I think this story needs a serious explanation. I'm obviously off my rocker, depressed, and homicidal as all get out. I wanted to give crazy Nepeta a try. I love the thought of it, and I also like the mix of her and crazy versions of other characters. If you like it: give me a comment or follow it. I'll probably update a lot because this relieves stress better than punching a wall.
My name is Nepeta Leijon and I'm 16 years old. This is my confessional journal. Someone recommended it to me for stress relief. It s33ms like a good way to vent. I hope whoever reads it has some kind of fun with it :3 I suppose I should tell you about myself for now.
I am a small t33nage girl who you'd probably never notice in the hallways of a school if I didn't have on my cosplay. I am rather small in size with fair skin and wild dark brown hair. My olive gr33n eyes are bright and I think they're a strange color. I am an avid reader of manga and an enthusiastic watcher of anime. I ship everything, some people think that's strange, and my room is covered in the ships of my friends. I used to wear a blue cat cap with ears and a matching blue tail… :3 there's a story to tell.
When I was 15 a whole lot of people hated me. :3 A whole lot of them. They would torment me daily, teasing and even sometimes they decided to use me as a punching bag. :3 I'm a very strong girl, even if I'm small and look frail, I don't bruise easily and I hardly ever cry. I sometimes started to straight out laugh at them while they shoved me to the ground and kicked me like a soccer ball. :3 The pain they gave me was nothing. They could never truly touch me.
Then one day…
The leader of their group was a faceless kind of person: the kind you don't look in the eyes because all you can see is their sharp-t33th in their mouth twisted into a mirthless smirk. I don't remember her name, not that I would use it here anyways :3 but she was finally fed up with my gl33 and wanted to shatter me entirely already: she was an impatient kind of girl. She sat behind me in a class, and one day took a pair of scissors from her bag and she cut off my tail :3 then she took my hat and snipped it up real well too. :3
My hat and tail were a nice kind of blue. The kind that's very strong, but not hard to look at. A gift. From my friend. My best friend who… who… :3 he was my best friend. He was my strength and rock and the best kind of person. I loved him very much, maybe even as more than friends. :3 enough of that.
And so. I stood up very slowly. And when I turned around I saw her t33th, sharp canines and all, curled into that perpetual smirk. Mock. Mock. Mock. :3 :3 :3. And then I saw it in her hands: the shredded sentiment, ripped remembrance, the utterly destroyed dreams. It's possible, quite possible, that something snapped inside me that day. Because I took the scissors from her… :3 but of course I didn't hurt the poor defenseless monster sitting there. I simply snapped the scissors in half and grinned at her in the most friendly way possible. It must have been my eyes, my bright and lovely olive eyes that were simply swimming with homicide, that evaporated that smirk. Oh yes, :3 my eyes are simply wonderful for scaring off prey. When I looked into the girl's eyes for the first time that day. They were filled with a proper f33ling. Fear. :3 They were painted the lovely color of fear.
I never got beaten up again :3