When I was at my parents for the weekend I noticed that my mom's cat (family cat for years) wasn't himself and was struggling doing the simplest things and would often try to hide himself, but I was to afraid to say anything to my parents because I was scared of their response. I knew the cat wasn't doing well and was back and forth from the Vet. and the idea of him being sick was constantly passing through my mind the entire weekend I was with them. I wasn't sure what was wrong with him at all, but every time I pet him, tried to feed him or even see him I knew he wasn't doing well, but I kept saying it was all in my head and that he was okay. The last day I spent at my parents house I decided to sneak out and stay over at friends for the night and chill. As I walked down the stairs to leave the house I seen him, he was walking slowly down the hallway trying to get to my parent's bathroom (probably want to hide again) and I knew he was in pain, but I just didn't know what to do and every time he went to hide I would go find him right away, but this time I didn't and left the house. I talked with my friend that night and tried to have a good time, but my mind was still back at my parent's wondering if the cat was okay. I went back home in the morning and my dad is sitting on the couch and my mom is in the washroom crying... My dad looks at me and tells me the cat is gone. I asked my dad where he was when you found him and he told me he found him in the doorway to the bathroom. He must have died the moment I left the house... and this memory haunts me because I should have said more or at least been there so he didn't pass alone and scared. I cried several times a day just thinking about. I never told my parents or anyone. I feel like a coward when ever I think of that.