Tears and Why I Shed Them

Standard

“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.”

Tears and Why I Shed Them

Standard

“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.”

Strangers in Delirium

Standard

I’m used to people shouting at me when I wake up.

Today, it was Daniel.

Everything was blurry when I opened my eyes. “Where am I Daniel?”

He didn’t say anything, but he held my hand reassuringly until my sight returned. My other senses returned, one by one. This is what I took in; the walls were made of stone, but they weren’t threatening like a prison cell. It was warm, and it smelt of pine; Daniel must’ve put pine nuts in the fire. This wasn’t a hard bench I lay on, instead, all I could feel was soft, smooth sheets.

Then I realised we weren’t alone.

I could feel the eyes on me, and I rolled over to see them. They all flinched when I looked at them. “Am I really that hideous?” I said dryly.

“Humans,” Daniel said, as if that explained everything.

I recognised the little girl peeping through the crowd. “I know her,” I whispered to Daniel. “Her name’s Ray, right?”

He nodded once, and in that moment, the girl dashed through the people to him. He picked her up and squeezed her quickly. “My goddaughter,” he told me, before popping her on the bed beside me.

“Hello…” Daniel, this is not a good idea, there is a difference from a child from Reality and a child from Delirium. I don’t want her to start screaming, I’m a freak as it is!

But, to my surprise, the girl smiled at me and sat next to me on Daniel’s bed. Her presence managed to calm me in front of all the nosy strangers; out of all of them, she was the most ‘human’ looking. It didn’t stop me from recoiling from the others.

Daniel, as if hearing my silent plea, spoke up. “She isn’t on show. Either state your business or leave.”

The majority left, though a couple had legitimate reasons to speak with Daniel. That didn’t stop them from taking a second glance at me anyway. While they spoke, I looked at Ray. She was barely three years old, from what I saw. Her hair was golden and silky looking, but it was her eyes that were the most comforting. They were plain, green, human eyes. Nothing more. She smelt of roses and cream, and when she hugged me, I didn’t resist. After they left, I asked Daniel why I was here.

“Why are you ever here?” was his response.

I just ignored him. We sat in silence for a while, until he just talked to himself. “Things are mad at the moment. The Highest wants a party, I’m sad to say. In times like this…”

I was silent. There’s a great deal that can be said in silence and stillness. It’s so unnatural, that people automatically know that there is something wrong. Daniel stopped and sat down next to me. “What happened?”

I shut my eyes.

“What,” he pronounced. “Happened.”

I made a little movement with my hand and he was quick to realise. “Who did it?” he demanded.

“They’re all shadows to me,” I said softly. I felt as if the warmth from the room had returned to the fire, leaving me in the cold.

Suddenly, Daniel snatched me up in his arms and held me close against him. “Daniel…” I objected.

“Why…” he was saying over and over. It was alarming, Daniel had never done that.

When he released me, the girl had vanished, and I felt exhausted. I lay down on the bed and told Daniel, “I don’t feel like going back to Reality yet. I just need to sleep.”

He nodded.

“But I can’t.”

“Nightmares?”

I nodded.

“They can’t get you here.”

“Because they’re afraid of you.”

“I won’t go.”

“Please don’t,” I tell him.

Daniel sat next to me; I’m now used to him being with me when I struggle sleeping. I closed my eyes. “Why?” he murmured again.

You should be teasing me. Why are you being kind? “Why?” I agreed.

The F@ck You List

Standard

Hello humanity!

Merry fucking Christmas!

Okay…now that I’m out of my cave of depression and chocolate, time for my first Christmas speech.

No I don’t care that it’s three days early. I want to write NOW.

Grrrr.

This is my first year writing this stuff. As some of you nonexistent readers may know, I had started this blog after I had attempted suicide, in order to get stuff out of my head. 

So. Nine days till the year ends.

How do you celebrate the end of a year that has been absolutely shit?

I present….the Fuck You List. It’s exactly what is sounds like.

So fuck you:

1- Brain. Thanks to you, I have scars on my hands, scars on my leg, a horrible sense of what is reality, and two imaginary friends.

2- Flash. You gave me hope and then you took it away. We’re friends, I’m guessing, but I’m not going to be so stupid as to trust you. Not as much as I did anyway.

3- Daniel. Fuck you for following me when I ran away, and continuing to piss me off ever since.

4- Benedict Cumberbatch, for ruining my expectations of men.

5- Mum, for your moodswings and violent outbursts.

6- Dad, for trying to drag me out of my room by my hair an hour ago. Never. Drag. Me. Out. By. My. Mother. Fudging. Hair.

7- Kaya, for not taking over and scratching my father’s eyes out an hour ago. Also, where the hell have you been for the last six months? Thanks to you, I’m suicidal, depressed, anxious, oh, did I mention Flash dumped me because of the hallucinations you gave me? Fuck you Kaya.

8- Queen Paris-ite. I do have friends. They are awesome, funny, and have more brain cells than you. And for your sake, we won’t start on my hair.

9- Slenderman, for causing me to laugh during Mass, you seedy bastard. And for those who want to know why, think about how this could be interpreted: Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come agaaaaaaain. Don’t you have anything better to do than make me go red in the face from laughing? Also, apologies to those seedy nonexistent people who read that and understood the other meaning, and if you never take Mass seriously again, it’s my fault.

10- Papa Willis’ ex girlfriend. Not only did you hurt him, but you hurt me and Batman. Noone is perfect, especially not us. That definitely does not mean we are horrible people.

11- Doctor Who. I’m going to be borderline inconsolable at Christmas. I LOVE YOU MATT SMITH!

12- Sherlock. And you know why.

13- Steven Moffat. DISHONOUR ON YOU, DISHONOUR ON YOUR COW.

14- BBC in general. 

15- James Bond, for not going gay. 

16- Disney.

17- Happy singing people.

18- Cheerfulness.

19- 500 Miles, by The Proclaimers. AND YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY.

20- Mathematics.

21- Depression.

22- Anxiety.

23- Cutting. You do not help. In the slightest. I know that now.

24- Sickness. Seriously, my brain’s already out of whack, this is not an invitation to have fun too, immune system. 

25- Game of Thrones. I knew about the Red Wedding, BUT THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY. 

Argh…There’s so many more things I want to say fuck you to…tell you what, I’ll continue this again when Internet has returned.

Cat Madigan

Third Person Delirium…

Standard

Yesterday, I had gone to go see Catching Fire with my friends. Well, friends and friends of friends, but by the end of the day, I knew most of their names.

I’m not writing a review today, but I will soon, don’t worry, imaginary readers.

One person I had befriended was a guy called Chase. No, of course it’s not his real name, I’m not an idiot.

He found me at the beginning of the day, wandering the town of Grum. You see, we usually go into the city, but it’s more convenient for the friends of friends, who go to a boarding school near Grum. You’ve probably heard of Grum, it’s where the Dockers live.

It was less convenient for me, because I had to be on a train for about an hour. Not that I really minded. With my trusty iPad and my hobbit feet which I had acquired from the Cat’s Run Away adventures, I was up for anything.

I had gotten there early, so I decided to wander the city in search of wifi. You see, because my phone doesn’t call anyone except my parents, in order to communicate with said friends, I need Facebook. And for Facebook I need wifi.

Then I ran into Chase, who was on the way to find said friends. So we went together and found them, in a place which was nowhere near where I thought we were going to meet. So thanks to Chase, I hadn’t spent hours wandering the stinking streets of Grum.

The majority of people there were ones I didn’t know. You see, my guy friends had once ‘chaperoned’ a social at a boarding school where these people went. And we met up once before to see Thor, as I might have mentioned. And today, we were joining them for their ‘end of school’ picnic thingymajinky.

Not all of my guy friends were coming. And Flash and Smith would be late, as they had rowing. So it was a relief to see some familiar faces in the group of Hogwarts students. Yes, that’s right, first Alice in Wonderland, now Harry Potter names. I’m not very creative.

So we went to see Catching Fire, and I met up with Flash and Smith. To sum up Catching Fire in a word, it was awesome. But I’ll save that details for my review.

Later on, we were hanging out in a park which didn’t stink of smoke and garbage, and we were watching Smith and a girl who I’ll call Dotty reenact the infamous scene from the Sherlock Season Two finale.

Then Chase dropped to the ground.

This was a change for me. Because normally, I’m the one who drops dead in the middle of outings.

Dotty knew what to do though. We got him in the recovery position and Dotty explained. Whenever Chase dropped, it meant he was half asleep. A better explanation was lucid dreaming. And that meant he was about to go into a nightmare.

It was that description that made me look at Flash uneasily.

It lasted five or ten minutes. I watched Chase’s eyes move under his eyelids and he trembled and shook as if he were in pain. Smith and Dotty were holding back his arms to stop him from scratching himself and Flash was holding me tightly. And the whole time, I kept seeing myself in Chase’s place.

“Is that what I look like?” I asked Flash quietly.

He looked at me and hugged me. “It’s getting better,” he whispered to me. “But…it used to be a lot like that.”

Chase opened his eyes, and they were glazed over. Then they refocused, and he swore. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, as everyone hugged him.

“We’re used to it,” Smith said, and Flash nodded.

I smiled sadly. “Yeah…”

We then explained to him my situation. “And they haven’t found out what’s wrong yet?” Dotty asked.

I shook my head. To my surprise, Daniel hadn’t popped up yet, which was strange. Daniel usually came whenever I was freaking out.

Later that evening, I was with Flash waiting for my bus. “It was scary,” I admitted. “That…that was what I…” I looked at him. “Were as you freaked out as I was?” Are you always frightened when it happens to me? I asked inwardly.

He nodded. “It’s getting better though,” he said. “You don’t scream out, and it ends pretty quickly.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it’s getting better,” I told him. “Not really.”

He hugged me. “Don’t give up,” he said to me.

“I don’t intend to.”

Faith in People…Status: Depleted.

Standard

Cat Madigan is not happy.

Neither is Daniel.

It’s not every day that you accuse non-existent readers of things, but here goes.

WHO TATTLED ON DANIEL???

Yesterday, I came home feeling a lot happier than I had been in a while. I have no idea why, but I was. Which made things even worse later that evening.

During dinner, a notepad had been left in front of where I was eating. One that my mother often used. And, one word caught my eye. HYPNOTHERAPY.

Now, I have a massive aversion to hypnotherapy. I do not like the idea of someone getting inside my head and tampering with the shit in it. Even in the name of therapy. Yes, my opinion of hypnosis may have been influenced by Alice: Madness Returns, but I hated the idea even before the video game.

I have enough trust issues as it is, and I am not comfortable with the idea of someone having the power to lock things away in my head. Nonononononono.

There was more to the note than that. One sentence made me go into full blown panic mode.

Daniel is a devise.

My mother knew about Daniel.

Or at the very least, knew of someone called Daniel who was probably causing me to need something involving hypnotherapy.

In other words, my Daniel, a figment of my imagination.

So. Who tattled on Daniel?

There’s a number of options. Unfortunately.

I’m going to guess my therapists though. Because on that note was details about someone called Mia, who works at CAMHS. Which is where I’m having with someone I’m calling Lolly.

But the thing is, my therapists remind me just about every session that everything I tell them is confidential. Unless I am of threat to myself or to others, they are not allowed to tell anyone anything. Nothing I say leaves my conversation with Lolly.

So someone has lied.

Someone who obviously thought that it was their place to tell my mother about Daniel. Meaning someone who has contact with my mother, and who I’ve trusted with information about Daniel.

They might even read what I’m writing now.

Funny…the one time I get a reader, and they’re betraying my trust.

If you’re reading this, tattletale, read till the last word.

I had never given anyone permission to tell my mother anything. Especially not about Daniel, or what I see. And whoever you are, you had no right to tell anyone anything, no matter what you had thought. I would’ve never said anything to you if I knew you’d tell my mum.

If my mother tells me to go through with the treatment, beats me, yells at me, or screams at me to force me into it, it’s you who’s to blame.

Attached

Standard

I have found another part about myself that I hate. Yes, it turns out that it is possible. After discovering millions of flaws in myself, I thought there couldn’t have been anymore.

I have a feeling that whenever I say things like ‘What could be worse than this,’ or ‘I’ve hit rock bottom’, my brain seems to determine this as a challenge.

THIS IS NOT A GAME BRAIN! I DON’T WANT TO FEEL EVEN MORE INSECURE ABOUT MYSELF, I’M A NUTJOB ALREADY!!

So I’ve figured out something else about myself.

I develop attachments to the simplest, stupidest things.

About a few months ago, I nearly had a panic attack when I was deciding to change my radio from 92.9 to 99.3, more commonly known as Triple J. You see, my radio is difficult to change stations on, and if I chose to change my radio station, it would probably stay on that station for the rest of that radio’s existence. And I was freaking out about it. And it was a radio station!

And for all you imaginary 92.9 fans who are asking, I got sick of Nicki Minaj and songs with horrible meanings. Yes, I’m looking at you Miley Cyrus, and you Robin Thicke.

I also tend to be frightened when something happens to Daniel. Yes, the same Daniel who teases and picks on me whenever he has the chance. Because I’ve also gotten attached to him. He’s a friend, and he protects me.

And I shouldn’t get attached to him because he’s a part of my head which isn’t real, and my doctors are splitting hairs over getting rid of him.

I can imagine what you’re thinking, nonexistent reader. Why am I only just noticing this behaviour of mine?

I believe it happened because of a painting I had done. Well, it brought about the realisation.

A few months ago, we were painting abstract self portraits in Art, and mine actually won a prize, much to my astonishment. I was a better drawer than a painter, and the fact that I had won something for that painting was surprising in itself.

So today, I found out from my art teacher that someone wanted to buy my painting, and to think about if I wanted to sell it.

As I am incapable of expressing emotion properly, my only reaction was, “Oh, wow, okay.” On the inside, I felt everything spinning out of whack.

I was carrying my canvas outside when I saw Daniel waiting for me. He was pumped. “That,” he told me, “is wicked. Someone wanted to buy your work, that’s incredible!”

I just smiled tiredly.

Then Daniel noticed I hadn’t said anything. “Are you going to sell it?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

There was a story behind the painting. It probably wouldn’t make much sense without seeing it, but I’m a bit reluctant about letting it out on the Internet, especially when I’m considering selling it. But I’ll describe it as best as I can.

Anyway.

I am not in a good state of mind. In the slightest. Nor was I when I was painting my picture. I don’t know if I ever will be again, (yes, that’s right, I used to be sane). But I can’t let people know that, otherwise I can’t be anything more than the ‘mental girl’. So I appear calm on the outside. I had used green in the background, and for my eyes, and I painted my hair a pretty blue. Calm colours, nice colours, they remind me of a meadow by a lake. I’ve also painted my clothing red, not bright red, just a muted, pretty colour. It doesn’t get much attention.

My face on the other hand, is bright yellow and orange, like a flame. I always feel like I’m burning up on the inside, the pain is bright and vibrant, and it hurts.

It’s not a good feeling.

I ask Daniel now. “Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“Somewhat. But do you?”

I frown, and shake my head at his logic. “I feel like it’s too emotional,” I said slowly. “And too personal. I mean, it means something to me, about myself, and it’s not a very nice part about myself. It’s like giving away a secret, and for someone else to have that secret?”

“What do you know about secrets?”

I make a face. “Enough to know that it’s a bitch.”

He chuckles. “Silly Cat. A person only has a secret if they understand it completely. This person won’t know the truth unless you give it to them.”

“Then I’m selling a lie.”

He cracks up. “You are an idiot.”

“I believe that’s been established.”

He sighs. “What are you upset about? You could sell a painting, what’s wrong with that?”

I shake my head. “It just feels almost like I’m telling them about what’s really happening in my head.”

“Cat Louise Madigan,” Daniel says. “Will you remember this painting for the rest of your life?”

“I’m not sure,” I said slowly. “I could feel differently tomorrow about it, and I might want to sell the painting. On the other hand, what if I sell it and I’ll always want it?”

“Now you’re overthinking this,” Daniel said. Then he starts calling out “RED ALERT, RED ALERT! OVERTHINKING IN PROGRESS! INITIATE DISTRACTION!”

I hit him over his head with a book. “Better?” he asked.

“Much, thank you.”

Daniel lies back. “Ask your teacher more about it,” he says. “Don’t give it away practically for free, if it’s so precious. How much would you sell a secret?”

I actually don’t know. Here I am, writing up our conversation for millions of nonexistent readers to see, and I’m worrying about an implied message in a painting. “You’re right, I am an idiot,” I said.

He rolls his eyes. When I look back up, he’s gone. And I feel sad.

Damn you Daniel.