The Twoleg Prophecy 2/A Twoleg Christmas

John sat on his bed, the faint glow of multi-colored Christmas lights shone through the windows of the inn, the neighboring homes bustling with friends, family and joy.

But this Christmas was going to be different for John. As if the first twelve days wasn’t any indication.

This was his first Christmas without family or friends. Sure, he had Ada, but still, it can’t Christmas without… her.

John let out a long, exhausted sigh. So many people were staying here for Christmas this year, and he was getting tired of the little children from the next room complaining about not being able to open their presents today, on Christmas Eve.

He wasn’t going to have many Christmas presents this year.

He definitely won’t be enjoying a nice Christmas dinner, or watching the traditional Christmas speech from The Queen.

Those children had nothing to complain about.

Maybe I’ll be lucky and Father Christmas will give me something. John thought with contempt.

He rolled over to look at the time.

It was 10:00, and he assumed the children around the world were tucking into bed, awaiting Christmas morn with great fervor and excitement.

But as John turned in for the night, nothing but remorse and sadness greeted him.

…

The dream was a quaint one. John dreamed of Christmas’s before, the tree decorated and lit, each one of his siblings going before him to open their presents, as well as John soon after, their parents faces aglow with happiness as they opened their gifts from the children and each other.

Anne, his sister, would come over, and they would each open her presents from her, and then their Christmas meal would be prepared, Her Majesty giving her usual speech, the children playing with their toys.

How he missed those days. Suddenly, the house surrounding them burst into flames, the children screaming as their toys faded away.

John opened his eyes to find the all too familiar ceiling of the inn before him. It wasn’t long before tears came, the anger and sorrow catching up to him at that moment.

“Why did this happen to me… Mother… Father…” John sat up in the bed and grasped his knees, laying his head in them. “I wish none of that had ever happened! I wish that prophecy this, prophecy that never happened! Was I born to endure this pain?”

John sobbed as he almost screamed, “I wish… I had never been… born! I …can’t handle this!” He grasped a knife that was on his bedside, the thought of suicide on his mind, and he closed his eyes.

Nothing. That’s what he felt for a moment before he realized he was on the ground. He stopped his crying for a moment, and realized that the soft glow of the Christmas lights was gone. He looked up, and found there were still lights, but he was in a completely different room.

The room was empty, and it took a moment for John to realize that it was his old room. From his old house. He stood up, the knife absent and completely forgotten.

He looked around for a moment, and then started to head for the door, turning the handle slowly.

As he stepped out of his room, he realized that the rest of the house must be completely empty, since there was no furniture to be seen.

What is going on here? John thought, confused. He walked down the spiral staircase, his confusion growing as he reached the first floor.

As he surveyed the living room, a small voice called out to him.

“Hello, John.” The quavering voice mewled.

The twoleg turned around to see a small tom, old enough to be an apprentice, staring at him. A ghostly tune was in his voice, and stars lined his pelt.

“You twolegs always take these things to extremes. Can’t you learn to be happy on your own?” The tom meowed, and John looked back in shock.

“Who are you, and what is going on here?” John yelled in confusion.

“Gosh, can’t you quiet down for a second?” The tom shook his head. “I am here to guide you through this new reality. Just like you wished, you were never born here.”

John looked at him as if he were crazy, and then he sighed.

“So now what? Am I supposed to just stay here?” John growled in frustration.

“No. If you’re in such a hurry, let’s get started. Not like you have anything to look forward to.” The tom started to hover, and John realized that he too was flying. Before he knew it, he was already above the clouds, and they were flying north.

“You see,” The tom flying next to John meowed, “That house you woke up in was your old home, but, now that you were never born, your parents moved away from Lyndhurst. The house hasn’t sold since.”

The cool night air brushed against John’s face as he tried to grasp what was happening.

John looked over to the young tom, and stared hard. The tom had an almost completely black pelt, save for a white spot over his left eye.

“I just want to know one thing, whoever you are. What is going on here?”

The tom looked at him and sighed. “You wished you had never been born, right?”

John looked down at the ground passing beneath him in shame. “Yeah, I did.”

“You got your wish.”

Before John could ask any questions, the force lifting him was cut off, and John plummeted into the forest below.

…

“Ow… What happened?” John groaned in pain as he lay on the forest floor, feeling as if a ton of bricks were dropped on his chest. He felt smaller, and he gasped in realization as he felt his tail moving around though the grass.

He slowly worked his way off the ground, shaking the dirt off his small frame. Suddenly he heard the bushes around him rustle, and was thrown to the ground let again as claws dug into his shoulders.

“Who are you, stranger?” A male voice spat in his face as the claws dug into him even more.

John looked up at the tom, and was surprised when he saw Lionblaze staring him down.

“It’s me, the Thunderclan twoleg, John! Now get off!” John yowled, kicking Lionblaze off with his back legs.

“I don’t know a ‘John’. Now get off our territory, stranger!” Lionblaze hissed.

“Shut up, Lionblaze! This is not funny!” John growled. Lionblaze blinked in confusion. “How do you know my name?”

John smiled as he realized how to convince him that is was him. “I’m Hollyleaf’s mate, and Graystripe’s friend! Come on! You remember me don’t you?”

“They don’t remember you, idiot!” The mysterious tom’s voice rang though John’s head. “You’ve never been born, remember?”

“My sister… how do you know my sister?” Lionblaze looked at the ground in sadness. John sighed as he realized how stupid he was. “She was my mate.”

“No…” Lionblaze mewed. “She never had one… because she died in the great fight.” John’s heart sank. “What great fight?”

“There was one between our clans recently…” Lionblaze seemed to be in a trance.

“Every clan was there. She died when a cat from Shadowclan mauled her. All through the night, we fought… and now, the clans all around the lake are on the brink of extinction.”

“The lake?” John meowed loudly. He ran away from the clearing, and stopped at the shore of the lake, the surface frozen over with ice, twolegs skating happily across.

…

John walked into the old camp, Lionblaze at his side. The cats from around the clan looked at him with a look of hostility and weakness, the rocky walls stained with blood.

Brambleclaw padded outside a den built into the side of the quarry and he looked down at the visitors.

“Lionblaze, who is this cat you have brought here?” He said with a look of contempt, but like the rest of his clan, weakness dulled his eyes.

“This is John, father. He says he knows of the failed prophecy.” Brambleclaw glared at John, and looked back at his son.

“Why did you bring him here?” Brambleclaw asked.

“Because he knew about the prophecy, he knew my name… and he knew Hollyleaf.” The clan members started to whisper hurriedly to themselves as Brambleclaw motioned John over.

“Speak with me, John.” John nodded as he made his way up to the den, his heart pounding.

“Sit.” Brambleclaw ordered. John noticed that this den must be the leader’s den, from stories he had heard from Hollyleaf. Strangely, John noticed a distinct lack of a certain scent that got him worried.

“Uh, Brambleclaw? Where’s Firestar?” John asked quietly. Brambleclaw’s head dipped in sorrow as he spoke. “Firestar is dead, and I am leader now. How do you know him?”

“The same reason I know you, Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, Jayfeather and everyone else in this clan.” John answered, his heart heavy from the news of Firestar’s death.

“How?” Bramblestar asked.

“I…Can’t tell you.” John admitted. He was afraid of what would happen if he told Bramblestar the truth.

The Thunderclan leader sighed. But before he could say anything else, Lionblaze rushed through the entrance to the den.

“Bramblestar! We need you! Now!” He panted, yowls coming from outside.

“On my way.” Bramblestar sighed. “Stay here, John.”

John nodded, but as soon as they left, John poked his head outside.

“Oh Starclan. What is going on?” John gasped as he saw cats from all clans in the midst of the camp, slashing and tearing at Thunderclan cats.

The tom’s voice penetrated John’s thoughts yet again. “It continues this way for moons. All because you couldn’t stand it anymore.” Time started to flash before his eyes, the clan below him slowly dying out from hunger, weakness and attacks from the other clans, leaving nothing but an empty shell of what it once was.

John closed his eyes in shame. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want anyone to die…”

The voice was quiet for a moment. “You know, this also happened to me.”

John looked up as he realized the tom was standing in front of him.

“I was tired of my life in a small clan like the ones here. Nothing was working out right, everything was going the opposite direction from the way I wanted things to go. I gave up, and drowned myself. But unlike you, I died. I was never given a chance to see and think about things. You’re lucky I saw you and decided to help you. I couldn’t stand to see someone hurt like I did.”

John sighed as he smiled at the tom. “Thank you… What is your name?”

“My name is Henry. And thank you, John. I’m glad I decided to help you.”

The twoleg stared in disbelief as Henry faded away, and John found himself looking up at the ceiling of the inn, knife in hand.

He threw the knife across the room, and hugged his pillow.

Life really is the greatest gift. John thought. I’m just happy to be alive right now.

He looked outside and saw snow falling down, Christmas lights shining through the cascade.

John heard the quiet sound of carolers passing by as he fell asleep.

Angels we have heard on high

Sweetly singing o’er the plains

And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

(A/N: It's not much... But I liked it's message. I could have used this story when I was being bullied in middle school. I was on the edge of either killing my self or cutting... Thanks be to God now that I'm homeschooled... :) Merry CHRISTmas everyone!)

-- Brave star  TTP 2 21:45, December 25, 2011 (UTC)