The Death of Appletuft

Perfect by Design
Unplug the clock, I’m running out of time

I’m tired of everything that I called mine

I’m sick of trying to find a word that works

“Appletuft?” No response. “APPLETUFT!” No response. Nothing. I open my mouth to scream, but close it when I hear a whisper. “Mousetail?” she breathes. It’s barely audible. I bite back another scream. She thinks I’m her sister, who died moons ago. “It’s Mapleberry,” I choke out. “Your daughter.”

An ocean made of photographs and names

I hang them on my wall without a frame

A million strangers passing by and stare

I swear I’m running fast but go nowhere

“Who?” she asks. She doesn’t remember me. Quailfeather warned me about this. “Mapleberry,” I whisper softly, my heart breaking. ''Will I always be this broken? ''I ask myself. I hate feeling broken. It reminds me of every loss. My father. My mate. Now, my mother. She’s stopped breathing. Stopped moving. Her russet fur blows in the wind. Her scent is still here, but it is slowly being overtaken by the scent of death. This time, I really do scream.

Can you rip the stitches one by one?

I’ll wake you up and let you know it’s done

'You can hide but you know you can’t run'

The vigil is over. Every cat is gone. Her body is growing colder every second. I dare not leave her alone. “Come, get some sleep,” someone murmurs. I turn around slowly. For a moment, it appears to be Appletuft, and the lump in my throat disappears. The cat gets closer, and I see it is really my son, his russet fur so reminiscent of my mother’s. I shake my head. “I can’t leave her,” I croak, my voice sounding like it hadn’t been used in moons. I can see in his eyes that he knows I am broken. But he wants me -needs me- to get better, and so I will. On the outside, at least.

Time and time again we fall in line

Cookie cutter houses all aligned

Everything is perfect by design

'So why can’t I escape from my own mind?'

It’s been a moon since she joined StarClan. My grief has slowly turned into a numbness that has slowly replaced my very being. Everything I do is slow. It’s the only speed at which I can function. I am no longer myself. Mapleberry died with her mother. I am nothing.

Patiently awaiting something new

Something that won’t remind me of you

'Open up the door, I’m leaving soon'

If no one mentions her, will they disappear? Everything reminds me of everyone. Every time I look at my sister, I see my father’s face, and I know she sees our mother in me. Whenever I spend time with my kits, all I can see is sharp claws slicing through my mate’s gray fur. I tried to catch a mouse, but I couldn’t kill it, because it reminded me of my mother. So I let it go. Maybe, if I let Appletuft go, I will be whole again. But she clings to me like I used to cling to her.

The corners of my mind are closing in

Rip away, defenses wearing thin

If it ends, then where do I begin?

How did this get underneath my skin?

Leaf-bare has turned to new-leaf. The season I was born. I have no idea how long it’s been since Appletuft died. I have to know. It will drive me crazy if I don’t find out. But no one wants to talk about her, especially to me. So I seek out the only cat I trust to tell me the truth. Duckfeather, my sister’s mate. “How long has it been since Appletuft died?” I ask, surprising myself with how calm and collected I sound. I feel calm and collected, too. I can finally say that she died without my mind screaming at me. Duckfeather looks at me sadly. “Three seasons,” she responds. Three seasons. I am suddenly mad at myself. It took me three seasons to put myself back together. My littermates are still broken. And that realization breaks me all over again.

'Let me know when it’s all said and done'

'Let me know when it’s all said and done'

'Let me know when it’s all said and done'

'Let me know when it’s all said and done'

My sister is dead. She’d been starving herself for three seasons. If she hadn’t done that, if she’d been stronger, she could’ve fought the infection. RiverClan would still have a deputy. My brother has withdrawn himself. He shuts himself in his den, and talks to no one. He will never be whole again. I remember when I thought I would never be whole again. But now, I can’t afford to break. The Clan looks to me, and I have no idea why. Maybe they think that Turtlestar will talk to me. I’ve tried, but he says nothing. Regardless, I lead RiverClan now. I will be the one who chooses the next leader when my brother is dead. My sister’s death may kill my brother, but it has brought me back to life.

Here's the song that this depressing story is based on: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhQxsObsxJ0