The Lost Cat

She sits in her room, quite content. She sets her alarm for school the next day. And then she remembers the tragedy. And her heart becomes sluggish, and weighted down by worry. She remembers her lost one. She is trying ever so hard, but sometimes it becomes too much. But she can't, won't cry, because that meant weakness, that meant giving up. She fought the tears, and held them off. She was getting rather good at it actually. She thought of the land outside, being consumed by rain. The floods. How would her poor, innocent cat survive out there. Her cat was a house cat that hated the outdoors, and should have been back by now. Roughly two days she had been missing. It wasn't like her cat. Either she had been killed, so she could not return, or someone else had taken her in, and fed her. The girl tried her hardest not to give up hope. This cat had been with her for a long time. Around four years. She had had that cat since it was a kitten and had known it since it was born. She remembered when the cats sister had gone missing and never came back. How she had cried into the cats fur. Like now. Her eyes were pooling up, but she fought the tears, and wiped them away angrily. She wouldn't give up hope yet. Her cat had never given up hope on her, despite the countless times the girl had held the cat closely in her arms whispering her misfortunes to the cat, and then sobbing into its soft coat. But if her cat did not return, the girl was not sure how she could handle everything. Slow School. Sick Mother. Lost Loved One. So many things...How was she supposed to do take care of everything all at once? 
Maybe she couldn't.