Crazy. Delusional. Strange. Foolish.
Blessed. Gifted. Talented.
All names I have been called, all names I have been bitter to sit on my shoulders. All of them false.
I was cursed.
Cursed to see the fate of each of my Clanmates, of my sister, of my kin. I saw the dead. I walked among the Stars and the Dark. Ridiculously, I was able to predict my own death, coughing up my lungs, but luckily, I missed the bitter cold that came that leafbare.
All day, every day, the fate of my Clanmates taunted to me, the fate of my Clan, the fate of others.
So young. I'd been so young. I never got to enjoy being a kit. To play or hunt or fight.
I was forced to be a medicine cat early, looking back on it. Oh, Goosekit, if only I could've warned you how bitter you'd be and how jaded you are.
Cursed. Cursed. I could see the dead. I could talk to them, but it made me look crazy. My own sister called me strange, different, scoffed at me. And I got her killed. A vision. Falsely read. Why couldn't I see? They got harder to read, harder to understand if vague. Killed. Killed. Murdered. My fault, of course.
Even some of my visions caused my Clan to suffer. It was my job to lead them to suffering. All I was supposed to do was be the rock in the storm.
How pathetic was my gift if I couldn't use it for good! All I saw was their fates.
Pinestar walking away from the Clan.
Tigerkit brutally destroying ThunderClan.
Crookedjaw becoming a great leader, shrouded by the curse of Mapleshade.
Bluekit turned Bluestar kindling the flame that saved the forest, but losing her life to the water of RiverClan.
Featherkit… my apprentice, a valuable asset in my life who put up with me.
Sunkit, cursed with only eight lives but a valuable leader.
Thistleclaw, burning in rage, covered in blood.
Spottedpaw who was twisted by love and her too kind heart.
All! All of it! Cursed. I was cursed. There was no blessing here! Cloudberry was wrong! All of them were wrong! I was cursed with the knowledge of the destruction of my Clan! Over and over, I saw them die!
How could I not be driven to irritation and anger and bitterness? It was hard enough to be a medicine cat, but to be a medicine cat cursed with words from his ancestors, from flashes of visions, from unending voices was much worse.
Featherwhisker was good to me. He was a fantastic learner and quick to retaliate when I snapped. I was glad for him in my old age. The voices got harder to manage and I only could find solace from the insanity in my mind with my eyes closed.
Ironic, considering most of the medicine cats received their visions when they slept, I only had them when I was awake. So I stayed asleep to escape the torment of seeing flashes of my Clanmates, dead, triumphant, brave.
I was just taunted, constantly, always. So tired. So anger. So bitter.
What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to function?
Oh, I thought I was StarClan blessed, saving my Clanmates, predicting the future. When my visions started to lead to death, to destruction, the voices grew in chorus. They screamed their prophecies at me, whether I was willing or not.
Fire will save the Clan.
Lion and Tiger will meet in battle.
Blood will spill blood.
A storm of blood and fire will sweep the forest.
When water meets blood, blood will rise.
The end of the stars draw near.
None of these would I ever have to understand, none of them I ever would say with my own mouth.
I was crazy. I was delusional. I was strange. I was foolish. I was brilliant. I was blessed. I was alone.
Shunned and turned away, no one guided me. Only asked for my gifts, asked for the future, asked for their fates, but always, I was strange, challenged, scoffed at. I was used for the ability given to me. And that is all.
So, I succumbed to voices. I let them make me sound crazy, let it make me bitter. I was exhausted.
When I saw my future, finally, after moons and moons of seeing my Clanmates fate, I saw my own. Blissful peace.
I drifted away before the most bitter cold and have slept soundly since.
The voices do not haunt me anymore, and the only fates I see are not screaming across my vision but discussed among other cats.
I do not understand why I was given my curse, and I am not glad that I could see the future.
I was cursed and bitter and alone.
But I am glad for my sleep and the silence that rings in my ears now that I lay among the stars.