100 Tales 84
Trapped
Cats had joked that she would be named Redrose, after the cat who was going to be her mate.
And she hated it.
She didn't like Rosepaw; she really didn't! But he had forced her to be his mate and at least pretend to like him.
And that's what she did—pretended to like him.
But she really didn't.
The truth was that one night he had (somehow) dragged her out of the camp. He had pinned her down, his claws touching her throat, and forced her to become his (early) mate. He was a headstrong tom—absolutely nothing could faze him, it seemed!—and he threatened to kill her if she didn't do what he said. What could she do? Therefore, Redpaw was forced to become Rosepaw's mate—and she hated every minute of it.
So, she was trapped. She couldn't get out of it, yet she didn't want to be in it, either.
Trapped.
That's all I am.
Trapped.
I was easily taken.
Trapped.
The words reverberated in her mind for a little bit, and Rosepaw murmured something, and rolled over, and tried to go back to sleep; hoping the words and self-bashing would stop.
Did they?
Oh, nope, they didn't; instead, they only got worse.
Trapped…. Trapped…. Trapped…. Trapped….
Trapped.