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Once upon a time, in a place not so far away lived a cat named Reflection. To most people Reflection wasn't much to look at. He had dirty black and white fur with patches of grease stains from rubbing up against a stack of old, discarded tires, which was where he humbly called " Home." He had a slender build, which was caused from a lack of food and adequate water. He didn't complain though and was grateful for what he did have. Reflection often laid and thought back about when he was just a kitten. He remembered how cold he was, laying in a pile of old papers inside a broken down old shack. His mom tried her best to keep him and his brothers and sisters warm but she too was very skinny and it was hard for her to even keep warm. He remembered she would go out in search of any food, sometimes looking in these big silver containers, but was often frightened away by humans, being forced to return to us empty pawed. It was very frightening. Before long my brothers and sisters, as well as my mom went to sleep and for some reason never woke up. I meowed loudly, as it made me very sad. My whole family was gone, and I was all alone. As weak and dirty as I was, I knew I had to be brave and venture out in this frightening world to try and find food and water. I didn't know which way to go. I smelled food, but when I'd get close, a person would yell at me, sometimes throwing a rock, or swinging a broom at me, telling me to go away. These humans would call me all sorts of names, like dirty stray. I never understood why. Do you think it was because I was born in a garbage pile? My mom said she never meant to have us there, but the human in the house she was living in said she was tired of her and put her in the car, driving out to where there were no houses, stopping the car, then opening the door, tossed her out and sped away. ( story will continue in part two).
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