A/N: Hey there, I'm Jillian. I'm pretty new to this fandom, but I needed to write away my troubles, and that lead to my depression comparing me to a rather unlikely character. So, here it is.


I am special.

I've known that I was since the day I was born.

I was ordinary at first, as all kits are, but I wasn't like the others. I wasn't very quick to fit into the tribe. I like to be alone. What's wrong with wanting space? Apparently everything.

When I first discovered my powers, it was as though I had gone to the Heaviside Layer and been reborn. It was like I was a whole new person, a whole new kitten in the tribe. Now, the time I spent alone was "practice" and not looked down upon by the other cats. They accepted me.

Magic truly made everything better. I could perform tricks and everyone would squeal with delight. I'd thrive off the cheers and applause of people who once shunned me. They liked me - it was extraordinary! I felt like I belonged.

I naturally adored the attention, but it didn't go to my head.

It was sweet how the little ones would ask for a show. Why not oblige? It was simple, and I loved the thrill it gave me. Something as simple as pulling a scarf out of an old hat, or knowing exactly what card to pick from a deck, sent tingles down my spine. I knew this was what I was meant to be doing - the Everlasting Cat himself must have decided it.

But things changed as I got older. There were certain expectations and obligations I had to face. These tricks, my one true escape, were deemed "immature" and I couldn't "waste my time" practicing them. I had to let go of that part of me.

I wasn't ready to let go, though. I let my magic define me for so long, I relied so heavily on it, that it consumed me. I tried to let go, but I felt so hollow without it. When I couldn't, my tribe tried to help. Eventually, I lashed out on those closest to me. I understand now that that was why they wanted me to stop. They wanted me to let this part of me go so I wouldn't hurt anyone, but I did. And now, I am paying the price for it.

To say I feel regret is an understatement. That was the worst mistake of my life.

I thought I would be fine. I figured I'd be able to start over, to reinvent myself, to find new cats to appreciate my talent.

I soon realised that nobody ever liked me. They tolerated me because I had something to offer, something that no longer held value to them. They never liked me, they only liked my magic. What I didn't know as a kitten (that I learned too late), was how unforgiving life outside the Junkyard truly is.

I lost everything.

No, I didn't lose everything; I unfortunately still had my magic. It haunts me now. It reminds me that I disappointed my tribe, my family - I failed them.

I was special.

Not anymore. I am a shell of what I once was, driven by this thing which used to make me feel extraordinary, but now makes me a monster.

It wouldn't be that way if I had stayed in the Junkyard. Magic is still an amazement to them. They wouldn't be as cruel as the outside world. They were accepting and understanding, like a haven for all of cat-kind. There's only one problem with the Junkyard:

I'm not there...