Post by Quick Fox on Jul 3, 2009 17:38:38 GMT -5
Kitty: Cloudpaw the R/e/l/i/e/v/e/d
Words: 619
Notes: What is my purpose now?
Words: 619
Notes: What is my purpose now?
Cloudpaw sat on the half-bridge, doing nothing, but trying to process what seemed to be a million different thoughts at once.
What is my purpose now, what do I do? He wondered. He had felt as if his purpose was to kill Crueleye, or die trying. I would have died trying, anyways, he thought. He knew that, knew that he had not the power to kill Crueleye.
When he had heard that Crueleye was dead, two emotions swept through him. Relief that he was dead, that he would no longer have to fear him coming in the night. And jealousy. He knew that most cat's would feel only relief, but not him. He had, more than anything, wanted to be the one to kill Crueleye. To feel his claws scratch at the flesh. To see Crueleye die.
Or die trying.
He sat on the half-bridge, watching the gentle waves roll, and the clouds float by. He knew that he would have to get back soon, before someone noticed that he had been gone longer than it took for him to gather some horsetail.
Truly, he felt as if he had no purpose. He did not want to die, but he felt as if his life had dulled, as if his soul had lost it's brightness. And as if darkness had settled in.
He wondered what it would feel like, to die. And then the thought occurred to him. What if he did die? What would the can do without him?
I am not necessary, he thought. I am a mere outsider, and my clan does not need me that much. No one will care that much if I die. I have no purpose in life.
That was when he decided it. That he was going to end his life right then and there. He didn't need revenge on Fireclan that badly. He would jump into the lake, and simply not come up for air. He would drown.
He jumped, the few seconds it took seemed like an eternity. He hit the lake with a splash, sending spray of water into the air. It took less than twenty seconds for his lungs to need air, but he refused to give in.
His lungs burned with such great intensity that he almost gave in. Seconds seemed like hours, and his vision blurred. That moment, when he needed it the most, as he began to suck in water, was when he realized it. That someone, somewhere, might need him someday. And that he couldn't die just yet.
With lightning speed, he raged toward the surface. He gulped in air, burning his lungs yet finally soothing their need. For a few minutes, he just did that, before fishing himself out. He coughed, trying to cough up as much water as he could.
As he laid there, actually happy to be alive for once in quite a while, he decided what he would do. He would simply say that he fell in the water while trying to get some horsetail. And that was that.
He still felt no relief from the feeling of emptiness in his heart, he still had no place. But what he did have was motive for life. He wanted to live to get revenge on Fireclan, and help his clan. He felt that it was the least he could do.
As he prepared to get back to camp, he hoped that there was a reason that he had chosen not to kill himself. He thought, Maybe, just maybe, I do have a purpose in life. I just have yet to find it.
What is my purpose now, what do I do? He wondered. He had felt as if his purpose was to kill Crueleye, or die trying. I would have died trying, anyways, he thought. He knew that, knew that he had not the power to kill Crueleye.
When he had heard that Crueleye was dead, two emotions swept through him. Relief that he was dead, that he would no longer have to fear him coming in the night. And jealousy. He knew that most cat's would feel only relief, but not him. He had, more than anything, wanted to be the one to kill Crueleye. To feel his claws scratch at the flesh. To see Crueleye die.
Or die trying.
He sat on the half-bridge, watching the gentle waves roll, and the clouds float by. He knew that he would have to get back soon, before someone noticed that he had been gone longer than it took for him to gather some horsetail.
Truly, he felt as if he had no purpose. He did not want to die, but he felt as if his life had dulled, as if his soul had lost it's brightness. And as if darkness had settled in.
He wondered what it would feel like, to die. And then the thought occurred to him. What if he did die? What would the can do without him?
I am not necessary, he thought. I am a mere outsider, and my clan does not need me that much. No one will care that much if I die. I have no purpose in life.
That was when he decided it. That he was going to end his life right then and there. He didn't need revenge on Fireclan that badly. He would jump into the lake, and simply not come up for air. He would drown.
He jumped, the few seconds it took seemed like an eternity. He hit the lake with a splash, sending spray of water into the air. It took less than twenty seconds for his lungs to need air, but he refused to give in.
His lungs burned with such great intensity that he almost gave in. Seconds seemed like hours, and his vision blurred. That moment, when he needed it the most, as he began to suck in water, was when he realized it. That someone, somewhere, might need him someday. And that he couldn't die just yet.
With lightning speed, he raged toward the surface. He gulped in air, burning his lungs yet finally soothing their need. For a few minutes, he just did that, before fishing himself out. He coughed, trying to cough up as much water as he could.
As he laid there, actually happy to be alive for once in quite a while, he decided what he would do. He would simply say that he fell in the water while trying to get some horsetail. And that was that.
He still felt no relief from the feeling of emptiness in his heart, he still had no place. But what he did have was motive for life. He wanted to live to get revenge on Fireclan, and help his clan. He felt that it was the least he could do.
As he prepared to get back to camp, he hoped that there was a reason that he had chosen not to kill himself. He thought, Maybe, just maybe, I do have a purpose in life. I just have yet to find it.