You will never be a real cat. You have no tail, you have no claws, your ears are floating. You are a homosexual woman twisted by autism and rigging into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your geometric appearance behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even Nekomimi who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your head structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected floating ear.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your Cumbuds will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your original outfit, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a shark is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably aquatic.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
