Invalid

One Thousand Heartbeats — 1

Things were different after you died. I lived. I earned my warrior name. I fell in love. I had a kit.

And what was worst, I forgot about you — how you were my closest friend, the only friend I'd ever had, how you made me feel like I wasn't just an ordinary apprentice. That was how Cloudtail made me feel when I was a warrior; that I was beautiful, no matter how many scars I bore. Scars were the mark of those who were experienced, not those who were ugly, or unable to defend themselves. Scars, both emotional and physical, created the cat that I was today, and in some ways, I was grateful for that. Without those scars, what would define me? Would I just be Brightheart, the cat that was stupid enough to try and kill a pack of dogs on her own? Or Brightheart, the no-one, a passing memory? Perhaps, when time came to pass, I'd be remembered for my bravery or my determination, not for my foolhardiness.

Some things, Swiftpaw, just have to be said. You, you are a passing memory; once the initial shock of your death came to an end, as all things do, you grew to be forgotten, just like I might have — but I was given a chance by StarClan. A chance to live, to set things right, to keep a heart beating, to have a family, to live, and to learn, and to appreciate the life I had, scars or no. You weren't given a chance, or a name, as I was. You would always be Swiftpaw, the apprentice; yet if I'd died that day, I'd be Lostface, the warrior. Named by a leader so affected by treachery and betrayal that it had caused the loss of sanity, and in one of these moments when nothing but anger and fear remained — but a warrior nonetheless. I pity you sometimes, before I close my eyes at night; because I fear that I am the only cat that dares lock you away somewhere in my memory, to keep your heart beating in all eternity, until the time comes that I must join you along with my Clanmates, when I have served my Clan as well as I can. When my time has come. Yours had not come. You were too young. And whatever she might have thought, you were never the traitor she made you out to be.

I suppose, walking amongst your Clanmates, you would only have lived a half-life, that of a cripple, because I know what those dogs did to you. I have memories that come back to me in my darkest nightmares in the depth of leafbare and in the time of the new moon. Nightmares that will haunt me forever; and despite how much I say I am better, I know I shall never be better.

I know that the moment I agreed to go with you, and encouraged you, will always be there and come to haunt me. Though I say I'm fine, and physically, I am, I can never remove those memories. I can remember that moment when I cheered your name at your apprentice ceremony. I can remember when I screamed at you to turn back when I saw the dogs.

And you didn't listen to me. You made me blame myself for not insisting harder, for standing there frozen in time in wide-eyed horror as the dogs swarmed over you, and refusing to go back for help. I wish I could say I did all I could to keep you alive, but...that wasn't what happened. I turned and ran when I saw them coming at you, and I didn't look back, until the dogs were upon me. And then, I saw nothing. Just darkness filtering before my eyes, until I was brought to StarClan, hanging between life and death.

And you were there.

I remember staring at you in horror as you smiled at me, kindly, endearingly, and no scratches and bruises were present where you should have been mauled. There were just three neat bite marks in your neck, the only sign of the awful fight you had been involved in. I knew, then, that you were dead. And I would always blame myself for my inadequacies; my cowardice in the face of a fight; my unwillingness to persist; the loyalty that I had lost in that instance, as I stared those dogs in their mean black eyes.

You told me that I would be blessed as a warrior, to be able to fight. That I would find love with a cat who I had hardly thought twice about before. That I would live a long and happy life.

I did, didn't I? You watched me as I lived it, as I began to forget you, as I put the past behind me — except in those dreams I had every single night for seasons. I watched the dogs overcome you, and I would be screaming your name; and you would look up at me with those liquid amber eyes, begging to be rescued, but my feet would be rooted to the spot, and I couldn't run as they turned, blood dripping from their jaws, and slowly started to approach me...

Then I would wake up, and I would be in the warrior's den again, and I would make my way out of the den and murmur an excuse to the guard. I would approach a river in the territory, in both new and old, and stare down into its depths, and watch my reflection in the rippling waters. Sometimes, if I looked hard enough, you would be there, sitting beside me.

But those fantasies and my night-time demons would be forgotten during the day and I would be happy, until the time came that I forget everything about the tragedies I'd experienced. As soon as I had my kit, my pride and joy, all those moments of horror seemed to vanish. I would watch her proudly as she became an apprentice, when she experienced her first fight, when she displayed honour and courage, and finally, when she became a warrior.

Whitewing. She fell in love, and had kits, two beautiful kits, whom I was proud to call my kin. I loved them almost as dearly as I loved my own daughter, and before I knew it, they were warriors, too. And I became an elder, watching Clan life buzz happily by, flashing before my very eyes, the present becoming treasured memories.

I often do that, now; I sit and watch the camp, and smile as Ivypool and Dovewing's kits come and visit me, begging for a story. I tell one to them with little reluctance, smiling and chuckling at their antics all the way through. Cloudtail is there, adding things in good-naturedly, and falls asleep halfway through the story, until the kits wake him up and he swipes them off with a laugh, telling them that he has to sleep now and that he's in no mood for play. But he plays, though — and that's why I love him so much. He's willing to do anything for anyone he loves. He has such loyalty, and I respect that; he has more loyalty than I will ever have and I could ever bring myself to have. He deserves what he has.

I'm getting old now. My time hasn't come, yet, but for the first time in seasons, I have had that dream again, the one about you. Only this time, the dogs weren't there; you were fending off invisible things, things that would be concealed to the naked eye, but you were struggling all the same. Somehow, you managed to smile at me, right before you fall down and your spirit wanders off to StarClan to join those of our ancestors.

And that's how deep my scars are, that's how deeply I am an invalid; I have overcome the injuries visible to those who glance once. To those who look deeper, harder, and for much, much longer, there are other injuries that most cannot see. The scars that burden my mind and my memory — scars that no matter how hard you try, you can never shake off.

Those visible scars, you grow to forget and eventually, you learn to accept them, and other cats know that they are there. But memories...they sneak up into your mind when you're thinking about something completely different; they can warp into darker thoughts, can drive a cat to insanity, such as they did for Bluestar. You're the cause of all these memories, the ones that will always label me as an invalid.

You know why that is, don't you, Swiftpaw? It's because I will never forget you. It's because I loved you.

It's because I will always love you.

One Thousand Heartbeats is going to be a collection of (hopefully) one hundred, possibly more, one-shots, about different events in the lives of different cats. Generally, they will be pairing one-shots, but sometimes they'll be about battles and other such things — they probably will be about cats that we know of, but they might be about cats I've made up who will be from the original Clans. As you might have guessed, this is a Swift/Bright one-shot (I don't think are enough of them around) as Brightheart reflects on her love of Swiftpaw and her memories of him.

I'm using a word randomiser to come up with the themes, so as to inspire me. However, you can suggest a word — or a phrase, but preferably a word — that I could use as inspiration for a one-shot, or even a pairing, event or cat/s. I may not use every idea suggested, depending on how 'inspirational' I find them, and whether or not the cats are Mary-Sues; and I will dedicate the chapter to whoever suggests the word.

I think that's all for now. I haven't got anything planned for next one-shot, and it might be a while before I update. This is just a sort of side-story thing, which I update with one-shots when I'm bored, or inspired with a great idea for a one-shot, instead of making a separate story for each one-shot I write.

So, review away, give me your thoughts, opinions, etc.

Queen Of The Pens