Nightcloud didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve to have a mate who did not love her. She didn't deserve to have a kit that was neglected by his father. She had done nothing wrong, so why had her life turned out like this? All she had done was love Crowfeather.

Nightcloud pondered over her fate as she walked through the rolling hills, her heart heavy. When she was but a kit, all she had desired was to have a loving mate and precious kits. She had grown up with this dream. She had believed that Crowfeather was the one.

She had been thrilled when Crowfeather asked her if she would be his mate. She had been blind to the real purpose of their relationship: For him to prove himself loyal to WindClan. For the first few moons, she had not known his true intention.

It was in mid-pregnancy when the harsh truth came crashing down. He did not love her in the slightest. He snapped at her, ignored her, and abused her verbally. Crowfeather was not the one for Nightcloud.

But her feelings towards him never ceased to exist. She tried her best to sway his feelings, make him love her. But it had never worked. She gave birth to his kit, and she looked deeply into his blue eyes. But no love was found in that icy gaze.

Nightcloud came to a stop as she stood upon a tall hill. Thinking of her mistakes, she lay down on the soft grass, and began to sob. She had not cried in forever, not since she was small. But the tears and emotions came gushing out of her, and she finally got up.

She couldn't take it any longer. She couldn't bring herself to go back to camp and snuggle beside her pretend lover. She silently padded towards RiverClan, her mind made up. Each breath she took was torture to her now, knowing that she was unloved. That her life had been horrible.

She stopped at the bank of an icy river, and she peered at her reflection. She looked a mess. She stepped one paw into the water, and her body begged her to turn back. But her mind was made up. She slid into the depths of the river and sank to the river floor, not even fighting against the rough current.

For the first time in a long time, a genuine, happy smile marked her maw as her lungs ran out of air.

I'm free.