LIGHTFOOT SPEAKS:
What It Feels Like To Lose A Friend
When I lost Darkpaw, it was horrible. He often placed his paws wrong, and always got shouted at by the warriors. I always screamed at him too. Now I wish I didn't scream at him do much, and played with him more, and understood the frustration he was under at being unable to communicate properly.
You see, Darkpaw is mentally disabled. He also always took things the wrong way, but he is very lovable. I preferred to talk to warriors, because at least they replied intelligently, which is much more than I can say for Darkpaw.
Maybe I should start from the beginning.
Before we were born, a strange, mysterious disease struck the queens and caused them to lose their kits. The disease went as fast as it came, and only two of the queens were able to give birth. My mother and Darkpaw's mother.
Darkkit was almost a complete kit, with proper memory and good concentration. But the disease stripped him of both.
Darkkit and I were best friends. We played with balls of moss that we stole from a queen's nest, as it was the only thing that our mothers would allow us to play with.
At first, his mentality wasn't obvious. He had the natural curiousity that all kits had, and the habit of getting under each warrior's paws.
Moons passed, and we both became apprentices. Then the disease was strikingly clear in everyone's eyes, although they didn't know why was he acting that way.
The Clan Leader was my mentor. The most wayward warrior was Darkpaw's. Yet no matter how much I boasted to Darkpaw, he just smiled and asked, "Can we play?"
I thought he wasn't listening and smacked him over the head with my paw. He just smiled, sat up again, and asked if we could play again.
It wasn't until the new medicine cat apprentice, Rainpaw, watched him and set him through tests before announcing that Darkpaw had a mental disorder that stuck him in the stage of a kit.
It didn't make him any less annoying though. Day after day, he interrupted my conversations with many warriors, repeatedly asking if we could play.
One day, he ran out of camp to hunt, and didn't return that night. The dawn patrol found him and took him back to camp. His lifeless body was mangled to shreds and his usual playful yet blurred gaze was replaced with a foggy misty blue.
I crawled over to him.
"Darkpaw?" I asked brokenly. "Darkpaw, we can play now... wake up..."
No response. Not even a twitch.
"Darkpaw... Let's play..." I repeated. "I won't yell at you again..."
Still no response. I let out a wail and pushed my muzzle into his bloody, matted fur. I knew that I couldn't play with him again until I died and went to StarClan.
I smile now, because now I stand in front of a badger three times the size of me while I was alone. It prepared to spring at me.
"Darkpaw... Maybe we can play again now. It might be too late and you might now hate me for ignoring you... but we can still play... right?"
It sprang.
"I would choose to look as an apprentice when I go to StarClan, because then I can play like you like we used to."
It clawed madly, and I put up no resistance.
"I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm sorry for thinking you were a nuisance. I'm sorry for thinking you were annoying..."
The badger clawed deeper at my chest. I knew I was going to die.
"But most of all..."
It reached my heart.
"I'm sorry for not playing with you."
And I was dead in a heartbeat.
So what does it feel like to lose a friend?
It's the loneliest feeling in the world.
Ta-dah, the rewritten and revised version!
