I haven't written a fanfiction in such a long time, but yesterday as I typed up a report for my Sign Language class at school about going an evening with out speaking, this idea dawned on me and I thought about it some at school and eventually everything was planned out and I had to write it. And so I quickly typed this up. Please note this doesn't follow every single storyline of Cat's life exactly you'll notice a few things not like the TV show.

This is also before Sam & Cat and all that stuff.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Lullabies

I don't ever recall a time when my mother didn't sing to me. As a child, my earliest memory was of her, towering over my tiny, pink-shaded crib that I had long since outgrown, singing the words to a lullaby that's lyrics were passed down in her family for centuries from mother to daughter. Now, seven years after the death of my mother, I can't even remember a single word from that lullaby, but just of how her voice crescendoed with every line.

My father and older brother have always told that I started singing just a few days after my second birthday, but I have always pictured myself coming into this world with song after song waiting to be sung by me and only me. My birth right, just like how that lullaby should have been.

But I will not sing anymore.

I will not let any of those birthright songs be sung.

I will not.

It is just a side effect of the vow.

There are many side effects of the vow. No more talking on the phone late into the night, no more trying to call radio stations to win whatever dumb prize they were giving away, no more hellos, no more goodbyes.

All the side effects pile up, one on top of the other, making me not want to take the vow. Telling me not to take the vow. Telling me it is alright. Nothing bad will happen. But I must take it. I have to take it.

No more laughter.

No more craziness.

No more stories about my brother.

No more acting on the stage in front of everybody.

But I have to take it.

I have to take it.

I have to take it.

It is the only way.

Taking it is the only way to protect them.

I tried to smile at myself in a nearby mirror, hanging by one nail on the bathroom wall. It was crooked, cracked, dirty, looking like it was about to fall. Just like me, I thought. I looked at my reflection for as long as I could, barely able to make out my facial expressions behind the thick layer of muck.

"Forever," I told myself. Those were my last words. My very last words.

xXxXxXxXx

We returned to school on April 7th. The first day after spring break. No one knew yet. No one knew about the vow. I tried to avoid everybody at first. They all spent the break together, as if we didn't spend enough time with each other already, in San Diego. They messaged me pictures of them at the beach, at the zoo, posing in front of a killer whale. The message attached was always the same. Wish you were here. I was asked to go. I was begged to go.

I didn't go.

I wish I did.

I wish I could turn back time, tell them I wouldn't miss it for the world, and stay up late packing my bikini for a week of nothing.

But it is too late.

I showed up late to first period. Sikowitz's class. I took a seat in the empty chair in the back of the class, hiding in the back with all the kids that never spoke unless spoken too. Weeks ago, I didn't understand them. Talking was everything to me But now it isn't. Now I am one of them.

Sikowitz rambled on about stage lefts and right, getting so into his lecture (that no one seemed to be listening to, except me of course, all I can do until the day that I die is listen) that it took him a full ten minutes to notice that I was in class. He smiled at motioned me up to the front of the stage. "Catarina!" he said too loudly, "Come show us where upstage is."

I didn't want to go up. My thoughts yelled at me to stay still, don't move. Yet my legs propelled me to stand up and walk to where Sikowitz pointed. I passed my usual seat, in between Tori and Jade. It was empty. Both girls looked at me, wondering why I wasn't sandwiched between them, sharing them the details of how I spent my break. I smiled at them and continued walking until I stood in the exact spot to where upstage was.

"Very good," I heard Sikowitz utter, "Now what are the parts of upstage?"

My eyes widened. I wanted to speak. Yet I couldn't. I can't.

I just pointed.

"And what are they called."

There's a whiteboard behind me, stocked with a rainbow of markers. I turn around and grab a pink one-my favorite color-and write down in my swirly handwriting. Can't speak.

Everyone looked at me. They were confused. They probably assumed I had a throat problem, like last year. I used my phone to communicate. I wish I could use that now, but it's cheating. It's still talking. There is no talking.

I erased the 'Can't speak' and replaced it with another set of words, this time struggling to include them all on the whiteboard.

Vow of silence. Can't speak. Never speak.

So how was that? Please tell me your honest opinion on it. I haven't written like this in so long I know I am going to have so much faults, so any feedback, postitive or negative would be very very helpful to me. Thank you for reading the first chapter. ~Emi