I hadn't been born a cat. In fact, I had had quite a normal life until my sixteenth birthday. I had grown up in the village of Sara's Creek, a place renowned for its apparent seraph sighting a few centuries back, and led a peaceful life, spending the majority of my time reading or helping my father out on the farming fields or in the dairy.
A suitor had come my way: a young handsome man of seventeen years. He had seemed nice enough but I had always suspected there was something rather unpleasant about him, underneath that friendly exterior. My suspicions were confirmed when one day he had taken me out to the banks of a river and tried to take my innocence when I was still a child and when we weren't even courting (I hadn't instantly allowed such a relationship between us when he'd first appeared and revealed he was attracted to me - that would have been stupid). I had told him what I thought of him and he had shown that he despised being talked to in that way. He warned me that when I was old enough to be considered a young woman and for the things which he wished to do to me, he would try to 'win my attention', as he put it, again. He warned me that if I refused him, he would lay a curse upon me so that no one could have me until I saw sense and gave in to his most outrageous desires.
Several months later, the day of my coming of age came and the man reappeared. He asked me to meet me under the apple tree in the field on which the cows grazed at eleven of the clock that evening.
Boldly, I set out to give him a piece of my mind. When I told him that I would never give myself to him, he became enraged. He jumped up and down like a child and told me I was the most insolent girl he knew. Then he pulled out a handful of what looked like earth from his pocket and threw it over me, chanting 'Torn Unto Un Chat', which I later realised meant 'Turn into a cat'. As I coughed and spluttered at the acrid smell which filled my nostrils, I felt myself shrinking and the structure of my bones changing. It was the most alarming thing I had ever experienced in my life. One moment I was a young woman with flowing brown hair and open honest eyes (so people told me) and the next, I was a cat - black from the look of it. Terrified, I ran back to my house. I meowed loudly at my parents' house but when they saw me, they slammed the door in my face, not realising it was I, their daughter. I then knew for certain that I was a black cat because my parents were superstitious folk and would not shut out just any sort of creature.
Mewling pitifully (the feline version of crying), I crept into a corner of the barn where the hay was stored and settled down for a night that I wish to forget.