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Post by Pistachio Brokendaze on May 17, 2009 12:08:25 GMT -5
 I had a good life.
It was a nice life, even from the start. No problems or anything. A relatively easy birth. Two wonderful parents as my guardians, two wonderful sisters as my accomplices. A nice home in the hills, where prey was plentiful and life was easy. Life was always easy at that time, before life was filled with complications and problems.
I still remember my first home, the hillside cave that I was born in. Quaint, cozy, warm. It was where I first learned to walk, to speak, to hunt. There was also where I last saw my family together, before the capture. The dreaded capture that took my whole life away from me without any choice or consent.
Where did life go wrong?
Why did it have to go wrong? I would have been happy if life had continued on as normal, without interruption. Without the humans. And definitely without the feeling of loss deep down in my heart.
Was it my fault? Was that why the world had taken everything I loved away from me? Perhaps so- maybe the gods above wanted some amusement in their life. But why me? Why not those who abused their mates? Those who killed for a living? The liars, the betrayers, the heartbreakers? But they had to pick on the newborn kitten.
How pathetic.
You'd think that the spirits above would at least have some sense on who they punished. After all, they were the gods of these worlds, the masterminds, the creators. Without them there'd be no Earth for us to walk on, to food to eat, no water to drink. No existence, actually. At least, that's what I think.
But maybe it was because of another reason? Maybe I was evil, detrimental to society in some way? Who knows, I could be the cause of some major war in years to come. Me, of all people. After all, I'm just so big, scary, powerful... I forgot how hard it is to tell sarcasm in writing.
Others would always laugh when I mentioned my beliefs of the capture. Of course they would, seeing as all they saw was a small bundle of fluff, a cute little newborn. My brain was under-developed, not seeing the world as clearly as it should. I know nothing in comparison to them. "Where are your parents?" They would ask me, amusement glittering in their eyes.
I'd just look up and say to them "They were taken. I escaped." My eyes would glitter seriously, accenting how serious this was. I didn't care if I seemed blunt, but I needed to get my point across. Beating around the bush wasn't going to do anything.
This just brought on another round of laughs, seeing as they that the kit was just trying to be brave. He's obviously just lost, away from his mother, they'd think. I'd get a passive wave and be left alone once more.
I've probably seen more and know more than any other cat here. Starvation, death, betrayal- these are all part of my life on the streets.
I started to doubt that my life was worth living; without my family, what was I? Just another cat without any care in the world. No one took me seriously.
No one wants to listen to the little kit suffering in such a big world.
Almost.
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Post by Pistachio Brokendaze on May 17, 2009 12:08:47 GMT -5
 August fifth.
That was the day that I was brought into the world. A warm summer day, with only a slight breeze. Thankfully nothing too eerie. Maybe it was because of all the good luck at the start of my life that it turned for the worse.
I don't remember much about that first day. Then again, does anyone remember much about it? Just the feeling of warmth and security coming from my mother's body. I was the second born, Minny before me. Her size was about the same as mine, even though I wasn't too much aware of it at the time.
Then there was Pecan. She was tiny; the runt of the litter. Even without seeing her I knew this- how her amount of heat was less, how if I was not careful I could wiggle right on top of her, squishing her. We had to be observant and careful around her; we still need to today.
Some things never change.
Then Rowan came in. My father was amazing; proud, strong, intelligent. When he entered, the atmosphere changed. Everything was happy, especially the extatic aura that bounced of the tom.
I liked the feeling of the happiness around me, assuring me that everything was alright. Like a warm piece of prey on a cold chilly day, it made you feel a lot better.
Voices overhead, though I was not too sure what they were saying. Maybe it was names, perhaps comments about us. A little nudge by a paw and we were enjoying the warm and nutrient-filled milk of our mother. It was life-giving and nourishing food at the time, when our stomachs were not ready for the wholesome meats of the outside.
It was a happy day.
Time passed, and with it came growth. I was now three months old, able to run around, play and communicate. And at that age, that's all that really mattered. Pecan and Cinammon were fun to play with. Espcially Minny, seeing as her exuberant personality was enough for all three of us combined.
It was November now, and the days slowly grew shorter. I started to noticed that it was now dark out earlier, therefore (much to my dismay) decreasing the amount of playtime that I had. There was a new air around our home- mother and father worked hard to catch food, storing some for later. I asked her about it, why we were saving up.
She pulled me in with her long tail, allowing me to bundle and enjoy the warmth of her soft fur. Her violet eyes looked out, out towards the exit of their small hillside home. I spotted my two sisters practicing hunting skills with my dad; my paws itched to get outside, instead of listening to some old story.
"It's November now, Pistachio. The weather's getting colder out, do you notice?" She asked, in which I nodded, by attention now directly to her. "Winter is almost here, when white snow will fall from the sky. Although it is indeed very pretty, you must remember to stay warm and dry during those times. Food will be hard to find and many cats don't survive the cold."
The thoughts made me uneasy- would any of my family not survive this weather? But my mother chuckled lightly when I asked, saying how we could survive as long as we stuck together.
"As long as we were able to stay together, we should be just fine. Now run along and learn some hunting from your father." She smiled and I scurried on my way without any other care in the world. In one ear and out the other were those words.
It would have been better if we had stayed together. Then again, I wouldn't know as much had this not happened.
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