I was sitting on my couch, watching Netflix, when my cat Frieda decided to perch herself on top of my legs.

I pet her for awhile, enjoying her company, glad she was finally warming up to me for once.

She purred for a bit, then stopped. I wanted to go make dinner, but I was sort of stuck underneath her.

I ended up falling asleep. I woke up late the next morning, sun glaring through the windows, Frieda still on my lap.

I stared at her to make sure she was breathing, and she was, but she was unmoving. I tried shaking her awake, but to no avail.

I started to panic after I could not get her off of me, no matter how much strength I used to push her.

I tried sliding out from underneath her, shaking her, and pinching her face, but she wouldn’t move. She wasn’t that heavy, was she?

My legs began to feel numb after a few hours. This wasn’t normal. I should’ve been able to push her off.

I decided to try and call a friend, but the number went to voicemail. I tried a second friend. Voicemail. Same with the next two.

I called 911. Something was off.

“Hi, I’m kind of—stuck. I don’t know. I can’t get up, I’ve tried everything.”

“You have the wrong number for that. Try elderly services, maybe?”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m pinned to the couch, I-“

“Sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”

The person hung up. Was 911 even allowed to do that?

“HEEEEELLLLLPPPPPPP!”

I yelled as loud as I could, but the slight breeze only whistled back, mocking me. I flailed around helplessly.

“HEEELLLpp me—please…”

It was the same thing for the next few days as I slowly succumbed to the force on my lap.

At one point I looked down at Frieda, and she was skin and bones. She wasn’t breathing, either.

A dead cat was on my lap, pinning me to the couch. I was helpless.

She became skinnier than I knew was possible, and so did I. I just wanted to die. I was drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the following days.

Then, finally, she fell off. Her stiff, lifeless body rolled off of me and tumbled onto the floor with a thump. I stood up too fast, forgetting I hadn’t eaten in weeks, and vertigo overtook me.

I woke up. It had been a dream. I was still pinned to the couch, desperate to really wake up from this nightmare.

I don’t know how I’m still alive, but I’ve been here for several weeks, rationing the water bottle I thankfully left beside me. I think I need to figure out a way out besides starving to death, because my cat won’t get off my lap.