She promised, didn't she? She promised we would be friends forever, always helping each other, always there for one another.

But she broke her promise. My only friend broke her promise, and with it, she broke my heart. I loved her so dearly. She was the only thing I had. And she left me. I'm alone. Utterly alone.

I was Fadedheart of RiverClan, the Clan that craves all things beautiful. According to my parents, I wasn't supposed to be born. Huh. And the other kits were.

I'll not waste your time with my full backstory, just a summary, but if you're here than you're obviously interested in what happens to me.

Or more likely the other cats- the ones with tragic, heart-breaking tales of lost loved ones.

At least they had loved ones.

My mother loved me, but she didn't want to. She didn't want me. My father, on the other paw, blatantly hated me. From the first time he saw me, he hated me. Maybe it was because of my odd, dull gray eyes. Maybe it was because I was one solid color all over- gray. Ugly, dull, gray.

Or maybe it was because I was the only one out of my litter to survive the first leaf-bare. Me, of course. It had to be me- the ugly duckling.

The others were pretty- beautiful, even. Classically named, Goldkit was a golden tabby she-cat with amber eyes, Dawnkit had green eyes with a cream underbelly and a faded red-pink back, while Streamkit was a silvery-blue with black tabby stripes and gorgeous deep blue eyes.

Then there was me. Fadedkit. Not black nor white, but gray all over.

Ahem, just like my father.

The hypocrite.

But, as I said before, this is not about my backstory- it is about our story. About me and her.

I grew, along with my the Clan's hatred, disdain, and/or pity, to hate them. I learned to cut myself off from the world. Ignore the taunts, the jeers, for something I couldn't help. I knew very well I couldn't help it, and at first blamed my parents.

That got me nowhere, so I decided to blame StarClan.

I still do, but there was a time when I almost didn't.

She ruined that slim chance.

"Fadedpaw?" She asked, in that concerned way she always talked to me. "Are you okay?"

No, I want to say. I'm not okay. I'm never okay. How can I be when everyone treats me like I'm a worthless piece of prey to be tossed about?

But how could I say that? She's the only one who cares about me. My only friend.

"I'm fine," I hear myself mew.

I'm not, I hear myself think.

"Silverpaw?" I ask.

"Yes?" She replies, waiting.

"We'll be friends forever, right?"

"Of course!" She responds warmly.

"Promise?" I had to be sure.

"Promise." She responds, yawning.

We fall asleep easily in the apprentices den, before the other apprentices can taunt me, and I'm conforted. At least I knew I would always have one friend, if nothing else.

Seasons later, we were Silverstream and Fadedheart. She broke her promise. She left me- left me for the big gray ThunderClan tabby. I didn't really care, then- we were still best friends- but she started getting obsessed with him. One night, after a visit with him, she told me she had great news- she was expecting kits!

I was so happy for her, but I was also jealous. Why had she found a mate so easily? Why should she get a happy life when I shouldn't?

The answer was obvious. In RiverClan, it wasn't brawn over brain- it was beauty over brain.

Soon after she found she was expecting kits, she abandoned me. I thought we were still friends, but she asked me to leave her alone.

My hurt soon turned to anger, and in turn turned to a lust for revenge.

I watched the medicine cat for a while and learned something vital.

I snuck into the herb store and stole a plant- and dusted though it was, it smelled like frost.

I gave it to her, because apparently "I had a headache, so I went to the medicine den and was requested to bring this herb to you. It's supposed to help your milk come or something."

Later that day, she went to visit her mate across the river.

She never came back, but her kits did, and her mate.

That backfired.

He eventually got over her, and found a new mate. Had more kits.

I watched as his first daughter saved a faraway group of cats- unlike most dead cats could, because when no one noticed you in life, they don't notice you in death either. And that makes it so much easier to sneak away.

I wished so much I had not killed her, but her kits instead.

When I died, I changed my name.

You wouldn't know me, though, because I soon lived up to my namesake.

I am forsaken.

I am forgotten.

I am faded.