Leo, the Heart of Maryam
“More than a pet, Leo was the heartbeat of Maryam’s world.”
Mariam was always different. Others dreamed of great careers, sparkling lights, romantic fairy tales, but their minds found his rhythm with the gentle chords of small fur balls called Leo. Leo was more than just a cat. He was her world.
She was only 12 years old and stood in the middle of a rainy afternoon hearing a weak cry under a parked car. She kneeled and found a trembling kitten - lively, soaked and dusty in her abdomen. His fur clinged to his fragile body and his eyes, but he was tired and hopeful. That was the moment when Leo came to her life. She didn't ask for permission and didn't hesitate for a moment. She wrapped him in a scarf and took him home as if his mother was wearing a newborn baby. From that day on, Leo was more than just a pet - he was her son, her shadow, and soon the heart of her world. Mariam called him Leo. Over time, he became stronger, healthier and more loving. He chased her from room to room, sleeping next to her every night, gently tweaking her face as she cried. With his soft, careful eyes, Mariam found a kind of love she had never known before. Leo was there through everything. When Mariam had to deal with her school work, Leo sat next to her textbook, his legs sometimes pushed down to one side, thinking he wanted to help. As her classmates got cold and whispered down the hallway, Mariam went home and collapsed on the floor and cried. Leo rolled over her chest, purring gently, as if she were to add her sadness to his little heart. For many years, a season of joy and sadness. Leo was there when Mariam's grandmother died - he sat by her side all night, quietly sobbing. He was there when she won her first award at school and danced around her legs like a proud parent. And when she had to go to college for a few days, Leo waited for the door every night, his eyes searching for Mariam in the darkness. They were owners and pets alone. They were soulmates in the purest sense. In each photo of Maryam's wall there was a Leo - on her lap, on her lap, only a blurry orange strip that sometimes jumped into the background. But he was always there and was a quiet presence in every chapter of her life. often laughed when she called him her son. But she didn't take care of it. Leo was not what she had. He was someone he belonged to.Even when he was older - his stairs were slow, his fur was a little thinner - Leo didn't stop waking up about her. He knew she was tired. He felt it when her heart was difficult. And Mariam knew - no matter what happens in the world, Leo will become her constant, her anchor, her home. One night after she moved into her dream job and her own small apartment, Mariam sat by the window lying next to her. The golden sunset left as she whispered: "Do you think we'll always be like that, Leo?" Leo looked up, flashing slowly, and held his head gently. She understood. It was his way to say yes. There was a truth that never faded, no matter how long the hours passed, no matter how the world changed. Leo wasn't just her life - He was her life. Your home. Your heart. And in this love of love, which is no language, no promise, no end, Mariam and Leo remained together. Always.
About the Creator
Jannatul Mariyam
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Storyteller sharing life, emotion, and creativity—one story at a time.
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More stories from Jannatul Mariyam and writers in Petlife and other communities.
“Where the Heart Comes Home”
Within a few weeks, the daily rhythm fades away. But then there are these unusual things - brought into the soul forever. This weekend, my world has been slower and I whispered love. It started with a sudden plan. My parents decided to spend the weekend with the scenery of my grandparents at home. It's an old squealing house that smells old books, spices and unconditional love. I hadn't visited in years and was kicked out of school, city life and excuses. At the time I didn't know that this visit would be a memory of returning to my quietest moment. Arrived late on a Friday evening. Dadu waited at the wooden gate, his back bent slightly, but his eyes glowed with mischievousness. Daddy continued quickly, wiping his hands on the faded apron, her face glowing as if the moon had arrived. Her arms were wrapped in the warmth around me, which I hadn't realized I had missed it. The family had not changed much. The sturdy wall clock was still silent and echoing. The swing still smudges into the backyard. But it was multiple homes - it was preserved in brick and breathing memories. A lively museum of our family filled with whispers of the past. Tonight we sat on the floor with our legs crossed and like in the old days, we had Daddy's famous chicken curry with our hands. My little cousin buried the curry in his shirt and Dadu joked that he had "essensstattoo". The laughter was filled with realism, my heart warmed, my eyes flapping without knowing why. On Saturday we woke up early to the sound of birds and the smell of parathas burning in the kitchen. Dadu claimed that we all went to the nearby riverbank, as we were used to as children. The air smelled wet grass and childhood. We skipped the stones, tried to catch a small fish with our hands, and took dozens of stupid photos. Daddy chose the table center wildflowers and compiled old songs that no one knew, but we all felt. I played Carrom late in the afternoon, made mangoes with Dati, and DADU helped repair the old transistors. He told me that this transistor once played an incredible guide speech. His voice trembled and we all went quiet. Every moment felt small, but together they became something far away - the sacred thing. The type day that doesn't ask anything else gives everything. That night, a storm was caught up in the air. The rain was knocked against the window like a forgotten melody. The lights flickered, and for a moment the house fell into the darkness. But Dadu illuminated the lanterns and we all pushed together, wrapped in quilts and stories. The world has disappeared outside.
By Jannatul Mariyam 8 months ago in Families
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
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Interesting!!!