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It was mid-afternoon when Amalia was walking along the river when she spotted a bag in the river. She didn’t think much of it at first, but then she heard faint meows from the bag. Amalia was a huge animal lover, so she jumped into the icy cold waters of the river to rescue the animals. Amalia swam against the current, but since Amalia was a decently strong swimmer, she was able to reach the bag rather quickly. Amalia grabbed the bag and felt the heavy weight of it and instinctively knew that there were rocks in the bag.
She took a hold of the bag and climbed out of the river, opposite to the side she had jumped into. She undid the knot that kept the bag closed. Inside the bag were three small kittens. They were soaked to the bone, their fur sticking to them like they were drowned rats rather than kittens. Amalia smiled at them and took off her blue jean jacket and wrapped it around the small kittens in hope of warming them up.
The kittens shivered and curled up against each other. Amalia carefully held the jacket with the kittens and walked down the river until she found a bridge. She crossed the bridge and checked on the kittens. They were now sleeping and they had warmed up. When Amalia entered her house that she lived in with her brother, mom, and dad.
“Amalia, what is that?” asked dad. Amalia showed the kittens to her dad and said “They’re kittens dad. Someone tried to drown them.” “Is that why you look like a half drowned rat?” asked mom dryly. Amalia turned around to see her mom in the doorway of the kitchen. “Mom!” said Amalia embarrassed.
“What are you planning on doing with the kittens?” asked dad, a knowing look in his eyes. “Well, I was hoping to be able to keep them,” said Amalia, smiling at the sleeping kittens. Mom looked at Dad and sighed. “You can take care of them,” said Dad. “As long as you keep on top of your schoolwork,” said Mom.
“Thanks Mom!” said Amalia. She set the kittens down on the couch in the living room. There were two black kittens and a dark gray kitten. The only way Amalia could tell the difference between the black kittens was by the little patch of white on one of the black kitten’s chest, which she named Sirius. Next was the other black kitten, who was named Chuuya, he had no identifying marks, but could still be told apart from Sirius.
The last kitten was the dark gray one, which was named Hosea by my brother. My brother, Jay, had come through the front door, saw the kittens and named the gray kitten Hosea. Prior to Jay coming into the house, he had been mowing the lawn next door at our neighbor’s house. My brother is weird, Amalia thought. Naming Hosea, Hosea without his name being spelled Josea doesn’t make any sense.
“The kittens are really cute,” said Mom standing next to me. “They really are,” said Amalia, looking down at the sleeping kittens in her lap. “Thank you for letting me keep them,” said Amalia. “Of course, dear,” said Mom.
A year later, the kittens, Sirius, Chuuya and Hosea, were playing in the garden as Amalia watched them and she smiled at them. I’m glad I was able to save them, thought Amalia.
The End