Just so you know, the ages are in human years.
It was never something I could openly tell my brother. As close as we were, it was my secret. I was afraid to tell anyone, afraid they'd think I was mad, like my father did and treat me the same way he did.
Coricopat never heard me screaming, never saw my pain. I was kept separate from him, from anyone.
Before the voices I can remember nothing. Not a word or image from before my eighth birthday Just an empty space in my mind. I cannot remember of my father beat me then but from the moment the voices appeared everything changed.
I was a frightened kitten, sat alone in my dark room when I first heard them. It started as a quiet whisper, calling for someone and asking unanswerable questions. I tried to shut them out, covering my ears but finding it only made them louder.
Things began to change as my suffering became more noticeable. I was no longer allowed out of the den and I was cut off from everything, including my own family. The only cat who showed any feeling towards me was my twin.
As the days went on, more voices appeared, asking questions and continuing to call for people. I found it happened whenever it was quiet. The moment silence set in, the voices started. I was loosing sleep and beginning to feel ill.
One night when I thought I could bear no more, a new voice emerged. It was young and in-between each word I could hear it sob. The voices mingled and a much deeper voice dominated my mind. As it spoke I felt my blood run cold with fear. I was tense and scared so I couldn't stop screaming when the voice said my name.
My father had rushed into the room, his face fuming. I was screaming, begging for the voices to stop, my whole body trembling. He had hit me then. He slapped me hard across my face and I stared back at him, choking back my sobs.
"Be quiet! I don't want to hear any more about these voices!"
That was the first of many times my father abused me. I was a small timid kitten hearing voices in her head and he was the Jellicle protector, a role model for every cat. He couldn't have a mad daughter; it could ruin any respect the other cats had for him. He must have done something wrong for the everlasting cat to curse them like this.
What was I supposed to do? Anyone I went to for help would think I was crazy and probably take me away from my brother, which I wouldn't be able to bear. I had never spoken properly to him about my problem but he always knew when something was wrong and would always be there to comfort me.
Whenever my father saw or heard me crying about the voices, he would hit me, as if he would be able to beat the voices out of me and half of me wished he could.
I was scared. Scared to be quiet in case the voices appeared, scared to cry out in case I was beaten.
My mother tended to ignore me. I wasn't her perfect daughter. My younger sister Jemima was that and I despised her for it. I was the freak child, suitable only for having pain inflicted on her.
Even Coricopat couldn't stop it. He didn't stand up to father, he had to much power. If he said something the whole tribe would go along with it, without question, even if it was false.
One night, I remember everyday, it haunts my dreams and my father's words echo through my life.
The voices had been talking again and the crying child was tearing me apart. I was fifteen and a nervous wreck. I was scrunched tight in a ball, my paws forced hard against my ears, so hard I though my head would be crushed. Coricopat was trying to console me, his arms wrapped around my shaking form.
That was the moment my father had entered. For me he was not the protective figure all the other cats saw. He was the terrifying, abusive father who had destroyed my life. Instead of having the slightest bit of compassion or empathy, he was angry, throwing my brother away from me. He dragged me as I desperately screamed for the unconscious Coricopat, to the darkest part of the den.
Once he began hitting and kicking me the voices subsided, the physical pain overwhalming all other thoughts. My father made it clear I was not wanted. I was no use like my brother, I ws not a tom. I was not beautiful like my sister or mother, no-one would ever want to be my mate.
There was one phrase he kept repeating and it remains in my memory vividly.
"You must have done something to offend the everlasting cat. Normal cats don't hear voices in their heads"
It was only a few months later that I found out they were selling me. A deal with the supposed enemy of the tribe, the napoleon of crime. I was sick with fear. Since my imprisonment I had not been allowed out of the den and now the only chance I had was being taken away by a tom every cat had nightmares about.
That night I told Coricopat what I had heard and he promised to get me out. Sure enough the following night, while my mother was sleeping and my father was out hunting, my brother sneaked me out of the den and to freedom.
We met with one of his friends, a tall tabby who talked in an accent I had never heard before. He took me to the den he shared with his sister, chattering in his friendly tone the whole way. I stayed there for most of my freedom and was soon close to his sister.
It wasn't long before my father was out looking for me but, with the help of Coricopat and Mungojerrie, I was never found.
The voices continued and every night 'Teazer and Mungojerrie took it in turns to talk to me until I fell asleep, an idea Mungojerrie had come up with when I told him the voices quietened when I was distracted.
It wasn't long before I realised I was in love with Mungojerrie. I was unsure at first what I was feeling. I had never truly loved anyone properly before, my whole life had been ruled by fear, it was the only emotion I knew. The voices had been tormenting me and Mungo walked over, talking to me so I was distracted. He sat down in front of me, smiling as he spoke softly and soothingly. The voices quietened and my face relaxed.
Seeing this, he smiled happily and kissed me. It was only quick but I was shocked. No-one had ever shown they loved me and I had firmly believed what my father had said, that no tom would ever love me.
My father had been wrong and I showed my face for the first time since the voices had started at my first Jellicle ball, where Mungo and I confirmed our love for each other.
It was the happiest day of my life. My father could no longer control me, a new tom had entered my life, I was free and happy. Love had finally entered my life.
The voices never completely left but whenever I was with Mungo, and I rarely wasn't, they faded into the background. I had found a way to control them,
As my father said:
"Normal cats don't hear voices in their heads"
but I believe I am not normal, nor would I ever want to be if normal was what he was. As Mungojerrie said on the day of the Jellicle ball:
"You're not normal, you are special. Anyone who doesn't see that is blind."
I am Tantomile.
My father cared about what people thought of him and imprisoned and abused his own daughter.
My family ignored it, never trying to intervene and help me.
But then, they were the perfect family. I wasn't meant to mess up their lives.
This story is based loosely on a book I read. It is an amazing, true story and I would recommend it to anyone. I won't post the title on here, for fear of offending someone but I would be happy to tell anyone if they message me.
Also, please tell me who you think her parents are. I think I made it quite obvious but I still want to see if people guess it =)