I woke up with a terrible headache. Every movement clamped iron claws around my brain so tightly that I was afraid to move. Gritting my teeth, very carefully but still with a soft hiss, I decided to go out to get some painkillers to get me through another morning without plans.
Armed with paracetamol, I went back home, lighting a cigarette. The little box of drugs just by the presence in my pocket seemed to soothe the splitting pain in my skull. Walking back home, behind one of the fences on the street leading to the estate where I used to live back then, I saw a dark shape. Only two yellow points shone in the tarry black ball. I stopped. The cat resembled one from a recurrent dream that I’ve had for some time. They looked alike so much that I shivered. Having excused the funny feeling, I crouched staring at the animal that looked straight into my eyes.
“Kitty, kitty,” I whispered uncertainly, holding out my hand. The cat stretched and yawned, then softly walked over to the fence bars, squeezed between them and placed its head on my open palm. A pleasant touch calmed down, straightened thoughts. And just like that, I’ve returned home with a box of pai killers and a black cat.
“You need a name,” I said. The cat raised its head and looked into the eyes of its new host. After all, cats do not have owners, only hosts. “Maybe … Maybe Jafar?” - the animal turned his head, as if disappointed. - So maybe Frederick? - the cat’s lack of reaction seemed to indicate ignorance of Nietzsche’s person and philosophy. “You’re hard to please,” I sighed and leaned back on the couch, closing my eyes. At the same time, I stopped stroking the cat, which, clearly dissatisfied, slightly dug its claws into my thigh. “I know! I’ll call you Pain!”, the cat looked me in the eyes again, meowed and settled down more comfortably. “Okay. Let it be Pain”.
I got up from the couch and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I needed to get myself together and do something productive with this day. I looked at myself in the mirror. Seeing nothing to marvel at, I reached for the toothbrush, but in the middle of movement I turned my hand to look at the pink line on my wrist. The scar didn’t heal very well. It was oversized, with two perpendicular suture marks on each side. When exercising at the gym or carrying shopping bags, the tissue turned an ugly shade of blue. Sometimes it itched too. It itched when I thought about…
“What is my name?”, I heard behind my back. I couldn’t turn around. I wanted to do it with all my might, but my body was unable to move. Or it was capable, but clearly wasn’t listening to me. I looked up. I saw Pain in the mirror. The cat sat on a laundry basket.
“What is my name?”, the animal repeated. I did not believe what was happening. The cat was clearly moving its mouth, speaking to me in the voice of a young boy, which only added to the horror. I couldn’t speak.
“What is my name?!”, Pain asked again. He was clearly annoyed by my silence. I had no idea why, but I was absolutely sure I had to answer. I had to give an answer now, in this moment, or something very bad would happen.
“WHAT IS MY NAME?!”, the cat screamed, hissing and snorting at the same time. I put the index finger of my right hand into my mouth. I hesitated for a moment, but felt my teeth clamping. I increased the pressure, fighting the nausea and shooting pain. Finally, a bone grated. I did not budge. I bit on, feeling the surfaces rub against each other with a disgusting crunch, gripping the edge of the cupboard so that I wouldn’t faint. Blood ran down my lips in warm rivulets. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the phalangie snapped. I spat out the fingertip, which landed between the red stains on the bleached sink. I raised a trembling hand and began to rub the stinging stump across the mirror. When the terrible, red-dripping word “pain” appeared on the glass, I lowered my hand and took a few deep breaths.
“What is my name?”, again rang in my ears.
A question would have knocked me off my feet and made me cry for sure, but I was in a kind of a crimson trance. I knew what he had to do and I had no option for salvation. Confused, as I wanted to rewrite the cat’s name on the mirror, I have noticed that blood had stopped flowing from my maimed finger. I looked at the reflection of the animal, in whose poisonous eyes there was no trace of compassion, only merciless expectation.
I put my middle finger in my mouth. I bit hard, but not hard enough. Bone objected with a pathetic groan and wouldn’t budge. I pressed my lips tighter and jerked my hand up and down. Drops of blood dripped around in a grotesque fountain. I was like a demented grass sprinkler whose owner said plants needed iron, preferably of human origin, to grow. The tortured phalangie lost the fight and the I spat another finger into the sink. Tormented by convulsions, trembling with terror and pain, I wrote the word “Pain” on the mirror again, this time in capital letters.
“What is my name?”, the cat repeated.
I stared into the animal’s eyes for a clue or any trace of an answer. I felt like a hare who stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the headlights of a speeding car. I shook my head, swayed, and looked at the cat again.
“What is my name?”. I raised my mutilated arm. After a moment I growled, croaked and slammed my fist against the mirror, which bloomed in a spider’s web of cracks. I began to struggle at the sink, smearing blood on the smooth glass, scattering toiletries and spilling soap. I still couldn’t scream or articulate a word. From my lips came only incomprehensible groans and gurgles. At last exhausted, I fell to my knees.
“Good,” I heard behind me. I looked up to the mirror, which now looked more like a madman’s canvas. Three-fingered handprints, vague and torn streaks of red, cracks and stray drops formed a macabre image merging into a twisted, ailing inscription “pain”. “Words have no value until you give them one. If that is what you meant when you named me Pain, I shall bear this name with joy.” I could finally turn my head. I looked at the black cat, its face twisted from ear to ear with a frighteningly white smile.