Addicted

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Things I have been/am not currently addicted to:

1- Delirium. Can you really blame me? It was a place where I could be strong and courageous instead of weak and useless. It gave me the opportunity to be this unstoppable force, and there was no better feeling.

2- Junk food. Then I decided that I’d hate myself even more if I was fat as well.

3- Cutting. This was back when I first tried to kill myself. I still couldn’t feel after that, and it took Daniel to make me snap out of it, another more powerful addiction.

4- Cracking my knuckles. I was even younger when I had this habit. For some reason, I always did it while playing video games. I don’t anymore.
Things I’m afraid of getting addicted to. A much longer list.

1- Prescription Medicine. Hence why I don’t take it. Probably should, but I’m too scared of the potential side effects, not to mention my negative history with St Johns Wort.

2- Sex. It’s not that I’ve got a problem with it, I just worry about the situations I could potentially get myself in because of it. And I can only think of the problems that it would cause if, for some reason, I happened to be in a relationship.

3- Not-so-Prescription Medicine. Ie, drugs. Togami mentions occasionally that one day I’ll be interested in experimenting, but right now, I’m too scared of permanently fucking up my already fucked up mental state to try.

4- Alcohol. Not likely, considering how the taste of my first drink wasn’t that good. But if I find a nice tasting alcoholic beverage, then this is likely to change.

5- Self Harm. If I am in that place where I have to mutilate my body just to gain some twisted sense of fulfilment, I’m checking myself into hospital. The end.

6- Shopping. I really don’t have that much money that I can afford to splurge it on luxuries like shoes and tea and corsets. If I’m going to be able to move out of home, I need to moderate.

7- Violence. I know that I’ve got that streak inside me. Right now, it festers as passive-agressiveness. And that’s where I want it to stay.
What I’m currently addicted to:

1- Modelling. I like people thinking that I’m beautiful. I like thinking that I’m beautiful. But I’m only capable of being that in front of a camera, and god knows for how long.

2- Friends. Mainly because if I’m by myself for too long, I’ll remember all the various reasons why I hate myself, which can contribute to why I don’t have friends in the first place.

3- Daniel. Probably the one lifeline I actually have. But what sort of life am I going to have if I can’t live without my imaginary best friend?

4- Anxiety. I thrive on those panic attacks where I can feel everything, pain and pleasure. I love to feel my heart race, to gulp down freezing cold air, right before my breathing gives out and I collapse from the feel of everything.

5- Depression. When the anxiety attack I’m hoping for just won’t come, I’ll just go lower and lower until I hit rock bottom and it hurts. Because then I’ll finally remember what better feels like.

6- Love. The scariest drug of them all.

My whole existence is a series of addictions, one after the other.

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Insert Obligatory-Christmas-Post-Title Here

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First of all, Merry Christmas. I know it’s a day late, but I don’t really care. When it comes to Christmas, we usually celebrate it on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day. Christmas Day gets spent flying between cities.

Second of all, this is the first Christmas that I’m not spending with my cousins interstate, which has it’s ups and downs. Ups being that I don’t need to put up with jet lag or my paternal cousins who break everything I love. Downs being that I don’t get to see my other cousins in Sydney and watch the Doctor Who Christmas Special.

By the way, I like Capaldi. Not as much as I liked Matt Smith, but I like how they made a Doctor who questions himself and wonders if he’s ‘a good man’, now that he’s no longer charismatic and charming. What I don’t like now is Clara. I feel that as much as I like Twelve, he’s really not good for Clara. Or maybe Clara is just a worse person than they made her out to be when she was with Eleven. Either way, she just becomes so much more annoying this season; she lies to the Doctor and her boyfriend even after they realise eachother’s existence, and she just comes across as self righteous in everything that she does. Maybe that was their intention, but I found that no matter how capable Clara was, I just got tired of her being so ‘goody goody’ and preachy to the Doctor, who was having enough trouble figuring out his moral compass as it was, while being able to get away with her own bullshit because she’s Clara. It frustrated me how Danny was constantly fine with her lying to him and not even trying to be honest with him, which I guess made him more endearing to the audience, but I feel like Clara didn’t get any comeuppance for it, unless his death is somehow karma coming back to bite her in the ass.

Also, the Mistress. I called that shit.

Third (actual) topic on the agenda: The debate over whether 2014 was better than 2013. Let’s do that now.

Reasons why 2014 sucked

-Everybody DIED. And it fucking SUCKED.

-Two hospitalisations for suicidal ideation. One of which I don’t even remember.

-Delirium isn’t completely gone, even after I spent a year trying to stop it from coming back in my head. And yes, I’m working on writing about that, leave me alone.

-Still single, and have been so for a year. More if you count in Delirium time.

-Being forced to actually deal with my depression and anxiety instead of running away into the world in my head to kill monsters and be a badass. I miss being a badass. Even if it tore me out emotionally, it made me feel like there was something good about myself.

-Frigging. Humans. Stabbing. You. In. The. Back. Yes, I’m looking at you Delamore. And fuck you. If I’m not important enough to even say hello to, then you aren’t worth any more of my time. Also, sisters before misters. Remember that before you lose all your friends.

Okee, now that I’m done verbally abusing people, I’m going to list Everything that didn’t suck about 2014:

-I’ve been doing a lot more modelling than previous years, which is awesome. I’ve met so many people and done so many things that I would never have been able to do otherwise. And I’m in a place where I can organise my own projects with people I know, which is even more awesome.

-When I say that Delirium isn’t completely gone, I mean that my pesky imaginary friend/paramour still stays around to ‘protect’ me from myself. The actual world of Delirium, which I’ve spent the past few years falling into, hasn’t been apart of my life for the past few months. So now, there’s nothing holding me back from making a full recovery. This is a good thing.

-I’ve been getting more action this year than I did last year. Which is ironic considering how last year I was in two relationships and I’ve been single the whole of this year. As much as I enjoy being in a relationship, being single is surprisingly rewarding, despite how much I complain about it.

-A continuation on why it’s better now Delirium’s gone; I’m becoming more confident in my abilities. Things get a lot easier when you’re certain that everything around you is real. I’m confident enough that I’m now writing for a magazine as a volunteer writer. Some of my stuff has even been published. But I’m not going to post them up here in case my secret identity is revealed and it follows me for the rest of my life. Sawry.

So when all that is compared to 2013, where I had two relationships end, one suicide attempt, growing hallucinations and one stint at homelessness, things have gotten a lot better for me when you think about it.

Fourth item on the agenda; explaining shit.

Concerning the matter of Delamore and the reason surrounding my negative outlook on her. I suppose if I don’t explain it now, I probably never will, so I’ll give a brief explanation. If Delamore is reading this, I just want you to know that I read your messages to Bad Dog, and if you’re going to call me a self absorbed attention seeker behind my back, then I really don’t want to be your friend anymore, even if what I suspect about you isn’t true.

So what do I suspect you of? I think you’re a liar. I think you lied to Bad Dog, to Snugglepot, and to me. I think that you manipulate people to get your way and cut people out if they’re not important enough to you. I don’t care if you don’t want me in your life, but if you lie to me and go out of your way to hurt me, then I no longer have any reason to care about what happens to you. Just remember that. If you care enough to read about my life, that is.

So now I’ve finished talking to an imaginary Delamore, I’ll explain the situation. Snugglepot had a Halloween party and invited me at the last minute. Delamore, who was in charge of the guest list, hadn’t invited me, and didn’t even know that Snugglepot had added me at the last second till the day before the party. Later in the afternoon, Snugglepot informed me that Delamore said that at least ten people had threatened to not come to the party if I was coming, and so I shouldn’t come after all. So I spent the next few days depressed and humiliated. Until Papa Willis informed me that apparently this wasn’t the case at all. That people didn’t hate my guts and had refused to attend an event that I was going to. To be honest, I don’t know what to believe. Maybe Willis is wrong. But that’s the rundown of the situation.

Okay. Rant over. Goddammit, it’s Christmas. It’s not nice being pissed on Christmas.

Also, Togami. This is what happened. We’ve hung out a couple of times, and we disclosed to eachother that neither of us wanted to be in a relationship if we weren’t sure there was a chance of it being love. So we’re not going out.

We’re just fooling around instead.

Much to someone’s disapproval.

So that’s what’s happened. See? So much easier to explain. And with that, I believe it’s the end up this Christmas update.

“I don’t care. It’s your body. Do what you want.”

“Thankyou.”

“…don’t hurt yourself.”

“…I don’t plan to.”

“Does anyone?”

“I know…you’re saving me from myself.”

“Someone has to.”

“Shush.”

Watching

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“Hey, you must be Cat?” the man asks. He has honest eyes, steely blue and he smiles kindly.

“Hmm…”

“I understand you’ve been feeling down lately?”

An image of driving a needle into my arm enters my mind and I flinch. “I…guess you could say that.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be able to make you feel better,” he tells me certainly. “There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”

You’re not the first one to try and convince me, buddy. I just grimace and let them wheel me off into a cubicle enclosed by curtains. I’m already hating this place, and I wish to god that I had kept my mouth shut. Then Lolly wouldn’t have admitted me.

Daniel gives my hand a squeeze and I can only look at him helplessly. Personally, I’m about to implode, but all I can think about is how horrible he must be feeling, watching me lie on a hospital bed, crying for no reason. I keep smiling and telling him it’s okay, but the tears may be a bit of a contradiction, as he reminds me. Still, I’m glad he’s with me.

I go in to see the psychologist and her friend Tig the nurse. “I’ve got a brother called Tig,” I tell him. I leave out the fact that he’s a thieving little shit who causes my mother to have emotional breakdowns.

After millions of questions which I’m lacking in energy to answer, they tell me their recommendation; I should stay in this hospital for a night or two and undergo a mental assessment.

Three hours later, I’m thinking Fuck this place.

The thing with hospitals is that people are used to pain. It’s nothing for them to see a teenager with tears streaming down her face huddled in a ball on the bed. And they ignore it, because there’s worse people than you right now. I get it, I really do. It doesn’t stop it from hurting though.

Nurse Priscilla comes in and tells me of the situation. The Mowa Ward, where they wanted to take me, is full at the moment, meaning I could be here for a few hours. She also offered me antidepressants to take the edge off what I was feeling. Remembering the effects of the St Johns Wort, I declined, and watched her give me a funny look.

They let me call people here, but I can’t use Internet. So I call the only two numbers on my iPad worth keeping. Papa Willis doesn’t answer, but Flash does. When I tell him I’m in hospital, his mind leaps to the worst scenario, and he asks me what I did to myself. I quickly reassure him that I’m okay, I’m just there for observation, and he calms down. He tells me that he’s so happy I’m okay, and for that moment, I felt a peacefulness that had been absent since I first entered hospital.

Then the fucking phone disconnected and the nurse took it off me. Bitchface. Never trust anyone named Tig.

I talk to another nurse for a while. I actually like her. She knows how horrible I feel, and she seems to hate hospitals as much as I do. She offers to bring me some ‘gourmet’ food, and I agree, remembering too late that food in this hospital is incompatible with my picky eating habits.

“Want a sandwich?” I hold the plate of cheese and salad sandwiches out to Daniel. He just raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, me neither.”

“When was the last time you ate?” he questions suspiciously.

“That would be lunchtime.”

“You didn’t have lunch.”

“Wait, I bought a chocolate before I caught the train,” I pointed out. “So it was after lunchtime. And I had a cup of tea.”

He doesn’t look impressed. “I’m not eating the sandwiches.” I fold my arms.

“I’m not making you,” he replies. “The nurses however…”

“They can’t force me to eat. I’m not anorexic.”

“You are suicidal.”

“That’s not the correct term, but whatever. It’s not a matter of not wanting to eat, it’s the fact that there’s nothing good to eat. I’ll prove it.” I begin drinking the apple juice. “See? I’m consuming sugars. This gets converted into glucose. Glucose gives me energy to have more nervous breakdowns. It also helps me stay alive, which I am now proving that I want to do.”

“I never took you for a picky eater.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I always thought that you were someone who took what you got and dealt with it.”

I just stick my tongue out at him. “Want the list?”

“Sure, why not?”

This conversation is somehow distracting me from bursting into tears, so I continue. “With me, I’m fine with anything as long as it’s warm. Toasted sandwiches are fine. The only cold sandwiches I’ll eat are peanut butter ones.”

He laughs at that. “Peanut butter?”

“Don’t diss peanut butter!” I pretend to be outraged. “Peanut butter was my childhood, I’ll have you know.”

“Very well, very well. So cold food is off the table.”

“Well, cold meats. I hate cold ham and cheese. It turns my stomach.”

“What about vegetables?”

“I prefer them cooked, but I’ll force down some salads. But I love roast vegetables. Carrots, tomatoes, potatoes, pumpkin. And hot broccoli and cauliflower is wonderful. Like I said, if it’s hot, I’m usually happy to eat it.” I wrinkle my nose. “Avocado is off the table. But there’s a legitimate reason for that; I’m allergic.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…I get violently ill if I eat it. My brother once gave it to me on pizza, and I vomited on him.”

“Sure that wasn’t on purpose?”

“The projection of the vomit was. Actual urge to vomit was not.”

“So that’s it?”

“Well, there’s sweet food as well,” I told him with a grimace. “I hate very sweet food, like donuts. I despise alcohol in Ether; not only is it very potent, but it’s horribly sweet.”

“How on earth do you survive in our world?” he asks incredulously.

“Immortality. And rat steak. Lots of rat steak.” It’s actually not bad, once you get around the idea of eating rats. Plus they’re a lot larger in Delirium than in Reality. The meat’s softer and more bitter than beef steak, but it smells really good when cooked properly.

“Kaya used to try catch rats in Delirium,” Daniel remembers. “She had more success with fish though. Rats were harder to kill without them rotting immediately.”

“Didn’t you have a go a hunting?”

“At the time, I pretty out of it. I’d just been broken out by a giant dragon and I had no idea where I was. I just ate what I was given.”

“Fair enough. I wish we could eat fish…”

“Fish is Helevian food,” Daniel points out, rolling his eyes. “Christan hasn’t even seen one, let alone eaten one.”

“True…but still. Fish hasn’t changed too much from Reality. I think I’d prefer it to rat steak. Plus it would probably be better for me.”

I’m vaguely aware of the nurses watching me as I have this conversation with my imaginary friend. But it’s the only thing keeping me in Reality, these conversations. They almost manage to convince me that things can go back to normal after this nightmare.

Nurse Priscilla comes back and takes my blood pressure. Again, she offers me medication. I deny again. I don’t trust myself to judge whether or not I need sedation, nor do I have any idea of what they’re going to do to me head-wise. What if they get rid of Daniel? Then I’d really be alone…

This makes me start crying again. I just want my friends, to be around people I love. I’m banned from Delirium, and I’m locked away from everyone I care about in Reality. I wish I’d never come here. I want to go home, wherever the hell that is.

The Stuff That Has Gone Down In Reality

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Yes! I haven’t posted for ages. In my own defence, I’ve had very little time for writing, and I’ve got very good reasons why. It’s been nearly two weeks since I posted, and so much has happened, both in Reality and Delirium.

So let’s go! Starting with Reality. Because I’ve written a lotta stuff about Delirium, stuff which is not going to go to waste. And no Bad Dog, there’s no smut, so don’t even go there.

Okay…Reality.

Exams

Erghhhhh, I’m dying here. So far I’ve finished my Literature exam and my Religion exam. Literature was okay, however, I found myself doing the same thing I do for every essay, which is repeat the same thing over and over again to make sure my point gets across. Either way, I think I did okay. Hopefully it’s at least a C. And Religion was better than expected, though I really don’t know how well I did. I could’ve done awesomely (which would only happen if the one marking my exam was a bit tipsy) or I could’ve done absolutely shitty. But I answered all the questions. Just not sure if I answered them the right way.

Tomorrow is Human Bio and Maths. On the same day. And I regret not going to school today and studying. You see, when you don’t have an exam, you don’t have to turn up at school. Which is great. But I really need to study for Human Bio and Maths, because I’ve missed a lot of lessons due to Delirium. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve missed plenty of other subjects too. But unlike Lit and Religion, I can’t just conjure something out of my incredibly vivid imagination, I need to learn facts. And looking back now, had I been given a choice, I definitely would’ve gone to school to study.

Unless mum was there too. Fortunately that’s not allowed, otherwise mum would always turn up at school, screaming at me to clean my fucking room.

Mum has been refusing to let me study. Well, she goes through a process about it. Step 1, she asks “Can you clean your room if you have time?” Step 2, she comes in and yells at me because my room’s not clean. This happens usually ten minutes after Step 1. When I object to this, she can take two paths. Step 3A is to refuse to believe that I’m studying, because obviously, I’m on my iPad! Which happens to have my fucking textbooks on it. Or she can choose the other option, Step 3B, which is essentially a guilt trip. You can kind of visualise it, you know those arguments your parents give you that begin with “When I was your age”? It’s like that, only far less effective because it’s far from logical. Mum says something along the lines of “When I was your age, it didn’t matter if I finished exams or not.” Or something like that. Having another world in your head is extremely tempting at times like that…

Modelling

Had another photoshoot on Sunday. Theme was Apocalypse, but for once, I had had enough of zombies (gasp!). Instead, I was going as the Grim Reaper. Which was fricking awesome.

What was even more fricking awesome was the death scythe one of the Props guys made me. It wasn’t real, but it looked it. Best $55 I had ever spent. EVER. When I was carrying it around, I scared a few photographers and models. On the side, Daniel told me ‘Your Cat Madigan is showing’, which made me remember that I was still in Reality. It also reminded me that I shouldn’t stick my tongue out at what would look like an empty space to ordinary humans.

Highlight of the shoot was when I got together with one of the zombies and took him for a walk in the city. After locating a leash, the Grim Reaper went skipping down the alleyway with her pet zombie in tow, where they proceeded to traumatise many a childling. ‘Twas a wonderful day. Not so much for the little kids, but yeah.
The photos are looking pretty cool so far, I’m still waiting for the rest to be posted. There’s another photoshoot next Sunday, theme is Autumn. Still awaiting other photos from a test shoot I did and a glamour one. Why do photographers take so long….

Oh, and also, I did a fashion show where I got my hair coloured. The colour’s not that different, but it shows in the sunlight. It’s just a colour rinse. And I got to wear a wedding dress, though to be honest, I wouldn’t wear it to my own wedding, though I’d definitely want to wear it around the house. Liquid silk feels really nice… But anyway, it was 1920s themed, and though it was very pretty, it reminded me that I had no boobs and no waist when I looked at it in the mirror. Sure, I looked skinnier, but it gave me more of a boyish look.

Not that I’d ever get married anyway.

No, Daniel.

“What? You wish to live in sin for the rest of your life?”

“Pfffft. Sin, schmin. Besides, I promised Delamore not till 23.”

“I thought that was for virginity.”

“Hmm…you’re right. I should ask her about that. Actually, nah. She’d want to come to the wedding.”

“Let’s just agree that our relationship is fine the way it is and move on. Preferably before you start going on about wedding dresses.”

“I don’t go on about them, I just draw them.”

Moving. On.

“Fine.”

X

My second cousin Xenia came to stay for two weeks three weeks ago. I’d met her once at Christmas last year, but that was the only time if had met her before she stayed with us. She’s 19, three years older than my Reality self, but barely months older than my real age. There was enough resemblance between us that we could tell that we shared some genetic material, but that only extended to our hair and our tiny hands.

Mum said she was prettier than me, and she was probably right. She had nice brown eyes and light brown skin with no freckles or scars on it. Personally, I think mum liked Xenia because she wasn’t a kleptomaniac or a schizophrenic, not to mention she was an obedient daughter to her own parents, as an only child. Xenia grew close to mum when she first came, as Tig and I were always at school.

I never knew much of what she thought of me. I knew what she thought of my brother; Tig was always mouthing off about Mum, and she yelled at him, saying that she wanted to slap him. She and I barely interacted though, outside our family outings. The most we talked was when we went to an art exhibit in Rockingham on the beach, and I started using my artist/Literature skills to deduce the meanings behind the various sculptures before us.

“What does Indulgence mean?” she asked, when we approached several giant cupcake sculptures.

“I think…” I tried to put it as simply as I could. “It means to…take pleasure in something. Like…eating cupcakes. You take pleasure in eating- HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!”

I had thought that the long things sticking out of the cupcakes were meant to be wafers, but upon closer inspection, the end of the ‘wafer’ was shaped like a foot, which meant… “Legs,” I gasped. Xenia watched me incredulously as I started laughing. “There’s legs in the cupcake!” I crowed. “Oh my god…”

“You are strange,” Xenia said.

“Thankyou,” I returned. “Do you want to hear what this means?”

She looked back at the statue and stared at in quiet unease. “I don’t really want to…” she announced. “I liked it better when it was just ordinary cupcakes.”

We got along okay, but we never really bonded much, not like she and Mum seemed to anyway. She liked my drawings, well, the ones which weren’t of psycho zombie dragons, and she came to my modelling events with mum, but we never had much of a private conversation about things. She was pretty solitary when it came to our family, and I was up in the clouds most of the time. I also found her a bit too much like my mother to trust her much, even though she was from my father’s side of the family.

There was one time though, at the bus stop in the city. She came with me, as she was going on a tour to see the pinnacles, and she had to catch the ferry in the city. We didn’t speak on the bus, but when I got off, I felt horrible suddenly and stumbled off, grabbing onto the fence to keep steady. Daniel was there in a heartbeat, and helped me calm down from my panic attack. I was nearly in tears, but I finally stopped shaking.

“Cat?” Xenia said, and that’s when I realised she was right there, watching me. I looked up. “Are you alright?” she enquired.

“I’m fine,” I said.

She frowned, but didn’t say anything for a while. I was walking her to the ferry when she asked again. “Was that your…” She searched for a word. “Episode?”

“…yeah, little bit.”

“What…is it is?”

After hesitating, I decided to tell her. It was a word that she would most likely forget later on anyway. “Schizophrenia,” I told her. “Or some form of it.”

“Oh. How bad?”

I took that as a sign that she didn’t know what it was. Good. “Pretty bad,” I told her. “I…I don’t have long.”

Xenia frowned. “I thought…it was because of your mother.” I was puzzled. “She hit you across the face last night,” she went on. When my eyes widened, she smiled. “Your cheek is a little red,” she said.

“Right.”

“Are you alright?”

I gave a bright smile. “No.”

I left her at the ferry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her about it. It’s just that I didn’t think she’d understand. She seemed so positive about things, always talking about how thankful for life we should be, and she was so close to Mum that I didn’t think she’d believe half the things I had to say. Or maybe she would believe them, and take them straight to Mum, the last person I wanted to know.

We got along. That’s all I can say.

So that’s it from Reality. I’m trying to catch up on the things from Delirium as best as I can. It’s gotten quiet again, so hopefully I’ll be able to catch up.

Also, Mum found her phone and apologised for belting my across the face.

Till next time.

The One You Should Fear

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Okay…so this is what happened.

After Taste the Whip, I couldn’t remember anything. I had just woken up in Daniel’s room like nothing had happened. And Daniel acted like nothing had happened too, so I had thought that maybe nothing had happened. Like, maybe it was just a dream.

Of course, I knew better than that. But there was another part of me, a larger part, which persuaded me that to not know might be the safer option. Because what could be so bad that my mind had blocked it completely?

I had finished my shift at volunteering when I was approached. I knew it was him, even though I didn’t dare look at him. The room just became colder, as it always did when he entered.

“I would sit down if I were you,” he informed me.

“Why?”

“Because it would shock your patrons less if you fell asleep on a chair than if you fall asleep mid step,” he said smoothly.

Cautiously, I did as he said. “Make it quick, I’m needed elsewhere.”

He just laughed. And when I closed my eyes and reopened them, I was in the empty college. The same in The Rage of a Cat. “Any significant meaning to this?” I asked. “Do you want me to try and kill you again?”

“I’m not going to bother anymore,” he told me cheerfully. “I know what you are and I know what you can do.”

“Are you a coward?”

“No. It’s just that I hate dying as much as you do. Especially when one has to do it over and over again.”

I grimaced. “As if I had any choice.”

“You always do.”

Don’t look him in the eye, Daniel had always told me. Not if you want to start your slow, painful demise.

So I looked.

The left of his face was falling to pieces, the skin speckled with green mold. His blue hair was falling out and his teeth were nothing more than chipped pieces. His eyes…

Well, in his case, eye. Daniel was literal when he said that. It had no pupil, it was just a white ball rolling around in his head. Disgusting, isn’t it? a voice said merrily, and I realised his voice was now in my head.

“Get out.”

As you wish. His broken mouth spread into a giant grin. “Impressed yet?”

My hands grew hot. “Is that why you brought me here? To show off?”

“I’m here to make an offer.”

Immediately I was wary. “An offer? And what would that entail?”

“How would you like to remember what happened?” he asked. “Would you like to know why everyone doesn’t mention it?”

“I can already guess,” I told him. “I did things I wasn’t proud of, and I’ve blocked them from my head. And everyone else has the decency not to bring it up.”

He scoffed. “And you’re fine with this.”

I thought of everything I have done, everyone whose lives I’ve ended, everything I’ve destroyed. “So you’re afraid then,” he concluded. “You don’t want to remember.”

“Exactly. I am unstable as it is. To bring up repressed memories now wouldn’t be the wisest option.” I glared at him. “I would like to go back.”

“This isn’t just about your memories, Cat Madigan,” he growled suddenly. “This is about everything you don’t know. So many secrets, so much hidden knowledge. This world has many things that you don’t know.”

“So?”

“One example; Daniel.” He grinned as I flinched at the mention of him. “How much does he keep from you, Cat Madigan? This isn’t the first time he’s kept something from you, is it? And yet you trust him inexplicably.”

“Not inexplicably,” I objected.

He just smiled. “Liar,” he hissed. “Despite all these secrets, you continue to trust him. But what if he was the one you should actually fear?”

“He’s not,” I insisted.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I am!” I growled. “I am the only person I am afraid of, and I am the one you should be fearing right now!” My hands were red hot, ready to fry him.

He just laughed. “I underestimate you, Miss Madigan,” he said to me.

I woke up immediately the words came out of his mouth. I was on the couch, and no one had noticed, so I got up and quickly left the soup kitchen.

School was just across the road, so I went across and met up with my friends. Things were good. Bad Dog was talking about her ex boyfriend (who, by the way, is an asshole, just to let you know, Bad Dog, AGAIN,) and how he said something along the lines of how talking to me was like talking to two different people, (though I’m pretty sure he’s only talked to me once).

Either way, it was weird. But it was a nice weird. The familiar weird which you don’t really care about.

Then I felt him again. “What do you want now?” I whispered.

“I’ve decided something,” he told me, his voice right next to my ear.

“And what is that?”

Something sharp pierced my neck. “You are the dangerous one.”

It was a needle.

“No…”

Suddenly, I was in hell.

Fear the Freak

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I have a new name to add to the many I listed in The Many Names Of Cat Madigan.

Mistress.

I was in class when it started. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large black mass that could only mean that something was going to happen. I left class immediately, murmuring an excuse. I walked past, he started following me. I ignored him until we entered the bathrooms, empty because of class. “You have a lotta nerve,” I told him, in the most threatening voice I could muster.

“That’s no way to talk to me, Lady Madigan,” he replied. “Perhaps I should leave Daniel to die?”

“Now you’ve got my interest,” I said. “You see? If you had given me hint of that, we wouldn’t be here.”

“It matters not, right now.” He and I start walking away as a bunch of students start walking over to where we are.

“So where will I be going this time?”

“Somewhere new,” he said. “Daniel brought you in with him, but no one knows who you are, or where you are.”

“How did he do that?”

“You’ll find out. When you get there, I’m going to need you to find out information about our little intruders,” he told me. “Someone had sheltered them here, and I want to know who.”

I said nothing at that. “Any questions, Lady Madigan?” I shook my head. He nodded. “Start asking the women, they’ll tell you anything,” he informed me. “And go from there. If you get caught, they won’t kill you, but it won’t be pretty either.”

“Why is Daniel going to die?” I demanded.

“Oh, of course. Daniel is there as well, but unfortunately, he was asking too many questions and they’ve locked him up somewhere. That’s another thing you have to do, though honestly that’s more of an optional extra.” His voice was barely containing that smug undertone. “Will you go now?”

“After you,” I said to him. I didn’t trust him to be left alone with Kaya, especially when she’s in a bad mood. She had found out about the corset.

He vanished. I went to the disabled stall, the largest one in the bathroom and sat down.

When I woke up, things were remarkably familiar. It was dark and stuffy, and only a slight bit of air coming through. I was in a bag again. Great.

This one was easier to escape. All I had to do was untie a single strap and I could step out.

I felt around, looking for some indication of where I was. I touched soft fur and ran my fingers across lace, until I found one part of the wall which I could push away.

I stepped out, and looked at one of many closets I had just stepped out of. The euphemism didn’t escape me, but before I could chuckle, I realised I could hear other people.

I turned around. A large curtain separated me from them. If I had been more innocent than I was, I would’ve pulled back the curtain. But I soon recognised the sounds, and I recoiled.

I was in a brothel.

People were having sex within earshot of me.

Oh…..cock.

I looked down. My school uniform was probably the least appropriate attire for this place, but I didn’t have anything else.

Then I remembered the closet. I went back, looking at the contents. There was only one outfit in there, and it reminded me of a straitjacket. Great. Well, that had to do.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a female voice said behind me. Directly behind me.

I froze, and she chuckled. “I know what you are,” she murmured, her lips tracing the back of my neck. “And I know they’re hunting you and your little friends. Oh no, they’re not here,” she told me. “One of our Meeks let them go. Stupid girl. On the plus side, now that you’re here…” She gripped my shoulder. “Maybe I can get back into m’lord’s good books if I hand you over.”

“I’m not like them,” I told her. “I think I know who ‘m’lord’ is, and I think you’ll find that he knows me, and will not be pleased that you gave me away.”

Her seductive laugh was right next to my ear, her hot breath tickling my neck. “Oh, you are cute,” she whispered. “Those three were pathetic, but I could definitely have some fun with you…”

I turned around. “I think you don’t know who I am,” I said to her, raising my hand. The one that says F R E A K, the letters glowing with heat.

She flinched at the sight, and turned to run. She wasn’t fast enough though, and the second she turned around, I caught her around the neck, my burning letters searing her neck. She gasped. “Not a sound,” I warned. “You can handle the pain. I don’t want any trouble, and I’ve killed too many people already, and I really don’t want to get into the double digits. I just want to find my friend. Compri?”

She hissed. “Fine.”

I release her neck, but I have a death grip on her arm. “Where can I find the woman who helped the intruders?” I demanded.

She glared at me. “Try the cells. That’s where the Meeks usually go.”

“What exactly is a Meek?”

“Meek, submissive,” she told me.

“Oh…” I understood then. “And you would be…”

“I’m a Fury,” she said. “Dominant.”

“Thanks. One more thing.” I hadn’t entirely forgotten my school uniform. I needed something else.

And there wasn’t anything in that closet…

“Take off your clothes,” I told her.

“That costs extra,” she replied, not missing a beat.

I raised my hand again. “Fine,” she sighs. She takes off her own uniform, a red sheer lace corset and her tight black pants. Once she was stripped, I pulled on the pants and slipped off my school dress. When I struggled with the corset, she sighed, and hooked it for me. “Amateur,” she said, tightening the laces.

“Thank you. You’re quite cooperative,” I noted.

“I changed my mind,” she told me. “I’m happy to help now.”

“I thought you were a Fury, not a Meek.”

“You learn quickly.” She laughed again. “I like you Miss Madigan. Yes, I do know who you are now,” she informed me. “People tell you a lot of things here, and your name has slipped out a couple of times.”

I grimaced. “You would do well here,” she continued. “You’d be a wonderful Fury, if you weren’t so shy.”

“Who said I’m shy?”

Immediately her hand slid down between my legs. “Whoa!” I half-shrieked. I span around. “No! Not cool!”

She just smirked. “You were saying?”

I sighed, and I picked up a piece of red fabric in the closet. I started tying it around my face, leaving only my eyes uncovered. It fell down past my shoulders, so I wrapped the extra fabric around my neck. “Do I look the part?” I asked.

She nodded. She was still standing there, naked. I frowned. “Are those real?” She grinned in response. “…never mind.” I turned to the curtain. “Thankyou…whatever your name is.”

“You forgot something.” When I turned around, she handed me a long thin object. “Anyone asks, just whip them into shape.”

“Thanks.” Whip in one hand, and whatever courage I could muster in the other, I stepped through the curtain.

Tears and Why I Shed Them

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“Please tell me you know why you’re crying,” Daniel says to me.

“….”

“Okay then…what did one of your friends say now?”

I just sigh and show him. “Right.” Daniel cracks his knuckles and flexes his hands. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t.”

“Why? I think Flash should apologise.”

“It’s my own fault Daniel, it’s fine.”

“NO IT IS NOT!” he yells suddenly. “It is not okay!”

“Calm down,” I plead.

“No, I will not. You know why?” He refuses to wait for an answer. “Tell me, when was the last time you spoke back to someone?”

“…”

“Precisely Cat Madigan. So…we should do something about it.”

I already feel a pit of dread growing in my stomach. “No…”

“Stop being a chicken.”

“I’m not a chicken! I just don’t want to lose a good friend.”

“You can do without him, you silly girl.”

“He’s my friend!”

“Cat, what is that falling down your face?”

“Evidence of severe emotional instability.”

“That reminds me….” With that, Daniel disappears.

“Daniel?” I look around my bedroom. “Daniel where are-”

And that’s when everything changed.

My arms hurt, but I couldn’t move them. They were held behind my head by chains attached to the ceiling. I hate them… Struggling hurts more. “LET ME OUT!” I scream. “LET. ME. OUT!”

I could feel him behind me. It wasn’t Daniel, Daniel was warm, you could feel the heat radiating from his body from a couple of steps away; this stranger was cold. Daniel smelt of rain and smoke. The stranger smelt of death.

And I knew him.

“It’s not her,” I tell him. “It’s Cat, my name is Cat, not Kaya, do you understand? Please.” I know what happens next, I’ve seen it happen, I’ve seen it happen to her. Then I realise. “It doesn’t make a difference does it? You would’ve known it wasn’t me, just like I immediately knew you weren’t Daniel…”

I hear him walking, and I finally see him out the corner of my eye. He’s only two steps away from me, but even then I can’t make him out clearly. I just see dark mangy hair.

Then he speaks. “Freak,” he growls.

My head is on fire, and my body slumps. I hang by my arms, only wanting it to stop. “Freakish girl, girl with two faces,” he hisses at me.

“I know what I am,” I croak out, and a wave of pain surges through. Don’t you scream, Cat.

Do you really?” he muses. There’s silence, and I don’t know what he’s thinking, but the pain stops.

And the light vanishes.

Oh no… Focusing, I manage to keep my breathing steady, he will not see me afraid. Kaya might be proud, I think.

All that changes when his nails are digging into my stomach, his mouth snarling down my ear, his icy skin absorbing any heat from my body. I can’t help it, I scream. And his hands, with impossible fingernails as long as knives, dig deeper.

I see blood again. Red, not black, I note. How?

Just before he rips out my organs, I wake up, and I’m coughing and spluttering. More than that, I’m sobbing. I now know why I’m crying, I think, my internal words twisted and bitter. Happy now Daniel?

I can move my hands, and they touch where the monster’s claws were. It hurts when I touch it, but the skin is unbroken.

“Stay with me,” I whisper out loud, to no one.

I go to bed alone, and I pretend to be asleep when I hear him. He curses himself and he eventually climbs in after about ten minutes of panicking. “Forgive…” His voice pleads.

Mercy…the one act separating humanity from becoming monsters. I roll over and look at Daniel; for once, he needs comfort instead of me. “Shhhh,” I tell him, like he often tells me. “Shhhh.”