~From the moment he tumbled into the world, everyone hated Brokenkit. He was named Brokenkit when Blackbur, his father, died just before his birth and his two littermates were stillborn. His Heatherfoot, his mother, was broken-hearted by her tragedy, so she named him Brokenkit as a reminder of her pain. She was found dead in the nursery the next morning. Every cat blamed Brokenkit for her death, he even believed them sometimes. Heatherfoot had been a wonderful cat until she knew she was bearing kits. When she found out, she whined, made Blackbur fetch her food, and moved into the nursery before her belly had stretched larger than a mouse. Everyone thought that the change must have been because of the pain he had caused her while he grew, so he was to blame for her unpleasantness. They found ways to blame him for everything that went wrong in the clan.~
The kit tumbled and fell. The cats around him paid no attention, not caring if he was ok. He wailed quietly. A queen padded out of the nursery. "Oh Starclan, where is he now," she growled. He tried to hide from her, but she spotted him near a bramble bush. The queen dashed up to him and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. She took him back to the nursery, scolding through his fur. "Why do you have to run away so much? Honestly, you would be much more likable if you were obedient." She dropped him on the ground next to his another queen. "Thank you, Frostshard," she said to the first queen. Frostshard smiled nastily. "Not a problem, Startlingscreech, you deserve someone to take care of you." Frostshard excused herself, saying she was going to go and fetch some fresh kill. As soon as she was gone, Startlingscreech hissed at the poor kit. "I took you in, I suckled you when no one else would, I SAVED YOUR LIFE BROKENKIT! Is this how you repay a hero? I should have left you in the stream. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your least you could do is be nice! You have to stay in the nursery. Half-clan scum!" She continued to berate him until Frostshard returned. Brokenkit cowered in the corner, wishing he was anywhere but in the Thornclan nursery, with the two cats he hated most. Startlingscreech looked at him with distaste. "If you're hungry, you can go and get yourself some food." He blinked. "But you said I had to stay in the nursery," he said, confused. "Not my problem if you starve to death," she said, a murderous gleam in her eyes.
Brokenkit went up to the fallen oak, ready for his apprentice ceremony. There were no queens fussing over him, they didn't care about him. His fur was ragged and ungroomed. "He only gets his ceremony because it's a rule, he'll have his apprentice name for many moons yet." he heard a cat mutter. Severedstar called him forward. He gave Brokenkit a short ceremony and asked Startlingscreech to be his mentor. As if Brokenkit didn't see her enough! She glared at him. "Don't you dare be disrespectful," she snarled.
Brokenpaw padded around the edge of the camp, sneaking to the fresh kill pile. He snuck a tiny thrush, not wanting to get caught. He ate it quickly and padded back into the apprentice den. Three moons of apprenticeship had passed, and Brokenpaw only liked Startlingscreech less and less. She never taught him any fighting moves or showed him how to hunt. She just told him to hunt for something, and what he caught he could eat. He barely ever got near a worthwhile piece of prey because he didn't know how to crouch properly. Startlingscreech would tell him to do a fighting move and then she and the other mentors and apprentices would laugh as he failed.
At moon high, rogues raided the camp and stole all Thornclan's fresh kill. Brokenpaw was blamed because of his weak fighting skills. During one leaf bare, the clan was hungry and several cats starved. They blamed Brokenpaw because he didn't catch any prey. Once a kit got stolen by a badger. Brokenpaw didn't protect it.
After four torturous moons, Brokenpaw was on the verge of collapse. Brokenpaw watched as his mentor chomped on a plump, juicy rabbit, waiting for him to amuse her with his failures. Somewhere, deep inside him, something snapped. His emotions exploded. He grinned, a homicidal gleam in his eyes. It was time for him to be amused. He stalked towards his first torturer. Brokenpaw swiped, tearing out her throat. She screeched, startled by the attack. Startlingscreech would no more. Frostshard widened her eyes. "When did you learn to do that?" she yowled, as he dragged his claws across her side. "When you broke my soul into a thousand shards." he murmured. Severedstar glared at him. "We did nothing to deserve this!" he snarled. Brokenpaw ended his life with a flurry of sharp claws.
Half of Thornclan is dead. How could I do something like this? All the kits... now parentless kits. Brokenpaw stumbled through the mass of bodies and blood. He killed so many cats... Brokenshard, Brokenshard, what have you done? He accepted his new name from Starclan and began to run. Run , Brokenshard, run, run, run. You will be punished for what you have done.He ran from his crime, but could escape his punishment?