Revenge

I was born cursed, and I knew it.

I couldn't remember much from back then, but I knew there was blood. Lots of blood. Crimson red, flowing like a red river. That's what I was named for. The tide of maroon: Velvetkit. There was screeching, and wailing, and something that sounded like sobbing. I didn't know anything back then, of course. How innocent I was.

Oh, and one more thing: my own mother died while giving birth to me.

You think I'm trying to win sympathy votes? I'm over that. I grieved, like any cat would, but I learned to get over it. But the thing I couldn't get over was how my father treated me. Being the deputy, you would have thought he'd have more sense, but alas, he blamed me for her death. He let it seep into his heart, turning it bitter. He hates me, in fact. Getting me in trouble for practically nothing at all, scorning me as if I were a rather troublesome fly, you name it, he did. When I became apprentice, I thought my worrying days were over.

But I was dead wrong.

The other apprentices didn't like me at all. Even more saddening was the fact that one of them used to be my friend, back when I was small. They teased me endlessly about the kit whose father hates her, leaving me out on just about everything. Only one apprentice ever stood up for me, and that was it. All the others despised me. I thought it was as bad as it could get.

Unfortunately, life was not done yet cursing me.

When I finally became a warrior, me and that other apprentice, Eagletalon, became mates. How is that bad, you may ask? Well, only after a single moon of being engaged, he lost interest in me and began looking for another cat. That broke my heart more than anything else that has ever happened to me. Meanwhile, the current leader died, and my father became leader. That was anything but honorable for me. After only the first day, he exiled me from the clan forever. I was driven mad with rage. I had never known true love, and I didn't even hesitate to leave the camp and begin life as a rogue.

My heart became twisted and cold, caring for none but me, sometimes, not even, attempting suicide more than once. I lived like that for moons, hunting for myself, doing nothing but for myself. But then one day, I woke up in cold sweat. I had a dream, I knew it, and it was filled with… well, blood. Velvet red, just like my warrior name, Velvetblood. And in the background, the omnivous laughter of everyone that has ever laughed at me, taunted me, jeered at me. In the small part of my mind that still had sense, I knew that it was stupid beyond reason, but I could not hold it off any longer. The storm was rising…

I running like I had never ran before to the camp in which I used to live. It was still early morning, which meant that everyone was still asleep, a slight advantage for me. Creeping across the floor, I made it all the way across the clearing without being seen, around the fresh-kill pile, past the dens, to the place where my father, the leader, dwelled. I snarled, put my weight onto my front, and began pouncing onto him, scratching and biting without remorse. He tried to defend himself, but he was groggy from sleep and tired. A quick blow to the throat finished him off. I smiled with satisfaction, and quickly headed out of the den. I expected the rest of the clan would be very surprised later.

But what I did not expect was a whole patrol of cats out front, ready for me and snarling. They must have heard the commotion. Common sense pleaded for me to run, but the feelings were too much. It was ten against one, one of me, me, being an idiot. I don't know or care how many cats I've killed or injured: I just kept slashing, fighting, biting, right until the end.

Needless to say, Starclan rejected me, and I was sent to the Dark Forest. But I have changed, and from then on, I did nothing but just sit in a corner all by myself, and wait to Starclan to send me with them. I have heard rumors that my father ended up with them, but when I am no longer rejected, I'm sure we will make up. But for right now, I can do nothing but wait, not eating, drinking, or sleeping, just waiting until the day that someone will finally want me. And I will do it and keep doing it, even as I fade away from the most distant memories.

Waiting.

Still waiting.