I don't really remember much about when I was a kit. What I do remember are memories I try my best to forget. My earliest memory is being cared for by housefolk, a twoleg man. I remember wearing something around my neck, but that didn't stay there long. I had to witness my housefolk rip it off out of anger, nearly choking me in the process. The pain was too much, and I ran outside, far away. I didn't even look back to see his reaction.
After that, I had a dream that kept happening over and over. It was a young kit being taken from their parents. The father was living, but I couldn't see if the mother was dead or alive. The kit was picked up by a twoleg, crying for their parents. Every time I woke up in tears, stunned and unable to feel happiness. I could only feel loneliness and pain. It took me some time to realize that I was the kit in the dream.
Once I figured it out, I wanted to go back to my old housefolk. But I knew that I couldn't go back. I wanted to find some new housefolk, or live in the wild. But I couldn't even hunt, and who would want to care for me, after looking at my dirty pelt? I was only seven moons old, but I felt like I had no other options left.
But then, I met another cat who offered me a place to stay. He told me that he used to be a kittypet too. But he was too fierce with his housefolk and other twolegs that some strange twolegs decided to try and take him to another place far from his old housefolk. He managed to escape, and had been living as a rogue ever since. The two of us were happy together, teaching me to hunt and defending myself against other cats. When I told him that I was expecting our kits, he was fine about it. He couldn't wait to be a father.
Both of us were still in love with each other when I gave birth to my three kits. I don't remember their names. I only remember that at first, he was okay with being the father. But then, he wanted to have them at his home instead of with me. I couldn't let him take them away from me, so I ended our relationship and took the kits with me. I wandered far away from him, and protected those kits during that storm. Thinking they had died, I became a kittypet again. But this time, my housefolk were ones that were kind to me, never once trying to rip the pink collar they had given me off of my neck.
Once I became a kittypet, another cat named Tigerstripe comforted me when I was dealing with the loss of the kits that I thought had died. Like my new housefolk, he wasn't like Thorntooth at all. He was a tom who really does care about me, and would never try to hurt me. Thorntooth still hasn't changed. He found another she-cat that likes him a lot. She used to be a kittypet like me. I hope she heeds my warning about him. He has tried to take those kits from me before, and it's only a matter of time before he tries again.