Six Nights

Six Nights is a one-shot by Mistpaw.

Warning: Includes abuse and suicide.

Story
Cats are cruel creatures.

I should know.

They stomp and your heart, then shatter it. They befriend for part of the way, they leave you alone in the darkness.

They’re not all like that, but most are, with their hearts frozen over.

However, six cats in particular are.

The first cat is Sandbird. My mother.

She loved me as a kit, or so I thought. But as an apprentice, she criticized me, taunted me about Nightpaw being better. She ignored me around other cats, but alone would go so far as to scar me, bruise me.

“Come here, Dustpaw,” She’d say, her voice quietly menacing.

I’d come, my paws forcing me to approach the sandy she-cat.

“You little excuse for a cat,” She’d then proceed to proclaim. “You embarrassment! What was that you did in the battle today, huh? Why such a coward? Nightpaw isn’t.”

I’d shake my head wordlessly, eyes frantic. My limbs would feel paralyzed, and my breathing would grow ragged.

Then she’d laugh her creaky laugh, and draw her claws down my flank.

Blood would trickle down.

/./

Darkpaw, my sister.

I remember how she played with me as a kit, fighting and yowling happily. How we snuck out of camp.

Then as apprentices, she was eager to hunt with me. Fight beside me. Train with me. Her nest was right next to mine, and I could feel her warmth at night.

Then, when Stormkit became an apprentice, she left me for him. Acted as if I wasn’t there. Refused to share tongues with me anymore.

When the battle happened, she saved Stormpaw’s life, but for her own.

Darkpaw never even said goodbye to me.

But what is the worst is that I think of her every day, and each day I miss her more and more.

/./

Nightpaw, my brother.

The cat who had hated me instantaneously upon my birth.

From the moment I’d opened my eyes, it’d been fights non-stop with him. Fights where I ended up with thorns jabbed in my pelt and a ripped ear, or tufts of fur gone.

As an apprentice, he’d always humiliate me, yelling out to the other apprentices about secrets I had.

In battle training, it was never training with him. It was battle.

But the worst thing Nightpaw ever did to me wasn’t the hateful fights.

It was stealing all of Sandbird’s love, leaving me with nothing but myself.

Me, myself, and I to rely on.

/./

Mint, the cat who never even knew me.

But that was enough. More than enough.

You don’t need to know someone to hurt them.

Mint made one mistake.

He left me.

/./

Swiftpaw, the cat who claimed she loved me.

And I believed her.

She shared tongues with me, comforted me.

Hunted with me.

But then she saw me fight with Nightpaw.

She said it wasn’t right, that she wasn’t going to socialize with a brutal cat, who fought with his kin.

That I needed to change.

She never spoke to me again, only for patrols.

I miss her.

But I can’t change the facts.

Swiftpaw hurt me.

/./

The sixth cat hurt me most.

The sixth cat is me.

Dustpaw.

I hate myself.

Every bit.

I’m the cause of half my misery.

I’m a mistake. My destiny is being a wreck. A failure.

That’s why I have six nights.

Six nights to live, one for each cat.

/./

Night one, for Sandbird.

I settle down in the clearing, and watch as the sun slowly creeps down the horizon. And the moon rises up into the pitch-black night.

Redhawk, who’s seated near the camp exit, says nothing, but I know he’s seen me. I get to my paws, and pad over to the nursery, where I know Sandbird will be.

Sure enough, there she is, Snowkit and Dewkit curled up by her, sleeping. Sandbird isn’t her brown eyes wide like an owl’s.

“What?” She snarls, hatred flashing through her eyes for a split second.

I straighten up nervously, then meow with infinite confidence, “What would you say if I died, in, say, a few days?”

Her expression shifts, looking taken aback, then returns to the empty one. “I don’t know.”

“Would you care?”

“Maybe.”

I turn away, shadows casting over my face. She onlymNightpaw, my brother.

The cat who had hated me instantaneously upon my birth.

From the moment I’d opened my eyes, it’d been fights non-stop with him. Fights where I ended up with thorns jabbed in my pelt and a ripped ear, or tufts of fur gone.

As an apprentice, he’d always humiliate me, yelling out to the other apprentices about secrets I had.

In battle training, it was never training with him. It was battle.

But the worst thing Nightpaw ever did to me wasn’t the hateful fights.

It was stealing all of Sandbird’s love, leaving me with nothing but myself.

Me, myself, and I to rely on.

/./

Mint, the cat who never even knew me.

But that was enough. More than enough.

You don’t need to know someone to hurt them.

Mint made one mistake.

He left me.

/./

Swiftpaw, the cat who claimed she loved me.

And I believed her.

She shared tongues with me, comforted me.

Hunted with me.

But then she saw me fight with Nightpaw.

She said it wasn’t right, that she wasn’t going to socialize with a brutal cat, who fought with his kin.

That I needed to change.

She never spoke to me again, only for patrols.

I miss her.

But I can’t change the facts.

Swiftpaw hurt me.

/./

The sixth cat hurt me most.

The sixth cat is me.

Dustpaw.

I hate myself.

Every bit.

I’m the cause of half my misery.

I’m a mistake. My destiny is being a wreck. A failure.

That’s why I have six nights.

Six nights to live, one for each cat.

/./

Night one, for Sandbird.

I settle down in the clearing, and watch as the sun slowly creeps down the horizon. And the moon rises up into the pitch-black night.

Redhawk, who’s seated near the camp exit, says nothing, but I know he’s seen me. I get to my paws, and pad over to the nursery, where I know Sandbird will be.

Sure enough, there she is, Snowkit and Dewkit curled up by her, sleeping. Sandbird isn’t her brown eyes wide like an owl’s.

“What?” She snarls, hatred flashing through her eyes for a split second.

I straighten up nervously, then meow with infinite confidence, “What would you say if I died, in, say, a few days?”

Her expression shifts, looking taken aback, then returns to the empty one. “I don’t know.”

“Would you care?”

“Maybe.”

I turn away, shadows casting over my face. She only might care, when she most definitely should. Suddenly, she meows, “No.”

My voice cracks as I ask, not wanting to hear the answer, “Why?”

/./

(SANDBIRD’S PoV)

''Why? Because you’re an incompetent excuse for a cat. I have better kits.

But I still sort of love you. Maybe a little.''

I reply coldly, “Because you’ve never mattered much. Like a scrawny mouse, when there’s a plump vole a step away.”

“Oh,” He says, turning to face me. Anger burns in his glare silently, slicing my heart.

But then I forget any love or sympathy for Dustpaw, and growl, “Come here. Come here, Dustpaw.”

He obeys, and I drag my claws down, but this time on his face.

Blood comes out.

/./

(DUSTPAW’S PoV)

I open my jaws in pain, but nothing comes out. My throat is dry, my heart pumping. “Stop, please,” I beg in a whisper, but Sandbird doesn’t.

The world starts to spin, progressively faster, and I collapse onto the cold dirt, my whole body throbbing.

Everything goes dark, and I begin to sleep. The night for Sandbird is complete, earlier than planned.

/./

A day comes and goes, and then it’s the second night. For Nightpaw.

This time, instead of the nursery, I head to the apprentices’ den.

Inside, Swiftpaw and Briarpaw are sleeping side-by-side, with Stormpaw in the corner. Nightpaw looks up as I walk in, his amber eyes glinting in the light.

I stop at his nest, meowing quietly, “You have some explaining.”

Nightpaw bushes out his fur and replies pompously, “Please.”

“It’s two questions.”

“Fine, but hurry.”

“Do you love me?”

“Not particularly.”

I roll my eyes. “For real.”

He lays down lazily, licking a paw. “That’s my answer.”

“Yes or no.”

“At times, yes.”

“Great. Second question.”

Nightpaw nods in acknowledgement, his fluffy tail swishing back and forth.

“Would you care if I died?”

“Mm, depends.”

“On what?” I try to restrain my annoyance at his vague answers.

“Exactly how you died.”

“Okay, would the answers differ between saving someone and a fire?”

“Yes.”

“So say I died in a fire.”

“Right. . . if you died in a fire two seconds from now, I wouldn’t, because I’m actually tempted to fight you now. But if you did later, I might care. Probably not though.”

“Okay.” I let out a long breath, then sit down again.

Nightpaw blinks, then asks, “Do you have another question?”

“Yep. Why does Sandbird love you so much?”

“I don’t know, mother’s love?”

“That’s not exactly true on both sides.”

“Lucky first-born?”

“Darkpaw was, stupid.”

“Fine. I’m so charming, she can’t stand it.”

“That wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe you, but okay.”

“Right, well,” Nightpaw shrugs, turning to face the wall, “night.”

“Night.”

I pad out of the den, ready to contemplate his answers.

And I do, until morning.

Night two complete.

/./

The next day, I hunt. All day.

As I hunt, I think about Nightpaw and Sandbird.

That was the first friendly conversation I’d had with Nightpaw. My hatred had dulled slightly with him, but was still there, and had elevated for Sandbird.

I’m almost sad about dying, because Nightpaw could have turned into a friendly, loving brother.

Oh well.

I return to camp at dusk, my jaws loaded with prey, and night three begins.

Mint.

/./

“Mint,” I whisper, alone in the clearing.

He could’ve given me a better life, possibly. If he were different then Sandbird, he could’ve countered her abusive nature. But he didn’t.

He left, and he didn’t care to even see his kits. He left me without a father figure in my life, and siblings’.

“Mint,” I murmur once more.

Mint, my kittypet father.

I hope he’s dead.

I get to my paws, and head to the nursery, but this time is different.

This time I’m prepared for any pain Sandbird might inflict on me.

“What is it?” Sandbird snarls when I pad in. Snowkit and Dewkit aren’t near me, but instead curled against Brindlefern with Brightkit.

I tentatively whisper dryly, “Mint.”

That changes everything. Sandbird’s harsh expression melts into sadness, and love. Then it hardens, with her even angrier. “Don’t talk about him, Dustpaw. You’re a bad mark to his name.”

“I have a question.”

Sandbird doesn’t answer, but I can tell I’ve got her tense.

“What was Mint like?”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve to know.”

“You,” Sandbird says, her breath hot on my face, “deserve nothing of the sort.”

I flinch slightly, but fight back my tears at Sandbird’s undeniable hatred for me. Trying to make my voice confident, but cold, I meow, “Tell me.”

Satisfaction surges over me when her face swaps to doubt, but only for a second. “Fine,” Sandbird hisses, “Mint. He was a silver cat with black tabby stripes, like Darkpaw. Amber eyes like Nightpaw. Nimble and fast on his paws.

“He was in the Clan for a short time, but left just before you were born. He didn’t want to be a warrior, and I never saw him again. He. . .”

I feel my heart skip slightly when Sandbird trails off. Nothing can change the fact that Mint hurt me by leaving, but he might have loved me. “Continue,” I say, my voice cool and indifferent.

“He would have hated you,” She says with a smirk. “Oh, how he would have! He would be so terribly proud of Nightpaw, though. Nightpaw is just like him.” My hopes plummet then. If he’s like Nightpaw, he’s no better than Sandbird. Hating me is believable.

I nod, tears welling up, and leave the den silently. Behind a bramble bush near the elders’ den, I begin to cry. I cry myself to sleep.

Night three is over, with not such a great ending.

I dread my final two days.

/./

The next day goes by fast, and night four begins. Swiftpaw.

This night, I’m already in the apprentices’ den by dusk, waiting for Swiftpaw.

“Hello,” I say softly when she walks in.

Of course, no reply. “Hey, I need to talk with you, Swiftpaw.”

This time, she mews, “Say it, but quick.”

I pad over to her. “Did you love me?”

Her ice-blue eyes flash, then she mutters, “Yes.”

“If I died, would you care?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I let out a long breath that I’d been holding. “One more thing. Do you still love me?”

This time, the black and white she-cat looks away. There’s a silence, and then she turns back, her eyes raging with icy fire. “What do you think, idiot? It practically tore me to pieces to leave you! Everyday, I’m thinking about you! I don’t even understand you anymore, though. You’re distant and cold since I left you, and I hate it!”

My eyes widen at this, and then I meow, “Well, why didn’t you stay with me?”

“Because it felt like everyday you were falling away from me, farther and farther into a dark hole.”

I open my jaws, but nothing comes out. “Oh,” I whisper, once my mouth is wet enough to form words again. “Well, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I bow my head and lick her ear, for what could be the final time, the break away and head to my nest. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Night four over.

/./

Finally, it’s dusk. Finally.

This night is my night.

The fifth night.

In my head I recite all the stupid decisions I’ve made, problems I’ve caused, on my way to the lake.

Number one. Losing Swiftpaw.

Number two. Not helping Badgerpaw, and he died because of it.

And so on.

When I arrive, the moon is shining bright. Only a crescent moon, but it’s bright as a full moon. The light reflects off the lake, leaving my blinded in the beauty. But not for long.

This is the night.

I take a deep breath, then plunge into the water. At first, it’s cold. So cold.

But then I get used to it, and I almost feel at peace. Except for the fact my chest feels like it’ll burst any minute from the lack of air.

I think about my life, memories rushing back.

A new one is with it this time.

Sandbird, trying to drown me as a kit.

I sigh, my anger dulling, and accept the water’s tight embrace with pleasure.

Moments later, the world goes black.

Goodbye.

/./

Life is better up here.

I spent a night with Darkpaw, as my sixth.

But now, everything is better.

Infinite love, no hate. No problems, no fear.

For once, I, Dustpaw, am happy.

THE END.ight care, when she most definitely should. Suddenly, she meows, “No.”

My voice cracks as I ask, not wanting to hear the answer, “Why?”

/./

(SANDBIRD’S PoV)

Why? Because you’re an incompetent excuse for a cat. I have better kits.

But I still sort of love you. Maybe a little.

I reply coldly, “Because you’ve never mattered much. Like a scrawny mouse, when there’s a plump vole a step away.”

“Oh,” He says, turning to face me. Anger burns in his glare silently, slicing my heart.

But then I forget any love or sympathy for Dustpaw, and growl, “Come here. Come here, Dustpaw.”

He obeys, and I drag my claws down, but this time on his face.

Blood comes out.

/./

(DUSTPAW’S PoV)

I open my jaws in pain, but nothing comes out. My throat is dry, my heart pumping. “Stop, please,” I beg in a whisper, but Sandbird doesn’t.

The world starts to spin, progressively faster, and I collapse onto the cold dirt, my whole body throbbing.

Everything goes dark, and I begin to sleep. The night for Sandbird is complete, earlier than planned.

/./

A day comes and goes, and then it’s the second night. For Nightpaw.

This time, instead of the nursery, I head to the apprentices’ den.

Inside, Swiftpaw and Briarpaw are sleeping side-by-side, with Stormpaw in the corner. Nightpaw looks up as I walk in, his amber eyes glinting in the light.

I stop at his nest, meowing quietly, “You have some explaining.”

Nightpaw bushes out his fur and replies pompously, “Please.”

“It’s two questions.”

“Fine, but hurry.”

“Do you love me?”

“Not particularly.”

I roll my eyes. “For real.”

He lays down lazily, licking a paw. “That’s my answer.”

“Yes or no.”

“At times, yes.”

“Great. Second question.”

Nightpaw nods in acknowledgement, his fluffy tail swishing back and forth.

“Would you care if I died?”

“Mm, depends.”

“On what?” I try to restrain my annoyance at his vague answers.

“Exactly how you died.”

“Okay, would the answers differ between saving someone and a fire?”

“Yes.”

“So say I died in a fire.”

“Right. . . if you died in a fire two seconds from now, I wouldn’t, because I’m actually tempted to fight you now. But if you did later, I might care. Probably not though.”

“Okay.” I let out a long breath, then sit down again.

Nightpaw blinks, then asks, “Do you have another question?”

“Yep. Why does Sandbird love you so much?”

“I don’t know, mother’s love?”

“That’s not exactly true on both sides.”

“Lucky first-born?”

“Darkpaw was, stupid.”

“Fine. I’m so charming, she can’t stand it.”

“That wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe you, but okay.”

“Right, well,” Nightpaw shrugs, turning to face the wall, “night.”

“Night.”

I pad out of the den, ready to contemplate his answers.

And I do, until morning.

Night two complete.

/./

The next day, I hunt. All day.

As I hunt, I think about Nightpaw and Sandbird.

That was the first friendly conversation I’d had with Nightpaw. My hatred had dulled slightly with him, but was still there, and had elevated for Sandbird.

I’m almost sad about dying, because Nightpaw could have turned into a friendly, loving brother.

Oh well.

I return to camp at dusk, my jaws loaded with prey, and night three begins.

Mint.

/./

“Mint,” I whisper, alone in the clearing.

He could’ve given me a better life, possibly. If he were different then Sandbird, he could’ve countered her abusive nature. But he didn’t.

He left, and he didn’t care to even see his kits. He left me without a father figure in my life, and siblings’.

“Mint,” I murmur once more.

Mint, my kittypet father.

I hope he’s dead.

I get to my paws, and head to the nursery, but this time is different.

This time I’m prepared for any pain Sandbird might inflict on me.

“What is it?” Sandbird snarls when I pad in. Snowkit and Dewkit aren’t near me, but instead curled against Brindlefern with Brightkit.

I tentatively whisper dryly, “Mint.”

That changes everything. Sandbird’s harsh expression melts into sadness, and love. Then it hardens, with her even angrier. “Don’t talk about him, Dustpaw. You’re a bad mark to his name.”

“I have a question.”

Sandbird doesn’t answer, but I can tell I’ve got her tense.

“What was Mint like?”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve to know.”

“You,” Sandbird says, her breath hot on my face, “deserve nothing of the sort.”

I flinch slightly, but fight back my tears at Sandbird’s undeniable hatred for me. Trying to make my voice confident, but cold, I meow, “Tell me.”

Satisfaction surges over me when her face swaps to doubt, but only for a second. “Fine,” Sandbird hisses, “Mint. He was a silver cat with black tabby stripes, like Darkpaw. Amber eyes like Nightpaw. Nimble and fast on his paws.

“He was in the Clan for a short time, but left just before you were born. He didn’t want to be a warrior, and I never saw him again. He. . .”

I feel my heart skip slightly when Sandbird trails off. Nothing can change the fact that Mint hurt me by leaving, but he might have loved me. “Continue,” I say, my voice cool and indifferent.

“He would have hated you,” She says with a smirk. “Oh, how he would have! He would be so terribly proud of Nightpaw, though. Nightpaw is just like him.” My hopes plummet then. If he’s like Nightpaw, he’s no better than Sandbird. Hating me is believable.

I nod, tears welling up, and leave the den silently. Behind a bramble bush near the elders’ den, I begin to cry. I cry myself to sleep.

Night three is over, with not such a great ending.

I dread my final two days.

/./

The next day goes by fast, and night four begins. Swiftpaw.

This night, I’m already in the apprentices’ den by dusk, waiting for Swiftpaw.

“Hello,” I say softly when she walks in.

Of course, no reply. “Hey, I need to talk with you, Swiftpaw.”

This time, she mews, “Say it, but quick.”

I pad over to her. “Did you love me?”

Her ice-blue eyes flash, then she mutters, “Yes.”

“If I died, would you care?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I let out a long breath that I’d been holding. “One more thing. Do you still love me?”

This time, the black and white she-cat looks away. There’s a silence, and then she turns back, her eyes raging with icy fire. “What do you think, idiot? It practically tore me to pieces to leave you! Everyday, I’m thinking about you! I don’t even understand you anymore, though. You’re distant and cold since I left you, and I hate it!”

My eyes widen at this, and then I meow, “Well, why didn’t you stay with me?”

“Because it felt like everyday you were falling away from me, farther and farther into a dark hole.”

I open my jaws, but nothing comes out. “Oh,” I whisper, once my mouth is wet enough to form words again. “Well, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I bow my head and lick her ear, for what could be the final time, the break away and head to my nest. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Night four over.

/./

Finally, it’s dusk. Finally.

This night is my night.

The fifth night.

In my head I recite all the stupid decisions I’ve made, problems I’ve caused, on my way to the lake.

Number one. Losing Swiftpaw.

Number two. Not helping Badgerpaw, and he died because of it.

And so on.

When I arrive, the moon is shining bright. Only a crescent moon, but it’s bright as a full moon. The light reflects off the lake, leaving my blinded in the beauty. But not for long.

This is the night.

I take a deep breath, then plunge into the water. At first, it’s cold. So cold.

But then I get used to it, and I almost feel at peace. Except for the fact my chest feels like it’ll burst any minute from the lack of air.

I think about my life, memories rushing back.

A new one is with it this time.

Sandbird, trying to drown me as a kit.

I sigh, my anger dulling, and accept the water’s tight embrace with pleasure.

Moments later, the world goes black.

Goodbye.

/./

Life is better up here.

I spent a night with Darkpaw, as my sixth.

But now, everything is better.

Infinite love, no hate. No problems, no fear.

For once, I, Dustpaw, am happy.

THE END.