere pads and hung with all sorts of fancy toys.

Meanwhile, my clothes and bedding were dumped like garbage in the corner of the covered balcony.

Dad was holding a feather wand, playing affectionately with Gary. When he saw me, he pressed his lips together and said with an earnest tone, "Harry, Gary needs space to move around. Do you mind squeezing onto the balcony for a bit?

"I set up a little bed out of cardboard boxes for you. Just bear with it. Gary's only a helpless kitten right now."

I turned around in silence and walked out to the cluttered balcony.

I pieced together a tiny makeshift platform out of a few old boxes and spread my thin blanket over them.

That night, I curled up on the cardboard, shivering uncontrollably from the cold.

Through the sliding glass door, I could see the warm glow of the bedroom light. Gary was sprawled out on my soft mattress, while Dad lovingly brushed his fur.

I couldn't make sense of it. If Garrett was finally back, why did I feel so utterly miserable?