Death Takes Us All, But Why So Soon?

I've had a bad day today, unfortunately my Cat died. Her name was Molly and we've had her since she was a tiny kitten. She got hit by a car. This blog isn't going to be me crying over her, it's gonna be me remembering her how she should be remembered <3
I remember when we went and got her. Me and my brother Luke were wriggling in the back seat of the car, it was a surprise where we were going and we loved surprises. We turn into a road and here we are, outside this random house. The big grins disappear. We beg to know where we are, and eventually Dad cracks. "We're coming to buy you a cat!" I screamed, come on I was a 9 year old girl! Me and Luke practically flew to the house and banged on the door as hard as our fists could cope. A gentle old lady answered, confusion on her face. She looked behind us, saw our parents and smiled, realising who we were. She took us round into her garden, which was filled with two huts.
Molly was the first cat we saw and we fell in love with her instantly, she was the cat we wanted to take home. The lady was set on us seeing the other cats so we did, but we went running back to Molly. She was joyful and happy and we wanted her! She was what we got.
In the car home she was in her cat box next to us, and I was so tempted to open it up and just stroke and hold her, but Dad said No and Mum said No, so I held in the temptation the whole way home. We got home, and both me and Luke carried her cat box, none of us wanting the other to have first claims. When we got in we were shouting wanting her to come out and she got scared, so Mum told us to go sit nicely in the living room whilst we let Molly get used to her new home.
We were quivering in excitement, but she looked so lost and scared so we let her be. As she got more and more used to the house, she came and sat on our laps more often and for longer series of time. We loved her so much, we didn't want to leave her alone.
She was hyper-active. She used to sprint up the stairs after you, attacking your feet, and gently biting you. When she fell asleep, or somebody stroked her, or anything she enjoyed, she purred non stop and unbelievably loudly, it was like a fog horn! She was constantly rubbing up against my leg, begging for me to stroke just behind her ears where she loved it. She was content and happy.
When my  parents split up we decided to leave her at the house she was used to, so at first she stayed with my Dad until he moved out, then Mum moved in and she stayed there. When Mum got her new kitten, Molly and Boots didn't get on, so she moved into my Dad's house. We all love her. We all put up with her constantly meowing for a stroke, constantly farting in our faces, constantly trying to steal our food.

We miss her already, but we have to remember the good times that we all had with her. It was strange, she always knew when I was sad, and she'd always come running up to me and sit on me and try and comfort me.

RIP Molly, we love you. <3