Why Should I Be a Magical Girl? I'm Overworked As It Is! — Chapter 5: An Unwelcome Visitor

Carmen held the empty container in both hands, hoping she was hallucinating again. She set it on the counter, picked it back up, and checked it—just in case her eyes had gotten it wrong.

The sweet grilled onions sat pushed to one side, untouched. The green beans, zucchini, and tomatoes were all gone, along with the chicken. In the second container, all that remained of her rice was a single paw print, pressed dead center.

She’d splurged on this restaurant meal. It cost more than she’d normally allow herself, but it was healthier, and the portions were big enough to split over two days. She’d eaten half of it last night. Tonight was supposed to be the second half.

This is fine, Carmen thought. This is a completely normal thing that is happening to me right now, in my kitchen, at midnight, after a double shift.

She was dreaming, that had to be it. She’d come home, been so tired she’d passed out in bed without remembering, and this was her brain doing something unhinged with the last of its battery life. Maybe reminding her to eat her food before it went bad. She’d had worse dreams.

Her stomach growled.

Hunger moving into her dream world was normal. Her imagination was creative, so imagining the feel of the container… Yeah, she could do that.

Carmen’s hand moved. She just needed to get rid of the cat. Banish her from her dreams. But the moment she touched Shuli, she felt soft, warm fur.

“Gah! I just cleaned myself. Wash your hands first!” Shuli exclaimed, aghast. She swatted at Carmen’s hand with a furious paw.

“Oh my GOD! You’re real!”

Shuli primly licked herself, eyeing Carmen.

“I assure you, Carmen. I’m very much real.”

“You’re a cat,” Carmen said slowly, like she was working through a complex mathematical equation. “That talks… and knows my name.”

Shuli pointed at the plastic name tag clipped to Carmen’s uniform. “Of course I know your name. I can read, you know.”

“What even are you!?” Carmen backpedaled away from Shuli, clutching her hand to her chest.

Shuli sat up a little straighter and said, “I am a girl.”

Carmen sputtered, “That’s not—THAT WASN’T THE QUESTION!”

“You asked what I am. I am a girl cat. I answered your question?”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The neighbor banged on the wall again, yelling, “STOP YELLING!”

Carmen froze, glancing at the shared wall. She dropped her voice closer to a hiss, all the fight going out of it. “What possible reason could there be for a talking cat to invade my space?”

“It’s not just about me, or you,” Shuli said, suddenly serious. “There's an entire world beyond what you know. A world where animals like me are guardians of the Earth, and you, you're part of this. You're one of the chosen ones.”

“Are you being for real right now?”

Shuli continued, undeterred. “Throughout history, our council of evolved animals has been working to maintain balance.”

“Your what?”

“The council.”

“There’s a cat government?”

“It is not a cat government. I said animals. As in, several species. We create magical artifacts, designed for humans. Humans are chosen because they're everywhere, and with their opposable thumbs and unique abilities, they can make a significant impact.”

“Opposable thumbs?” Carmen repeated. “That’s a qualification for saving the world?”

“These artifacts don’t choose just anyone,” Shuli pressed on. “They choose those with certain qualities. Qualities that you, Carmen, inherently possess.”

“Special qualities,” Carmen said flatly. “Like what. Surviving a double shift on three hours of sleep?”

“More like resilience,” Shuli said. “There are others like you—chosen ones, each with a guardian, each with an artifact, playing their part in maintaining harmony in the world.”

Carmen stared at her for a long moment.

“So let me get this straight.” Carmen angrily stepped forward, her eyebrow twitching. “You break into my apartment. You eat my food. And now you're telling me I've been chosen by some secret society to do more work.”

“Well…yes?” Shuli shrank under Carmen’s gaze.

“Hell to the no. Go recruit one of those happy-go-lucky people who have time to volunteer at charities. They’d eat your story up. Or someone, I don’t know, who works out?”

“What? No—I don't think you understand. You’ve been chosen.”

“Yeah. Chosen to be your free meal ticket.” Carmen’s eyes narrowed. “How did you even get in here?”

Shuli lifted her chin and said, “Magic.”

A breeze came in through the window, ruffling the curtains. It was the only window in her studio apartment and Carmen frequently forgot to latch it all the way because she lived on the fourth floor. There was, however, a fire escape attached to the exterior.

For a second, neither of them said anything. They just looked at each other. Carmen didn’t even care about how the cat found HER apartment. Carmen crossed the kitchen, scooped Shuli up under one arm, and started walking to the window.

“Wait—wait!” Shuli's paws scrabbled uselessly against Carmen's forearm. “You misunderstand! This isn't optional, exactly, but I promise it comes with excellent conditions!”

Carmen didn't slow down.

“I already have two jobs.”

“This is a better job! One with purpose! Fulfillment! A wardrobe upgrade, even—”

“Does it come with dental?”

There was a pause. “…Dental?”

“Dental insurance. Do magical girls get dental insurance.”

“I—that's not typically how the arrangement—”

“Then no.”

“There is a pension!” Shuli’s voice climbed half an octave, growing more frantic. “Eventually! After you save the world enough times, there's a pension, of sorts—spiritually speaking—you’ll feel good about yourself!”

“Spiritual enlightenment isn't a 401k.”

“Also,” Carmen added, sliding the window up the rest of the way, “Fighting the forces of evil usually entails injuries and the possibility of death. Does your secret society have a magical hospital where I don’t pay for anything?”

Shuli shut her mouth.

“Yeah. Thought so.”

Shuli’s ears flattened. Carmen set Shuli outside on the fire escape with the calm efficiency of someone taking out the trash.

“But it chose you!” Shuli’s voice rose, indignant, as the window came down between them. Carmen locked it and pulled the curtains closed before letting out a long, tired breath.

“Magic. Chosen ones.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Are you kidding me? As if living wasn't already hard.”

She looked around her apartment—really looked. It was a mess. Her bed was unmade, there were piles of laundry, and the three-seater couch had a dip in it from years of being the only place she ever sat down to eat.

Her furniture was limited to: bed, mirror, desk, chair, sofa, coffee table, and TV stand.

She knew that under the stack of junk mail was another stack of unpaid bills. She'd buried them under the junk mail on purpose, so she wouldn’t have to look at them and get depressed.

This was her life.

“What good is magic if it can’t make my student loans disappear? Make rent more affordable?” she muttered, “At least offer some type of incentive that makes living easier, sheesh.”

She opened her freezer and pulled out an emergency frozen pasta meal. This brand tasted like cardboard, but it had been on sale. She popped it into her microwave and waited for it to finish. She wanted to eat, go back to bed, and pretend like her grasp on reality didn’t get questioned.