Alive

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I mechanically slipped the loop over my head, and pulled in the buckle to make it fit my neck. I walked over to the hinge on the door, and tossed the strap through the gap and over. I held the other end and gulped. Pull. 

I hoisted myself up, and clipped the end of the strap to my noose in one fell swoop. I closed my eyes. Sleep.

I was floating in space again, in the universe that I created. Dust and rock floated past me, the shadows swarmed around me. It was warm, not like Reality, which was steadily becoming colder and colder. 

Then someone shouted my name.

I woke up, struggling to breath. Of course, that was my intention. The banging coming from the other side of the door jolted me, causing my body to swing. Instinctly, I tried to regain my footing; but I was two, maybe three feet off the ground, dangling from my bag strap. 

I knew at once that I couldn’t do this to him. I couldn’t hurt him like this. I tried to unclip myself, but tugging on the strap only swung me around more, choked me more. I looked down. The lock. I attempted to reach it with my hand; bad idea. Desperately, I moved my foot to it, and pushed the lock down, and there was a click. 

Daniel barged in, slamming me and the door against the wall. I would’ve cried out at the pain if I had air to do so. When he saw me, his face twisted into a horrified expression. Immediately, he grabbed me and hoisted my body up. “How do I untie you?” he demanded. It was then that he noticed the clip. He held me up against the door, lifting me with his left arm, as he unclasped the makeshift noose with his free hand. 

He lowered me to the ground and loosened the bag strap, sliding it off. I just closed my eyes, ignoring his yells. I was too numb. Far too numb. 

Until I’d heard sobbing. I opened my eyes. Daniel was huddled over, tears streaming down his face. No… I crawled over to him, reached out to touch him.

He flinched. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Please don’t cry. Daniel…”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I spent the rest of the day in the hospital. Eventually they took me home, blaming it on the medication. And I locked myself in my cupboard, forbidding myself from seeing light.

I am a monster. 

I sobbed and screamed without letting out a sound. My parents knocked on the door occasionally to make sure that I was still alive, and I created a handy bulge in my bed to create the illusion that I was under the covers in case they came in.

How could I do that? Why would I even think about hurting Daniel in such a way? Not just him either. Willis, Flash, Bad Dog, Evil, Snugglepot. Fucking hell. I didn’t even deserve to be human.

Worthless, Inconsiderate, Selfish, Whore, Bitch.

Finally, I slept. It was cold, but I had slept in worse conditions than a closet. I should be back there, freezing to death. No, that’s not good enough. I need worse. I should have my head sliced off again, or get stabbed millions upon millions of times. Or I should be sent back to that brothel to be tortured. Neck snapped. Drowning, again. Throat slit. Something. Maybe all of those.

Suddenly, I was warm.  

I knew who it was. “Don’t Daniel,” I croaked. 

He ignored me. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” I hissed. “Just leave me there, okay?”

He kept walking, with me in his arms. He dropped me on the bed and pulled the covers over me before walking out of my bedroom.

Promptly, I got out and walked back into the closet, closing the door behind me. Instantly, it opened, and he grabbed my arm. “Bed,” he growled.

“I’m sleeping here.”

“That’s mature of you.”

“Just leave me alone, okay?” I cried, wrenching myself free and slamming the closet door. 

It opened again. “Don’t be stupid,” he insisted. “You can sleep here.”

“You know that I can.”

“And you know that this is foolish,” he retorts.

I closed the door again. When it opened, I kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying. I immediately shut it, hearing his grunt and curse from the other side. He didn’t open the door again though.

Good.

The pain flooded through me, and I collapsed onto the closet floor, tears coming back again. I needed this. This was only a teaspoon of what Daniel must’ve been feeling like when he found me. Jesus, how many times has he found me in similar predicaments? Getting choked by a shadow. Beaten to a pulp by my mother. Lying on the bathroom floor coughing out water. Cutting my thighs with a razor. I deserve all this.

Then I heard him speak, from behind the door. “I know what you’re doing.” 

I remained silent. He sighed. “You’re feeling guilty.”

No shit Sherlock.

“And you’re trying to make me go away so that you can suffer by yourself,” Daniel continued. “Because you believe that you deserve to. But that’s wrong.”

Liar.

“Kicking me won’t make me think of you badly. Because that’s the only reason why you did it, so I’d hate you.”

I hit you in the beginning. When we first became friends.

“That’s the one thing about you. You’re so careful about everyone’s reactions that you calculate your every move. That’s why I know that you’re doing this to drive me away. Because you’re usually so deadly afraid of being violent towards someone you care about. And I know you do care. You let that slip today in the bathroom.”

I kept my mouth closed. I heard Daniel sigh. “I don’t hate you,” he told me. “I never would. I just want you to be safe…and I thought that was going to be possible without Delirium in your life. But…” His voice trailed off.

I curled into a ball on the ground, huddling under my clothes. Eventually, he spoke again. “Do you still need me?” he asked me. “Is there any reason for me to still be in your life?”

My heart lurched at the question. No was the right answer, the deadly logical side of me said. He’s part of Delirium, he doesn’t belong here. The longer you hold onto Daniel, the more you’ll be dragged away from the real world. And then you’ll never be normal. Say goodbye. NOW.

“I…” I found myself speaking for the first time since Daniel had began talking. I had to say it. Otherwise…. “I…” 

Send him away. Move on.

No.

So you’re going to be a freak that talks to herself for the rest of her life?

If he wants to leave, I’ll let him go. But he is the one person who has stood by me despite everything. And I’m not going to let pride get in the way, not this time.

“Of course I do,” I choked, sobbing again. “I…you’re….you’re the only person left that knows me for who I really am. And yet…you’re here.” I held onto the door handle and pulled myself up. “And I really don’t know why.”

The door opened and I was brought out into the light. Daniel stumbled backwards, as if he had been expecting me to be holding it back. His face was puffy and his eye was shining from tears. “But I love you,” I told him. “I know that. I know that I love you and I need you by my side, because…I want you to see me become a better person. I want you to see me be happy, and not post-breakdown-adrenaline-induced happy, but actually happy, and alive.” For the first time in what seemed like eternity, I smiled. It was an utterly broken smile, and the tears probably ruined it, but I didn’t care. “Is that…something you’d be interested in staying around for?”

Daniel stared at me before laughing weakly. “You and your moodswings,” he whispered. 

“Yours are worse.”

He laughed again. “And I’d love to. You being alive and happy sounds wonderful.”

Wonderful,” I mimicked him.

“Shush.”

I took his hand.

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Black Cat’s Ugly Head

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Mummy, I’m bleeding! the child shrieked as I landed with a thud.

Slowly, I staggered up, dusting myself off, ash and debris everywhere. “Was that really necessary?” I asked angrily.

Temper, temper.

Temper my ass. “What do you expect me to do?”

Why on earth would I give you directions? How boring!

“…of course,” I mumbled. “Well, it’ll be boring if I just stand here doing nothing, won’t it?”

Suddenly, a mass of light was launched at my face, and I stumbled backwards to avoid it. “Fuck!” I hissed. It was then that I was aware of him laughing. “Shut up Neekah,” I growled.

What do you know? I’m having fun! His voice was cheerful, though it still had that sinister undertone.

I got up. “So that’s your plan? Throw fireballs at me while I struggle to figure out what to do? From past experience, that stuff gets old over time.”

Didn’t stop you.

I just shook my head. “Movement…movement…” I got my legs to start walking in the darkness. Step one achieved, now to do stuff. I felt my hand prickle as a faint glow extended from it. The light didn’t touch anything, but it would hopefully stop me from walking into anything. Seek a way out, I told myself. So I began to walk forward, in the direction where the light came from previously.

Cold…cold…colder…. he said petulantly.

I rolled my eyes and nearly walked into a doorway. Hot! Hot now!

“You really don’t know how to play this game,” I informed him, trying the handle. Locked.

Why does it have to be by your own rules? he demanded. I’m the only one playing here, so why should it matter to you?

“Then what the hell am I doing?” I questioned.

Let your rules be your rules and my rules be mine, he sang.

He was becoming more and more unstable by the minute. But that wasn’t what I was worried about right then.

Because I could feel something approaching. It was slight, very slight. It would take one who had lived in pure silence for a very long time to notice it. I could physically feel the vibrations of the footsteps becoming more and more intense as they advanced towards me, hear the creature’s growl in the back of its throat, smell the hunger radiating from them. That door was a mousetrap, and I was the mouse.

I could sense every move they’d make. The second they leapt at me, I was already diving out of the way of the door, preparing myself to strike back. I swung around and raised my arm, fire ready.

I only saw its face when the light seared straight through it. Black scales and scarlet eyes. It didn’t look like Emisair though. Then again, she hadn’t finished changing the last time we fought.

It collapsed to the ground. Watch it, Miss Madigan, he sang. How many more friends are you going to kill?

“Not a friend,” I panted. “And it’s not real anyway. Everything you do is an illusion.”

Why so sure? And why so by the book? Hasn’t that been done enough already?

Shut up…I thought. I got up and inspected the door more closely. A keyhole? “I expected something more high tech,” I said.

Pfffffft. Keys are more entertaining. Now find one.

I suppressed a groan before starting in the other direction. Cold…colder… he murmured again.

Oh for fucks sake…I turned around. Hot…. His voice became excited. It finally hit me then, and I felt a wave of nausea rock my stomach. I reluctantly walked back toward the Emisair-like monstrosity. Hotter, hotter, hotter! he sang. Fouuuund iiiiiiiiit! he finally trilled as I stood above the thing.

“…please tell me that the key is just underneath her,” I grumbled.

The key is just underneath her, he said obediently.

“…why do you sound different?” I enquired. “You’ve been acting like a child all of a sudden.”

When he spoke again, his voice became quieter, more threatening somehow. Don’t mind me… he purred. There’s never been one so fickle as I. Do you know how dull it is to live with the same personality for the rest of your life? It’s…sickening. So I change. There’s nothing wrong with that. Is there?

“…I’m not allowed to judge. I’ve got Kaya,” I admitted.

That’s right…NOW OPEN THE BITCH AND TAKE THE FUCKEN KEY! he suddenly shrieked.

Open…oh god. I looked toward the corpse. She’s already dead, ya piss brain, he groaned. There’s no harm in it, surely?

“Forgive me, but I don’t usually dig around in people’s corpses after they die,” I said dryly.

Riiiiight. I mistook you for the cranky skeleton again. My bad, he replied snarkily.

I tentatively looked at the gaping hole in the beast’s belly. It had gone straight through, and I could see the charred flesh where the light pierced it. “Am I going to have to…”

I dunno. Up to you.

I inhaled. “Right. Okay.” I made myself reach down into the…gap. Ugh….it was still warm. I prayed that the key was just in there, that I didn’t have to…dig into the body.

Aaaaand it wasn’t.

Yay.

I could hear him laughing. “How long ago did you make her swallow the key?” I asked.

You’re assuming I made her?

“Fine. How long ago did she swallow it?”

Just when the game started, my dear. He had changed again; his voice had become soothing, calm, gentle. Like a father singing his child to sleep before he smothered her with a pillow. Why do you ask?

I thrusted my arm upward, tearing through flesh and bone. “Just checking where I should look,” I informed him.

It was at that moment that the monster’s mouth opened and the key dropped to the ground. I stared at it, my mouth agape, my arm still entrenched in the monster’s body. My apologies, he said sadly. I was under the impression that the key was swallowed. Apparently not.

Grimacing, I pulled my arm out, wiping the black guts onto my leg. I picked up the sticky key and angrily shoved it into the keyhole. “This is your fantasy,” I said. “Of course you knew what happened to the key.”

But I am merely a director, he said calmly. I gather the stages, the actors, the music. What happens from there is out of my control. I’m not controlling you, am I?

I turned the key and opened the door. Nothing but black. I tossed a little ball of light though the darkness, and it hit what appeared to be a door about ten metres away. Slowly, I walked. “That right there,” I replied, “is a whole new philosophical debate.”

He laughed jovially. But consider this. Everything and everyone you experience is real. Everything you considered an illusion is in fact, genuine. It is merely, how do you say….different.

“Stop playing with my thoughts,” I said, opening the next door.

Everything in front of me was sky. Cold, silver sky. I looked down to see the ocean below my feet. One drop and I’d be there, in Helevia. “What now?” I murmured.

I suggest you make your leave, he told me. It is clear that you are no longer wanted here…

I frowned, and slowly turned to see Espers with big wide smiles slowly walking towards me. “Can I kill them?” I found myself asking.

There’s more where that came from, he told me. I doubt they’ll follow you though.

“It’s the key all over again,” I shook my head. I took a step backward into the air and fell. “Dammitdammitdammitdammitdammitdammitdammit!” I hissed as the wind screamed in my ears. I inhaled a long breath and squeezed my eyes close as I hit the water with a smack.

I’d only seen this done through Kaya. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect to be honest. But after a minute of floating beneath the water, I realised that I was running out of air, and there wasn’t anywhere to go. My heart was racing and I just focused on swimming down, I didn’t care where. Helevia was what I hoped for, but hell would do just fine.

Then I was grabbed, and pulled further down, at a faster rate than I was swimming at. I froze and just let them, and when my head started getting foggy, when I was about to give out, there was air.

I opened my eyes. I remembered this room, though the logic behind how I got there was a mystery to me. “How does this work?” I questioned. “Why is there air under a layer of ocean? And gravity for that matter?”

Eh….I don’t feel like explaining, he said in a whiney voice.

“…fine. But I don’t reckon that the laws of physics give a fuck about an apocalypse. Just saying.”

Pffffffft. And you say my logic is fucked.

“Your logic is fucked,” I retorted. I thought for a moment and looked under the nearby mattress. Yup. The large pile of matted silver locks were still there. Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeugh, he hissed. Grooooooooss.

“Shut up.”

Does she still have the fingerbones there too?

“That came later,” I informed him coldly. “Though I must say, you’re a fine one to talk.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” A voice suddenly asked.

I froze. I knew the voice, though we had never spoken together. When I turned to look at her, I found myself relieved that I wasn’t looking at a mutilated corpse. “And what’s the point of you?” I questioned. “Why do you exist here?”

One green eye and one blue eye gazed at me dreamily. “I could ask the same of you,” she murmured. “Why do you exist here of all places?”

“That question is going to take years to answer. You go first.”

“Of course I exist here. This is my world, my home. You don’t belong here.”

“But this is my head. My visualisation. Why is he making you appear in front of me?”

I took you here because you need to be here, he said in a serious voice. You must be here with the empress Nereida, just like you had to slaughter Emisair.

“This isn’t Nereida, this is you, pulling her strings behind a curtain. She died a long time ago, before I even came to Delirium.”

“A long time ago? But everyone is still alive, don’t you know?” Nereida enquired.

“Not helping.” And then it hit me. I stared at Nereida, who responded with a slight smile. “Wait, what?”

He chuckled. Understand now?

“No…” I tried to process what she said. “Why would you-”

“Tell you that? Why not? You know it’s going to happen. You’ve seen it. Haven’t you?” Nereida responded.

“But…why would you make her like that?” I directed the question to him. “Why would you…what’s the point of making the empress…like this?”

Whatever do you mean? he murmured as if he didn’t already know.

“…her people are dead. She killed them all….if this is all in my head, then what reason would you have for creating a Nereida set before she slaughtered her people?”

Another dark laugh. Splendid…

“Consider this,” Nereida spoke again. Her gaze was calm and kind. More a mother than a murderer. “Everything around you is just as real as that world that you commonly reside in. But to that world, it is only a mere possibility, an idea born from imagination, not yet reality. Understand?”

“…no.”

Why so stubborn, the madman hissed. You know exactly what’s going on, you just don’t want to admit it. Because if that’s true, then that means that you have to accept something that you really don’t want to.

I stayed silent. Nereida spoke instead. “It’s still going to happen,” she said. “Nothing will change in that regard, I can promise you that. But…I assure you that if there were any other way around this, I would take that path.”

“….how can you do that? How can you make yourself do something like this?”

“Anyone can,” she said simply. “It is what has to be done. When you have nothing but your objective in mind, you can do anything. Kaya taught me that.”

I laughed then. A mad, maniacal laugh. “Did Kaya teach you to poison innocent people? To watch as they were strangled from the inside? No, don’t answer, I already know. Kaya would’ve never condoned something like this. And don’t say that she would’ve.”

She smiled back politely, and I felt my stomach swirl around in anger. “What does that make you then?” she asked. “Kaya allowed you to get thrown in here, didn’t she? She’s not the only one who sent lambs to the slaughter, you know.”

“Don’t compare me to innocent children.”

“But you are one. You’ve just forgotten it, that’s all. You think that you’re not one because you haven’t been allowed to be. But you are.”

I shook my head and charged out of the room, into the giant hallway. In front of me was the little ghost child. “How did this happen?” I asked him. “How did you become such a monster?”

“How did you?” Neekah replied, before lunging for my throat.

I found myself knocked to the ground, holding the little monster child away from my neck. I saw Nereida behind us, watching as if this was a performance. Desperately, I lifted him away from me and threw him back as hard as I could. For the next two seconds, I could only watch as he splattered against the wall, his eyes going wide and his mouth half opened as if to scream.

Nereida smiled smugly as I crawled back. “No…” I croaked.

“Are you alright?” she enquired, suddenly concerned. She reached for my hand.

“Don’t,” I hissed. “Just send me somewhere else. Hurry up and do it Neekah.”

Your wish is my command.

Sexy Cat

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So, according to my Stats, someone found my blog by typing in ‘Emilia Clarke smut’.

Don’t worry, it doesn’t tell me who you are, reader who apparently does exist. And I don’t judge you. If she asked, I’d take off my clothes and lie at her feet.

…and now Daniel’s snickering at me. Seedy bastard. I hope you’re happy, whoever you are. Anyway, there’s no smut here, but if you send me some, I might post it. If you’re lucky.

Anyway, I know how much you non existent readers are looking forward to reading about what happened after my head was cut off, but right now, I need to snap back to Reality for a bit. I had started writing this on Sunday, but I haven’t been able to post it till now, so let’s travel back in timeeeeeeee.

So today, I went out with my friends in Fremantle. I’m not going to get into detail about that today, but I need to mention something important. Kaya and I switched, and Kaya ended up having a panic attack on the train.

It wasn’t a panic attack.

Oh yeah it was. But like I said, we’re not going into that today. We’re talking about modelling today.

Slut.

Oi!

Well, you are.

I beg your pardon?!

I do not approve of what you did.

I’m sorry, but I did nothing violating my moral codes, or that of this century, for your information.

Oh really?

“I heard someone say slut.”

Oh great now Daniel’s here. “What do you want Daniel?” I ask.

“To know why Kaya called you a slut.”

“That would be because of today’s photoshoot. You were there remember?”

“Oh yes…”

And? What did you think of it? Is that sort of conduct appropriate for a young lady?

“Kaya, if Cat Madigan had done anything inappropriate, I would’ve been there to watch it unfold.”

“Great.” I roll my eyes. “So on one hand, I have a hypocritical priss who’s done much much worse than what I’ve done-”

I have not.

“Oh don’t you lie to me, I’ve seen your memories, remember?” I can feel Kaya’s unease in the back of my head.

“What’s this now?” Daniel actually looks confused.

“And on the other, there is a perverted man child slash stalker who watches every seedy detail of my life,” I finish.

So you admit it. What you did was wrong.

“…the subject matter was sketchy, but there was nothing wrong with what I did!”

Tell that to your mother.

“I will. Once I work up the courage to tell her I did a photoshoot without her permission. And when she’s finally in a good mood.”

That may take a while.

“You may want to explain to your nonexistent readers what the hell is going on, Cat,” Daniel tells me.

“Alright.” Now that my imaginary friends, or rather, my imaginary stalker and someone who rents out my body occasionally (in a completely different way to what it sounds like) have broken the third wall, I think I should provide some context.

Yesterday was a photoshoot. It was different from the ones I have done before; partially because this shoot was more artistic, more classical.

And also because I didn’t tell mum about it.

I know, I know, I fucked up. The thing is, I could already anticipate what my mother was going to say. And that is along the lines of “You’ve done enough modelling for the last couple of weeks, every weekend you’re going out, you’re losing your sense of family (which is rich, considering how we haven’t been a family since since I was so young that those memories are now a blur) and don’t you have homework to do?”

So here’s the story behind how I got involved in this shoot. There is a organisation that organises monthly photoshoots, and I decided to get involved in an Angels and Demons photoshoot. Don’t bother asking which I’m going to be, I gave up on heaven a long time ago, and anyone can guess who I most identify with.

Anyway, the group also had a page for casting calls, so models, photographers and makeup artists could work together in other stuff before the big monthly shoot. So I put my hand up for a last minute shoot, as one of the models had dropped out, and the photographer needed another model.

And I got it.

Well done, Cat Madigan. Kaya claps slowly in my head.

Well, I didn’t think I’d actually get it! What was the chance that he would’ve wanted to work with me over some thinner, less psychotic model?

Just continue the story. So you didn’t tell your mother.

No, I didn’t. I kept forgetting to bring it up.

In other words, you’re a hen.

Wait, what?

…Not the correct phrase?

“Try chicken, Kaya.”

“We are getting off track, you two,” I inform them.

What about the subject matter?

What of it?

For fucks sake, I don’t give a crap that you didn’t tell your mother. I care that you looked like a whore.

“She did not!” Daniel yells.

“CAN YOU BOTH GO AWAY SO I CAN CONTINUE WRITING THIS BEFORE IT LEAVES MY HEAD?”

“Fine…”

Kaya doesn’t respond, so I’m going to assume she’s shutting up. Or leaving. Hopefully leaving. Have you gone Kaya?

Not yet. I’m going to wait a bit.

Whatever you say. So the photoshoot was to be based around a Manet painting, which you can see clearly below.

20140304-211438.jpg
Just for the record, there was absolutely no nudity involved, I promise. We wore bathers, and it was a one piece, and it was not slutty, AND THERE WAS NO NUDITY.

You’re still a slut.

Shut up, you hypocritical bitch. So there was a message behind the painting, which the photographer explained to me. The painting, which was done in the 1800s, caused a scandal in the community. Not because it involved naked ladies, but because of who the naked ladies were.

“Who were they?”

“Nobody Daniel. Look, in those times, there were two common representations of women in paintings. They were usually represented as one of two extremes; the Whore, or the Virgin. And this painting depicted them as neither whore or virgin, just ordinary women. Their lack of importance is symbolised by the men who don’t look at them.”

“Maybe they’re gay.”

“Maybe they were. But either way, they were just ordinary women, and it was shown in the painting. And it lead many people to question the things that they painted, and how they painted them.”

IT’S NOT THAT PART THAT I’M CONCERNED ABOUT, CAT MADIGAN.

Concerned is putting it very lightly.

Dearest Cat, would you care to explain to your nonexistent readers what happened after the shoot?

Fine… So after the main group shot, we decided to take some shots for our portfolios. And the photographer decided it would be cool for one of the male actors to have a shoot with a lady.

“…you? A lady?”

“I have a vagina. I believe that makes me a lady.”

“Still, they could’ve used the other male model instead. You couldn’t really tell the difference.”

“Except for the beard, Daniel,” I insert.

“True, true.”

And the photos weren’t that bad, Kaya. It’s just that one or two people might consider them…provocative.

That’s one way of putting it.

Look, I was lying next to him, draped in a sheet. But I was wearing my bathers underneath! It just looked like I wasn’t wearing anything.

“When do we get to see this photo?”

You, you sick pervert, can die waiting to see that photo.”

“Don’t show me it, and I’ll find worse.”

“…what are you implying?”

“Let me put it this way. You’ll never be able to change in peace again.”

“…one look. That’s it.”

“That’s all I need. Now you can continue.”

So you see? It wasn’t that bad.

Perhaps not. But I can think of a number of people who would not approve. Your school for one.

But they wouldn’t see the photo unless they went onto my Model Mayhem account. Which they wouldn’t, because they have no business going on there.

There’ll be people calling you a slut, not just me.

Look, I don’t see the photo that way. It’s more artistic than slutty, and besides, I can use the variety in my portfolio. It’s good to show people I’m not just a cutesy makeup model.

You can be the slut too.

“I prefer to call it ‘The Femme Fatale’ look.”

“Thankyou Daniel. That’s the first time I approve of something you’ve said this conversation.”

One last thing, your mother. What would she say upon seeing that photo?

Back to Cat from the future now. I told mum. She’s fine with it. She doesn’t know exactly what went on in the shoot, but in don’t need to go into that much detail until she actually sees the photos. I haven’t got them yet, but I don’t plan to show them much to people. And especially not Uncle Slenderman.

“What about Flash? You know…just to show what he’s missing?”

“…maybe.”

“That’s my girl.”

Till next time, non existent readers.

Mad Cat

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.

The Rage of a Cat

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It’s another Weekly Writing Challenge! Yayyyy.

The picture is called Emptiness, but when I see it, I see a lonely building, which may be fun to play the How To Survive the Zombie Apocolypse Game. And I think of my most recent venture in Delirium, which turned out more…positive than normal. Do you want to hear about it? Of course you don’t. But I don’t care.

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Where am I this time? I don’t know this place. But since when have I ever known where I am going?

The building is dark and crumbling, and blue, plantlike objects cover the walls. I reckon I have about five minutes before Daniel pops up next to me, so I decide to explore further.

I wonder what all this used to be. Another time, another world. It would’ve been filled with people, alive and bright.

There have been many places I’ve visited in Delirium. I remember a temple under water, filled with light and colour, the sweet singing of sirens echoing throughout it. I look at my dilapidated surroundings and I find myself asking what is so wrong with this earth that they would build a temple underwater instead?

I walk along the hallway, looking for light. It is long and is barely illuminated by the holes in the ceiling. I finally come across a door and I struggle to pull it open.

What I see makes me turn around and vomit.

The girl has golden hair, and her eyes that stare dully at the window are a turquoise that would’ve been beautiful. She hangs by her arms and a single leg from the ceiling, her head and arms pulled back by cords attached to her body. What shocks me most are her lips. They’ve rotted, and are pulled into a twisted smile, is that meant to be beautiful? This girl was once a dancer, a girl on the brink of womanhood, a girl who loved to be free. This display, a bloody puppet dangling by several threads, is anything but.

There’s another smell in the room suddenly. “Don’t come near me,” I warn.

He chuckles. His body might as well be a corpse, its temperature is no different from the dead girl’s. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“There shouldn’t be a body hanging here either, when you think about it,” I reply. “Not exactly pleasant decoration.”

“I meant here.” He gestures to the world around him. “You aren’t from here.”

“Of course not.” I don’t look at his face, his dead, twisted face. “What had this girl done?”

He gives a high giggle. “Wrong place, very wrong time.”

I grimace. “Her skin…”

“So you understand.” This is no question he’s asking me.

“I’ve seen your prisons. I can say they’re the only thing worse than this place here. And more importantly, I’ve seen those in them.” I remember my temporary imprisonment, and the deal with the devil that set me free. “This girl is one of them. Well, was one of them. What happened to her?”

“The same that happens to them all, eventually. Afterwards, some of our dependants are left to deal with them.” He has not moved this whole time, but I feel his voice in my ear all the same. “There are more of these around this place, if you would like to look further.”

I shake my head. “Forgive me, I have had enough of corpses.” I pause, and I’m surprised that I feel calm, despite this psychopath standing behind me. “Kaya is not a puppet though.”

“No, she isn’t,” he concedes.

“And she didn’t die in your prisons either.”

“…no.”

A smirk appears on my face. “What happened there?” I ask, playing devil’s advocate.

“…they thought the girl was useless, a dud. Five years had gone with her, and nothing had happened. Well, nothing they could see; had someone stronger seen her, they would’ve known immediately what she could do.”

“So why didn’t they?”

“I believe that’s enough. Curiosity killed the cat, I believe?”

“I can’t die,” I tell him. “I’ve tried too many times, Delirium and Reality. And I’m still alive…somehow.”

“Well.” His voice takes on an edge I don’t detect until there’s only a split second to do something. “How about we try something new?”

And he rushes at me.

I dive out of the way, skidding across the ground. “Oh, are we running today?” he calls. “We can play tag, Ms Madigan.”

I’m less slow this time, and I crash against the wall. The two seconds I spend in stunned immobility are my undoing, and he catches my arm and twists it. I howl with the pain, and he gives me a laugh that turns my stomach. “You lose,” he informs me. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to play this game again.”

Then, all of a sudden, he is the one howling.

It’s not Daniel who attacked him. Or even Kaya.

My hands are burning with something akin to fire, or perhaps electricity. These thoughts don’t matter, as I throw back my arm and hurl a mass of light at him. It hits the wall behind him, and it crumples. I think I see the dancer’s corpse dissolve before me. “Do not,” I snarl. “Ever.” I launch another at him and this time, his arm turns to ash. “Think.”

He turns to run, but I throw myself through the air at him, and land on him. I start throwing punches, I want to hit him, to beat him senseless. “Call.” My voice got shriller every word I spoke. “Me…”

He manages to flip me onto my back, only to get singed by my hands. “WEAK!” I shriek, my voice echoing throughout the building.

The next few seconds are a blur, but the outcome still angers me. I let myself be distracted for a split second when Daniel dashes into the room, and the monster takes the opportunity to run from the building, fleeing through the wall, in which I completely destroyed.

I crumple to the ground. “Shit!” I cry.

Daniel runs up to me. “Don’t touch me!” I plead.

“Cat, what the hell happened?”

My hands are still glowing, but they begin to fade. “What do you think?” I croak, watching my hands return to normal, only my five letters retaining a glow to them.

“This…” Daniel shakes his head. “There is no way-”

“But it happened.”

“What are you Cat Madigan?”

“Something weird,” I whisper. Everything swims in my head; my hands of fire and lightning, the smell of charred flesh, but most of all, the desire to watch the man die, burning and screaming before me.

I am sickened by my thoughts, and before I say a word, I fall into Daniel’s arms as everything goes black.

Entering VOTY 2014!

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“Cat Madigan, what have you done?”

“Nothing.”

“…then why are you repeating the word stupid over and over?”

“Because I am stupid. That doesn’t mean anything’s wrong, it’s an observation anyone can make.”

“Well why are you realising it just now then?”

“Because, Daniel, I’ve entered a blogpost in a competition!”

“…really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

“Thank you. May I continue?”

“Of course, right after this message. Ladies, if you’re single and searching, let me-”

WHACK!

“Oooh, the lady is jealous I see.”

“Shut up Daniel.”

So, I entered my post Bandaids in the 2014 Voices of the Year Awards. I have no idea why, I had no idea what I was doing when I entered, and now I’m thinking “Well that was stupid.”

But I may as well make the most of it.

If any of you nonexistent readers are interested in voting for my depression induced rant, you can vote here. I enjoy writing on this blog, even though I don’t always update, and hopefully with school and stuff, I’ll still be able to.

The one thing I’m always worried about is the idea of my parents reading what I’ve written. Honestly, if they read one post on here, they would either lock me in my room or lock me in an asylum. An asylum wouldn’t be too bad. Think about it from an insane person’s point of view. In other words, think of it from a cheerful schizophrenic’s point of view; there would be a room ALL BED.

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And it comes with a comfy looking hug jacket!

Nah, I would hate it, not being able to slap Daniel when I feel like it.

“So glad to be an outlet for your violent outbursts, mistress.”

“Thankyou Daniel.”

If you’ve made an entry in the competition yourself, tell me about it, so I know who to vote for. After all, I’m not going to win.

Love Cat Madigan, and Daniel too.

Don’t Feed The Cat Madigan.

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I think I mentioned once that I received my anxiety from my father and my depression from my mother. No clue where the hallucinations came from though. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

So my father’s anxiety has started acting up again, and according to my mother, he’s been having panic attacks. He went to the doctor, who told him something about anxiety. This may or may not turn out to be total crap, but who knows?

Anyway, Doctor Jeff told Dad that there is increasing evidence that gluten is linked to mental disorders such as anxiety, depression and schizophrenia, and that perhaps going glucose free would be better for him.

Upon being told this by my father, my mother decided that the whole family needed to go on the diet, to support my father. It’s easy to understand what that means. Would you like a translation, nonexistent reader?

I think that if Cat Madigan goes on this diet, her problems will be magically solved, and we can go back to the world of children’s stories.

I’m interested in finding out how she plans to enforce this on my alleged brother, arguably the most deceitful person on Planet Earth. Chances are, Tig will resort to stealing from Mum in order to buy pizza, and other foods with wheat, instead of iTunes cards. And I wonder if Dad is actually going to stick to it too. It can go either two ways; he stays on the diet, or he ends up stashing pasta in his desk, along with chocolate bars and porn.

Hey! Don’t look at me that way! I was looking for chocolate, I had no idea about the porn, and I really wish that I was still oblivious to it.

No wonder I’m fucked up.

Personally, I think this is going to go the same way as the sugar free diet went. About two years ago, when my blackouts were simply blackouts, Mum attempted to make me go on the same diet she had been on for about fifteen years before we were born, in order to control my blood sugar. It’s got to do with highs and lows; sugar gives you a huge high before plummeting, which can cause faints. Now, of course, I’m aware that my blackouts are most likely brought on by my hallucinations. And what causes my hallucinations is probably not my mild chocolate addiction.

Here’s what I think will happen, step by step.

1- Mum will remove every trace of everything that has wheat in it.

2- Mum will replace everything with gluten free counterparts. Does it matter if it’s appetising? Nope. Will she expect us to eat it? Yup.

3- I will most likely refuse to eat said gluten free foods, partially because they’ll be disgusting, but mainly because my stomach is the size of an apricot and I’ll be full after a yogurt with psyllium. Which doesn’t contain gluten, thank Christ.

4- Mum shall try to guilt trip me into eating disgusting gluten free counterparts, saying “We’re all doing this for you!” even though deep down, we all know it’s not going to work.

5- I’ll probably learn to cook rice dishes. Which is awesome, I love Asian food.

6- Less awesome; Mum will be angry that I am showing some independence, and will probably yell at me for some reason she’ll make up in her head.

7- No junk food. I know that gluten isn’t in all junk food items, but knowing my mother, this diet is one step from gluten free to everything-considered-appetising-and-fattening free. This, will lead to disobedience on Tigger’s part, and, depending if the diet works for me or not, mine too.

8- Tigger will start stealing money for pizza.

9- Father will hide items full of gluten with his porn.

10- I will end up starving and run away to the streets, where there is at least food.

11- Mum will go on a murderous rampage after this culmination of events.

THE END.

On that note, I implore you all, if you are/know a doctor, dietician, nutritionist, psychologist, paediatrician, or essentially anyone who knows about gluten free diets or how gluten affects mental disorders like the ones I mentioned above, please let me know if the diet does in fact work. I’ll try it if it helps my problems, but if it’s trash, then let me know by commenting on this post. Preferably before my mother goes around killing people.

Mum is trying to pressure me into eating disgusting bread now. It begins…

Cat Madigan.