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Who woulda thunk? It’s been six months since I started writing this stuff, and it has been somewhat enjoyable one hundred times! That’s pretty cool.

“So, what are you going to do to celebrate?”

“Well Daniel, I’m going to post a selfie from modelling.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, I put a filter on it. And even without the filter, you’d have to look pretty hard to tell that it’s me.”

“Fair enough. Have I seen this one?”

“Nah, this was from today.”

“Nice! Show me the money!”

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“You….weren’t kidding, it really doesn’t look like you.”

“Told you.”

“What happened to your hair?”

“Got put in a scarf. I like it.”

“I DON’T.”

“Daniel…”

“You don’t look like you!”

“Do you think I’d be posting it if I did?”

“Argh…”

Anyway, I’d just like to say thankyou to all of you imaginary readers who take a minute out of their day to read the whingings of a very mentally ill teenage girl and her loudmouthed imaginary friend. It just gives me that little extra motivation to keep writing, and that gives me the clarity I obviously need when it comes to this world.

So thankyou. ^_^

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Slut Dress

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Yesterday, I would’ve never have done what I did today.

I purchased…a slut dress.

Or at least the sluttiest dress I am likely ever to wear on my own volition.

“BOOBS!”

“No Daniel, it does not expose my chest.”

“But I feel like seeing boobs.”

“Argh…what do you think the internet is for?”

“But there is none…”

“Well, use your imagination then!”

Now, back to slut dress. I do not usually buy slut dresses, because whenever I see girls wearing slut dresses, all I can think is how unattractive it makes them look. That and ‘Was that a nip slip? Yeah…that’s a nip slip, stop staring Daniel! No, that does not mean stare at her ass ch- oh my god, her ass cheeks are hanging out, is she drunk?’

“The answer to that was yes, by the way.”

“Yeah…you still wanted to tap her though. By the way, I need your help with something here.”

“Really now? Whatever for?”

“You’re my slutomitor.”

“I see. What does that entail?”

“Boobs.”

“I’m in. Okay, throw them at me!”

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“…These are dresses. I was promised boobs. Where are my boobs?”

“These are close enough. You’re a man, and as a man, what would you think of this dress?”

“…”

“Let me guess, boobs?”

“Yuhhuh. And for the record,” he adds as I roll my eyes, “If it weren’t for the midriff, I would go for that.”

“What’s wrong with the midriff?”

“Look Cat, when it comes to exposing flesh, less is better than more, always.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay…” Daniel inhales. “Say there’s two girls coming onto me in a bar. One is wearing that polka dot dress you have in your closet. It’s not that tight, and it doesn’t really show off your chest, but you look nice in it. Especially your legs.”

“Wait, I’m in this fantasy?”

“While the other,” Daniel disregards my look of horror, “Has a tight red dress on that’s so high you can see what colour underwear she’s wearing. None, by the way,” he informs me. “On top, she has these massive-“

“I get the idea Daniel! She looks like the girl at my school fundraiser on Friday!”

“Yup. Buttcheeks girl,” he grins. “When the two of your are side by side, men would probably go for you.”

“…Daniel, I’m sixteen, I’m not even legal yet.”

“Do you object to the idea of men hitting on you?”

“…”

“Then it’s settled. The point I’m trying to make,” he tells me, “is that Buttcheeks is trying too hard. She desperately wants male attention, even going without panties, and that is a big turnoff. Men don’t want something that’s ready to bend over as soon as we say hi. That’s what whores are for.”

“I wonder if Buttcheeks got laid…”

“Most likely not. I saw how everyone was looking at her. Cat, think of it this way. If you saw a man wearing tiny pants and no shirt at a place that wasn’t the beach, would you go for him?”

“No. I don’t have a thing for stoners.”

“Good girl. And vice versa; if a girl wears something exposing her breasts and her ass in a place where we don’t expect to see breasts and ass, the men she’s seeking to impress aren’t going to be impressed. The men who are impressed will probably root her in an alleyway.”

“Okay…so bare flesh is unattractive.”

“No, bare flesh in public is unattractive,” he corrects me. “The key, my dear, is making flesh attractive under the confines of clothes. You know how to do this.”

I nod. “Thankyou Trinny and Susannah. So, let’s see if I understand this.”

“Proceed, Lady Madigan.”

“Bare flesh can be attractive. But not in giant doses.”

“And not in places where bare flesh isn’t wanted.”

“So, I can go to a bar wearing something showing off my legs, providing my ass and boobs are inside?”

He nods. “Legs are hot. So are backs. Backs are the new racks.”

“That should be a phrase. So the ideal slut dress is one that shows off a tiny bit of flesh, and hints at the rest?”

“Bingo. Peak their interest, and make them want more. Well done Cat Madigan.”

I wrinkle my face. “Thanks for the valuable life lesson. How to make a man in a bar or at a party want to go after you. Most useful.”

“So what does this slut dress look like?”

“Shows off legs and back.”

“Naked back?”

“Uhhuh.”

“Tight dress”

“I guess.”

“Skirtline?”

“Cheeky.”

He kisses my forehead. “Good girl.”

Walking Away

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“The only thing determined”, my philosophy teacher told us, “is that we are all going to die.”

“Yeah…about that,” Daniel murmurs next to me. I just grimace, and try to ignore the memory of my head being smashed in.

Philosophy Club was spent discussing Liberalism and Determinism. The two basic beliefs relating to time travel. Liberalism believes in free will; our actions determine the future, reality is composed of what has happened and what is happening right now. In other words, it’s our own fault if the world blows up tomorrow. Determinism, on the other hand, messes with my head to the point that I slip into Delirium purely from the confusion. If everything is set out for us, then we don’t really have free will, meaning we don’t really think, we just follow a script which has already been written. And if that’s the case, what is the point of being a good person, if it’s in our destiny to have a happy ending? And how do we know these things? I’m now writing this in a place with red grass and trees with veins, so I’ll stop there before I slip permanently.

I didn’t have any questions during Philosophy Club. I saved them for after, when I was with Daniel.

“Are you from the future?” I asked him.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You refuse to say anything about yourself, and everyone in Delirium has funny skin that glows in the dark.”

“I don’t have funny skin.”

“You’re…different. You don’t look like a shadow in Reality. They would though.” I thought for a moment. “Are you human?”

He laughed at that. “Seriously,” I said. “You are the only one in my head who looks normal. Ish. Why do you think I didn’t start smashing your head in when I met you?”

“I thought that was because your psychotic tendencies hadn’t surfaced yet?”

“Nah, I’ve always been this mad.” Daniel’s face is one of mock horror. “I didn’t smash anyone’s head in,” I amended. “But I thought about it. Believe me…” I crossed my arms. “We, my friend, are getting off topic.”

“Are we? Good. What’s for dinner?”

“Something gluten free and disgusting, you know that. Are you human?”

“I’m not sure…” he murmured. I frowned, waiting for him to go on. He looked up at me. “I liked the sausages,” he said. “You can’t tell them from the-”

WHACK!

“OW!”

“Give me something!”

“No!”

“Why can’t you tell me?” I yelled at him.

“Because I can’t!”

“I don’t-” I stop when I see him. His face was still, his mouth open slightly. “Daniel?”

Two hands grabbed my neck and jerked my head to the right. I heard the bones snap a second before the pain began.

My last thoughts? Not again…

I later returned to Delirium. When I woke up in Reality, I was taken to the sick bay to ‘recover’. No one was there, so I lay on the bed and dropped out. Daniel was sitting where I had died, his back to me. “Have you come up with a reason why?” I asked him.

He leapt up. “Yup. Still here.” I looked down at the ground. “Neck hurts a bit. Don’t die by breaking it. Actually, don’t die period.” I met his gaze. “You die, I die. And not just in Delirium. Not even Kaya would be able to stop me. Got it?”

Daniel just glares at me. “When was the last time you looked at me like that?” I pondered. I turned away from him and walked off.

Now, writing this, in the same space I ended up, I wonder if I meant that. Would I be able to live without Daniel?

I know if Delirium still existed, but Daniel was dead, the answer would be no. I wouldn’t be able to live on my own in a world full of monsters.

But if Delirium were to go away…

That’s something I’ve always thought about. If I had the opportunity to stop my hallucinations right then and there, would I? Would I be able to say goodbye to Daniel?

Saying goodbye, yes, I think. Maybe. I don’t know. If I were allowed one last moment with Daniel before my Delirium went away for ever…yeah. I’d be able to live with that.

What if it were more abrupt though? What if everything closed, and I never got to see Daniel again? What if this is the last time I’m in Delirium, and that’s the last I see of him, his face glaring at me as if he hated me? Maybe he does hate me. In that case, it would be okay.

I hear him coming, and I grab my books and hide. I’m high in the trees when Daniel comes into the clearing, looking for me. “Cat!” he yells. “Cat Madigan, come out here now!”

I don’t go, I just watch him. “Cat,” I flinch at his voice; he’s hurting. If I could go back in time, and change what happened; if I had killed him instead of trusting him, trusting him enough to be my closest friend, would it be easier than what I’m eventually going to have to do?

“Cat, I need to talk to you. Please, I…” His voice just trails off, and he keeps walking the other way. And I watch him go.

Silence of the Cat

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Here’s the challenge link . And now, here’s another tale of a mad Cat.

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It was hot and stuffy upon awakening. My skin was sticky, and I could smell something foul. When I try to move, my arms push against something scratchy and strong, which prevents me from extending my limbs. Encased in darkness and unable to move my arms or legs, I roll over onto my side. When I roll over once more though, I feel the earth slip out from beneath me, and I’m falling to the ground.

It hurts, and I can’t breathe for a moment. I’m lying on my stomach, and I realise there’s a small, cold object pressed against my mouth. I take it between my teeth and yank it down. Cool air rushes through the bag, and I take a huge gulp of it, before dragging the zipper lower. Eventually, my hand can wiggle up and grab it and pull it down all by myself. When I have enough space to do so, I lift my head out of the bag.

I’m not the only corpse here. An old man is decomposing in a dark corner, while in two bags next to me, the forms of two unknown people I’m assuming are human lie.

My last memories come back. I had died, again. It was fairly quick this time, and no one had slit my throat. There’s a bump on the head from where the metal bar struck.

I wonder if this is where they put the bodies. It’s hard to tell; in this prison, there’s rotting flesh in the living cells as well as the dead. Either way, they had no idea of what they locked up in here. Cat Madigan, undead warrior. In a way.

I look around in the dark, feeling around for objects and praying that my hand does not touch a bone or a rotting corpse. It’s some time before I return to my body bag, where I find the metal bar which put me there. It’s strange that they would put the weapon used to murder me in the same bag as my body, but then I hear footsteps, and I don’t bother questioning my good fortune.

I’ve hidden in a corner, and when the door opens, I’m concealed behind it. One of the monsters comes in, grunting as he pulls in a couple of human sized bags. To my amazement, he doesn’t see me, as I crouch behind the massive door. Clutching the weapon used to kill me, I decide to get my revenge.

He doesn’t live long enough to turn around. I strike him again and again, till I’m satisfied. Then I realise that the door would probably have been left open anyway. This is a room of corpses, and corpses don’t rise from the dead.

I slip out the door, leaving the monster with his victims, and I remember the words of Kaya. I keep in the darkness, the shadows are my friend as I navigate the gloomy prison. The only ones who see me are the prisoners. Their empty eyes stare out at me, but they won’t tell on me. I’m one of them, in a way.

Finally, I reach a place where I am certain Daniel will go. In this prison, there is a wall, which has been broken and melted, and has refused to be repaired. This is where the freak escaped, and where they realised their biggest mistake.

I’m not surprised when two guards come out of their shadows, one shoving his sword under my neck. I shiver at the sensation, and close my eyes, waiting for the sword to bite at my throat, piercing the skin.

But Daniel’s sword gets him first.

The other raises his sword at me and swings it down. I fling myself out of it’s way, and I snatch the little dagger Daniel throws to me. I cannot fight, I am useless at swords. But…

I dodge his blows one by one, and once I’m behind him, I rise the dagger.

I’m very good at cheating.

Even though I have little use for it, I pick up his sword before running out after Daniel, treading on his bloody body. I leap off the edge of the building, landing on a thick, leathery hide. It smells of sulphur and smoke, but it’s warm, and it makes me tired.

Then we fly.

Flowers and Lovely Crap

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I know, it’s a bit late, but here’s a post about Valentine’s Day three days late, because I had no Internet.

Valentine’s Day! Or as I prefer to name it, Cat-Madigan-Is-Forever-Alone Day!

I hate it.

If you had not picked that up from my current tone.

Last year I had actually been looking forward to Valentine’s Day, because I was dating Potch. He gave me the Evenstar. For those who don’t know what it is, google it.

Here’s some advice to guys looking for presents for their girlfriends. If your girlfriend is a Lord Of The Rings fan, she’ll love it. If she’s not, she’ll still love it. And if you, like me, are single on Valentine’s day with your imaginary friend, call me. We can have a marathon, and eat cookies.

So I had school on Valentine’s Day. For those who don’t remember, I go to an all girl school. That’s enough of an explanation as it is, but I’ll go into further detail anyway. Girls are in love with love. Love and romance. Love and flowers and boys who sparkle in sunlight. Yeah…those girls. And they all happen to be in my year. Yayyyyy.

And do you know what girls love even more than love? Showing off that they are loved, which means showing off how their rich boyfriend who looks like Harry Styles bought them a bucket load of roses, chocolates and all things pretty.

And that’s how Valentine’s Day is ruined for me. RUINED. I love it when people are in love. Love is beautiful, I love love. There. I’ve confessed it. My name is Cat Madigan and I’m a romantic. Now excuse me while I go vomit in a bucket.

What I don’t love is what the girls at school interpret as ‘love’. Today, in Children, Family and the Community, the girls were talking about- guess what- boys. More specifically, who they were going with to the River Cruise. For me, I’m really hoping that one of my guy friends will take pity on me and ask me to go with them. Papa Willis maybe, though he’s told me that Flash might want to go with me as friends. Who knows? Anyway, enough of my loveless predicament. The girls at my private school were rating their guy friends, and recommending them purely on looks. Here’s some snippets of conversation. “I can hook you up with Cooper, he’s a babe!” “Why aren’t you going with Liam? You guys hang out all the time” “Nah…I’m thinking of asking Peter, isn’t he cute?” …one moment.

So now that my vomit bucket is full, let me finish my little rant. Love, I feel, has been changed around to suit women. Well, when I say women, I’m speaking of whiney teenage girls. I think that the above explains what their values are. Girls expect a hot guy to fall in love with them and treat them like royalty, no matter what their flaws are. And these guys themselves have to be flawless. And rich. Did I mention cute? Either way, my point, I hope, is sort of clear. Valentines Day, and private girls schools, suck.

Of course, this is probably the ranting of a teenage girl who is pissed off that once again, nobody loves her.

Either way, I hope that everyone who reads this enjoys their Valentine’s day more than I have. So Happy Valentine’s day, nonexistent readers.

Now to go finish my sewing, by myself, on Valentine’s day. How appropriate…already preparing for spinsterhood.

Cat Madigan

Scarlet Cough

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Last time, on TAOCM…

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR!”

“…feeling better?”

“Much, thankyou.”

And now, the epic journey continues…

_________________________________________

“Daniel?”

I’ve just woken up in Delirium, once again. My last moments in Reality were spent on the run from another shadow, until he had thrown a bar at my head. The last thing I was thinking was that my friends were going to kill me. I had deserted them, again.

“Fuuuuuck,” I rolled over. Rock, cool uncomfortable rock. But there’s light, so I’m not a prisoner, thank god.

I hear footsteps, and I brace myself. When Daniel comes into view, I’m relieved. But then I see his face, and the man behind him.

I snarl. “What do you want?” I demand.

“I wasn’t aware she was part animal,” the fat man muses.

“I’m human,” I retort. “Isn’t that the same to you?”

“Temper, temper,” he says in what I think he intends to be soothing. Or he’s deliberately trying to rile me up even more. If the latter is the case, I don’t give him the satisfaction, but I glare at him, making it clear that he isn’t allowed to step one foot from where he is towards me. “I only want some questions answered.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“And are you going to answer them?”

“Will you give me a reason why I should?”

He smiles, and says in a dangerously low voice, “Mutts and freaks aren’t meant to be running around, my girl.”

I glance at Daniel, who inclines his head towards the fat man. I just sigh. “Ask what you will.”

He begins. “How long have you been acquainted with your friend Kaya?”

“We are not friends,” I say. “But I’ve known her since the beginning of last year. Perhaps longer.”

He raises an eyebrow, and when I don’t elaborate, he moves on. “And what do you know about her death?”

“As much as you would,” I reply.

“Which is?”

“Very little.” He flinches when I look at him. “But I do not blame her for wanting to die.”

“Why ever not?”

I raise my hand, the one with the scars that read FREAK. “There is little sympathy for us in this world,” I say.

The fat man recovers, and clears his throat. “May I say you speak eloquently, my lady. It’s hard to come by these days.” He looks meaningly at Daniel.

I refuse to accept the compliment. “I am not a lady. Do not address me as if I am royalty.”

“Many would relish that title,” he points out.

I raise an eyebrow. “Kaya was a lady,” I told him.

He moves on. “Would you care to give your insight on the incident with Kaya’s murderer?”

It wasn’t murder, I nearly spit out. I wonder if he hears my thoughts. I wouldn’t know by his face. It shows nothing. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Say what happened.”

“But I don’t know what happened. Not really.”

He looks at Daniel, and he returns to me with a smile on his face. “I have just one more question for you.” When I say nothing, he continues. “How many times have you experienced death?”

I shut my eyes and count. Fire, Drowning, Stabbing, those horrible treatments, and all those times on the Lake of Ghosts…. “A lot.”

“So why are you still here?”

I scoff. “Do you really think I have an answer?”

“I’m merely curious.”

I sigh. “As far as I’m concerned, this world is only in my head. When you die in a dream, you wake up in Reality, correct?”

“So why do you continue to return to the dream?” His tone is somewhat disproving, as if I was doing something wrong. Maybe I am. But it’s not as if I have control of it, do I?

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’m meant to do something in the dream. Maybe it’s not a dream. I keep asking myself that,” I muse.

“Do you believe we are merely a figment of your imagination?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” I confess. “But in all honesty…” Something you are far from capable of… “I think this world is too real to be a mere hallucination. I may think differently later, but that’s what I believe.”

He nods. “I’m interested in these…resurrections of yours. If you don’t mind, I’d like to do an experiment.”

The word experiment automatically unsettles me. “Don’t you dare…”

Daniel, who had been quiet this whole time, is suddenly in front of me, a blade raised in front of the fat man. “Don’t be so stupid Daniel,” he sighs. “I wouldn’t be as foolish to give her to them…”

Then I feel cool steel against my neck. “I can see it happen for myself, without their assistance Daniel. Don’t worry, if it is as you say, she’ll be back soon.”

Daniel flips around, horrified, and when the blade pierces my throat, he screams out.

I woke up in Reality. I wondered why I still had the taste of blood on my lips, even though Delirium was a world away. Then I coughed, and realised the taste of blood on my lips was actual blood.

I had been coughing up blood.

And then I saw him. He was a shadow, but somehow I knew it was him. “Get away,” I snarled.

He merely grinned, and slammed into me. “Ah!” God he’s fat… All of it overwhelms me; the events in Delirium, the sudden body slam from a man as large as a Snorlax (yes, that’s the only way I can describe it), and now, Kaya’s voice screaming in my head at the man, who is now climbing out of the bathroom, through the roof. Let me have control, she begged. I can take him, I can kill him, I can end him!

I nearly refuse, but I’m too weak, and I don’t want to feel the pain anymore. I let Kaya carry the taste of blood and my aching limbs.

She didn’t end up killing him. She was me, and I was weak. I wish to god I wasn’t. I wish that somehow I had some measure of strength in me.