Worthless
I knew I was different. From the days when I was just a kit it became only too painfully obvious not to notice. The look in their eyes, all their eyes, told me that I wasn't like the rest of them, that I didn't belong in the Clan. I wasn't wanted in the Clan. I knew I was different…but I didn't know why.
"Take that!"
"Too slow, badger paws!"
"Get back here and fight like a warrior, you foxheart!"
Redkit sat watching near the outskirts of the nursery as the other kits played. Their jubilant cries and taunts intermixed together as they pounced and tussled together, each attempting to usurp the other from power in their imaginary struggle for leader.
The objective of the game was simple: the cat that could stay in control of the mossball the longest would be bestowed claim to the title of leader of their group.
At the moment Sagekit was currently in possession of the mossball, a fairly large for his age russet furred tom that knew just how to use his size and weight advantage to bully the other kits. Redkit should know. He happened to be one of Sagekit's earliest forms of practice in discovering that he could use his body to physically dominant those smaller than him. And it appeared that today was no exception, with Sagekit easily being able to keep the others at bay by roughly shoving them to ground when they drew close.
There didn't appear to be much chance of the others taking the mossball from him, as far as Redkit figured. They were making the mistake of only trying full frontal attempts at him one at a time. Sagekit would never be beaten that way. If they wouldn't work together, then their only hope for success would have to be someone with the quick initiative to sneak up on him where he was least expecting it.
As though Redkit's thoughts had manifested themselves into reality, that rare insight of intuitiveness chose that same moment to take form.
Unbeknownst to Sagekit and the others, one kit had decided to take a different route to fighting, having slowly prowled her way around the edge of their skirmish, legs bunched tightly together, ready to spring as she lay in wait for an opportune opening to strike. The rays from the overhead sun were feverishly flaring, flashing the hollow in a glow of orange and yellow gradience that highlighted the many different textures and colors of her tortoiseshell fur.
Her sights were trained ahead, focused intently on the back of Sagekit's rather large head as she slunk closer. Sagekit was now laughing out loud at the other kits inability to dispatch him, completely oblivious to the presence of the slender she-cat stalking behind him. For a split second her gaze broke away from Sagekit, drifting over to the edge of the nursery where Redkit solely resided. Honey yellow made contact with dull brown.
They held each other gazes, one appearing amicable and curious while the other seemed hesitant and unsure. Overcome with a rush of embarrassment that he didn't know originated from, Redpaw began to turn away, unsettled by the open look the she-cat was giving when he noticed a light smile find its way onto her face, followed behind by a playful wink.
That was one of the first times in my life where another cat actually looked at me with something different from loathing in their eyes. It was something I wasn't accustoming to experiencing, and the sight of that innocent stare made my skin crawl uncomfortably. Though we would look at each other quite differently later on, I can't forget this moment in time that we shared together.
Before he had any time to register what'd just happened, the tortoiseshell kit shot off in a spray of gravel. Redkit followed her path across the hollow as she slid in right before Sagekit, nipping at his heels to avert his attention before sliding directly underneath him and dislodging the mossball from his paws and into her mouth in one fell swoop of movement.
The instant the transfer of ownership of the mossball occurred the other kits wasted no time in making the she-cat their new target, following closely behind in her wake.
"Hey!" Sagekit bellowed in outrage, realizing a bit too late that the tortoiseshell cat had made off with his prize. "Get back here, Hollykit," he called, breaking off into a run after everyone. "That's mine!"
Their laughs and cries of play drifted off into the other side of the hollow, leaving Redkit alone to stew in his own pot of melancholy. It was a simple game by anyone's standards to be sure, and not something for someone to lose any sleep over, but one that he would have gladly given anything to be a part of right now. Redkit longed to join them, share in on their state of merriment, but somehow he knew his presence wouldn't be very well received.
Isolation wasn't a new concept to him. Neither was loneliness for that matter. He'd spent the majority of his kithood so far being relegated to do much of nothing else, but watch the other kits play and older cats go about their business.
It wasn't so much the kits themselves that were against Redkit joining in on their fun, though he encountered that same problem now; the issue lay more with their parents, and for that matter, a large part of the Clan.
Although the circumstances were a bit foggy, Redkit's own mother had died a moon after her only kits birth, leaving him parentless. She'd been fairly sickly up until that point, but there was no indication to show that she'd just drop dead the way in which Redkit had woken to find her that fateful morning.
From that point on, still too young to be on his own, Redkit was tossed around the nursery like a piece of prey between queens, all of which who flat out refused to adopt or take him in before being robustly order by the Clan leader, Crowstar who, to appease the queens, set up a system where Redkit would be swapped from queen to queen at the end of every full moon cycle. This compromise was enough to get the queens to agree, but if they had to take him in he was always forced by them to sleep as furthest away from them and their kits as possible.
It was around this time that I started to detect this flare of animosity coming from several other cats within the Clan. I didn't know what had caused it, what it was that I'd done to upset them all so, but all I knew for sure was that I would've done anything in my power during those times to fix it. I just wanted them to accept me.
The rest of the Clan treated him in a similar fashion, cats avoiding him as if he carried a disease, with the elders going as far as to bar him from their den without reason when he just wanted to share in hearing the tales that they told the other kits in such finesse detail. Why couldn't he join in and have the same privileges as the other kits? Why would none of the warriors ever meet his eyes when he spoke to them? What had Redkit done wrong?
He wasn't sure why. Not even now after nearly five moons had passed. He may have been use to the notion of seclusion but it still didn't numb the feeling of sadness that sat tight in his chest, aching like an insect burrowing its way inside and then deciding to make its home there. In a Clan where it seemed like everyone avoided him, there was no way to escape it.
Redkit had one last hope to win them over though. It was something that he had fantasized over and envisioned for the last five moons. When he finally became an apprentice everything would change. Just wait and see.
He was going to do everything physically possible to sway whatever negative perception that Clan had of him. Redkit was going to prove to them that he was a helpful, necessary contribution to the entire inner workings of the Clan.
That's all he wanted. In the depths of his determined mind, Redkit truly believed that it was possible. He just wanted to prove to them that he wasn't worthless.
And I had meant it. I just wanted to prove to them all that I was more than what they saw. Unfortunately for me, however, I didn't know the circumstances to why the Clan behaved the way that they did around me. If I'd known at that time what they did, then it probably would've prepared me better for the disastrous outcome of how my apprentice ceremony panned out.