This may not be my best piece of fanfiction ever, but I needed to write something else to get over a writer`s block with my novella I`m working on. This is my take on Mistoffelees' childhood from his point of view about living with his uncle Bustopher Jones on St. James Street. I`ve wanted to write it for a while now, and it just sort of came to me because of my writer`s block. Please read and review!

Of Magic and Rice Pudding

I was orphaned, quite tragically, as a kitten.

My mother, for the short period I knew her, wasn`t negligent of either me or my sister, Victoria. We were loved by her, and like any mother, she guarded us with all she had, kept us close to her, even when she was deteriorating and growing weaker. She had been a young queen who got pregnant with my sister and I when she was hardly out of kittenhood. Nobody really knew who the father was, too. It was unexpected, but she welcomed us with all the love a mother could give.

To this very day, we still don`t know why she passed on. From what my uncle tells me, she had been very sickly and weak since she was a kitten. One could say that it was the litter of kittens she bore that resulted into her untimely passing, and now with my age I think that`s what did it. But, I still don`t like to think that it was my sister and I that killed her.

I don`t even know what she looked like. We were still in the period of life when our eyes were shut and we were blind. We couldn`t hear, either. All I can remember is her scent. That is perhaps my earliest memory of all- the smell of the nest of thick blankets in our den mixed with my mother`s and my sister`s, of the first couple days of my life.

We were orphaned at nearly one and a half weeks old, not exactly newborn kittens, but still really new to this world. We were born, however, into the Jellicle tribe and a number of the queens would have been happy to take in two kittens to raise as their own. But instead of being raised by a junkyard queen, my sister and I were raised by my uncle on St. James Street.

My uncle, his name being Bustopher Jones, was my mother`s older and only brother. From what he has told me, my mother looked very much like him- a tuxedo cat. Although, from what he said, she had a bit more of white coloring on her than he does, which explains my sister being completely white.

My uncle, as a result from living with wealthy humans, is an extremely robust cat. He spent a lot of time at various clubs on St. James Street and around London. He liked to bring treats home from us, of course. I remember fondly that he would bring home containers of rice pudding from The Tomb. Mainly, he would bring rice pudding because we were so young and had just been weaned from milk and just starting to eat soft food. To this day it has remained my favorite treat, even if I am not a kitten anymore.

Bustopher had a mate who lived in the same human home as he did and her name was Christine. He and Christine had a kitten of their own, Alonzo, who was older than us. Having my mother pass away was a certainly unexpected turn in their lives that was for certain. But, thankfully, they gratefully took my sister and I in and welcomed them into their human-home on St. James Street. The humans didn`t seem to mind about two more cats; they were devoted cat-people. They liked to spoil their pets by giving them lavish toys and food and they always liked to tie bows onto my aunt and sister`s fur and give them beautiful collars to wear.

My sister had been given the name Victoria by our mother before she passed on and I was Mistoffelees. Of course, the human-girl of the St. James Street liked to call us "Wendy and Peter" as she loved the tales of Peter Pan. When I learned to hear, she would call out to me and with my newly-found walking skills; I would stumble over to her. That time, of course, was when we found out my sister was deaf.

The human-girl, Tiffany as her name was, would call out Victoria`s name, yell it practically. My sister would sit there, her head crocked, as if she didn`t know what to do or what this human s was so frantically worried. Tiffany was so scared about my sister`s health when she found out, and because of the concern, she instantly took Victoria under her sympathy, almost as if the kitten was like a bird who could no longer fly, and my sister became her favorite kitten.

My uncle and aunt took pity on my sister. Bustopher would bring Victoria treats of food from his clubs, but he did the same thing for Christine would cuddle and lick Victoria, soothing her as the young kitten yelped out, frantic to understand the world around her. It frustrated her at first, but she persevered through her disability, and she has become a gifted dancer, the best I`ve ever seen. One would say she dances stronger and better than any other Jellicle cat because she cannot sing well because of her deafness.

As for me? Well, I learned that I had my own special gift from the Everlasting Cat, and that was magic. I was a Conjurer. I admit, in my kittenhood I liked to get into mischief, much to the dismay of my aunt, uncle, and cousin along with the human family. I liked to make things disappear, go into hiding places, and do all sorts of neat tricks that I thought were normal for a kitten. It wasn`t until I was older did the other cats realize that I was a magical cat.

It started when I levitated my uncle`s enormous spoon that he liked to carry around to entertain Victoria and Alonzo. When my uncle came looking for it, he was amazed to find that I was making his prized spoon float in the air without any aid! It was from then on that my aunt and uncle decided that I needed guidance with my magical abilities.

When we weren`t on St. James Street, we were at the Jellicle junkyard when my sister and were strong and old enough to make the journey from the home to the yard about half a mile away. In a sense, we knew the other cats pitied us a tiny bit for losing our mother so early in life. Especially Jennyanydots, the Gumbie cat who stood as a motherly figure to everyone in the tribe and was always dotting on any kitten, particularly those who didn`t have a direct family. She liked to watch us when we were kittens, and in a sense, she still does. She likes to look after us as she likes to look after everyone.

She was in a very similar situation herself. Her sister had left her kittens, not by death but choice to leave her family and mate, the entire tribe for that matter; therefore she was shunned by the Jellicles. Her youngest, the Rum Tum Tugger, was not terribly much older than I was. He barely got to know his mother, much like Victoria and I did. I guess that`s why he became my best friend, because we faced a similar situation. He had two older brothers, Munkustrap, who was in line to become the Jellicle Protector and Macavity, who nobody really like to speak of very much when I was in the junkyard. It wasn`t until I was a bit older did I learn that Macavity had turned on his Jellicle brethren and gone crazy with the power he had from his own magic.

Jennyanydots, being the three brothers' aunt, took them to raise them. They had a father, the Jellicle Leader, Deuteronomy, but he was often very busy and couldn`t always be there for his children, so Jenny went to their rescue and looked after them when their father couldn`t. The Gumbie Cat had her paws full already with the double trouble duo Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. But still, she liked to take responsibility for watching over her nephews along with every other kitten in the `yard.

I liked to play with the other kittens my age, especially Tugger, but most of my time in the junkyard was spent with Tantomile and Coricopat, the physic twins. They were not magical in the sense of magic Macavity and I was, but they were mystic and knew how I could get a reign on my magical abilities and how to use them for good instead of evil. They told me that was what went wrong with Macavity. He had gotten a hold on his magic, but he became ruthless, bitter and used them for his own evil purposes. With their guidance, I soon learned how to use my magic and how to perform bigger, better, more complicated tricks.

We lived a comfortable life from then on out. My sister would dance, I would perform magic, and my uncle would go to his clubs. We were well-fed and well loved by our humans, and I `m so thankful that I had good families- both human and feline. Time flew by and soon my sister and I were no longer regarded as kittens when we allowed to our first Jellicle Ball. By then, Alonzo had grown up and became the Jellicle Guardian, the third in command behind Munkustrap as the Jellicle Protector and Old Deuteronomy as the Jellicle Leader.

My kittenhood, though it started out so bleak from my harsh beginning and with the stress of dealing with my sister`s deafness, soon became a time I look back on smiling. It is now I fondly remember the time of magic and rice pudding.