It's gonna get emotional from here guys. So turn back if you don't wanna be hit with a wave of sadness... even though its life.

I'm gonna keep it as short as I can.

So basically, I was at the backyard of my house. When I heard this small hopeful, yet helpless cry:

Mew! Mew! Mew!

It was so soft and weak. But then I head thunder, drowning out the cries.

So I unlatched the door to go to the alleyway behind my house, to find the source of the noise.

Panicking, I traced the mews, which were getting softer and more desperate by the second, to a dustbin.

I peered inside, and saw, at the bottom. A tiny black kitten.

The kitten couldn't have been more than two days old, her eyes were barely open, and she couldn't walk yet.

It was about to rain and the thunder was loud, so I scooped her out carefully and rushed back inside, cradling it gently to my chest. I rushed to find my mom, and when she saw it, tears were already spilling out of my eyes. (I know, I'm emotional over cats)

My mom was speechless, but nevertheless, she got out a tiny syringe, (we used it for an injured pigeon that we rescued once) and filled it with goat milk.

Then we set to feeding it.

The next day, her eyes were open, they were a deep, deep blue. So we named her Blu Thunder.

I nearly cried when a few days later, she started walking. She was strong and healthy.

The amount of newborn kitten guidance and tutorial videos I watched was agonising.

I thought it payed off...

But then one day, her weight plummeted, she lost like a lot of weight in one night. She wouldn't even eat..

I told my parents she needed the vet.

They said tomorrow.

Tomorrow.. I waited till tomorrow.

But she was dead.