CHAPTER TWO
"Do I have to do this?" Cat asked as he legs bounced nervously.
It had been a few weeks since the incident with her brother happened. When Greg called the Valentines, they immediately flew back home. Chris was arrested and they had to wait for a trial time, which unfortunately could take a while, but as long as he wasn't around Cat, the Valentines were fine with however long it took. Cat's mother Tara wanted her to start therapy because she was showing signs of depression and wanted to get it taken care of and controlled before it got too bad to handle.
"Just try it, okay?" Tara asked. "It could be a good thing, honey."
"We'll be right out here waiting for you to come out," her father said. "And Jade will be here in a little bit. Just relax, be yourself, just talk about what you're comfortable talking about, but talking about what happened might help."
"Don't pressure her, Adam."
Cat sighed, leaning back in the chair. "I don't feel good. I just wanna go home. Can't we just go home and do this when I'm feeling better?"
"Honey, you're depressed. Depression makes you sick. If you get some of that pent up anger and whatever other emotions that are going on in your head out, you'll start to feel better."
"Caterina Valentine," a voice said.
Cat looked up, a woman standing by a large door catching her attention. She let out a small breath and stood up, handing her phone to Tara before walking towards the woman.
"Hi. I'm Dr. Turner," the woman said, opening the door so Cat could enter the room.
Cat nodded and bit her lip, making her way into the room, looking around for a few seconds. It looked more like a library than an office. She heard the door close and Dr. Turner gestured to a chair.
"Take a seat, Caterina," Dr. Turner said.
"Cat," Cat said, sitting down slowly. "I go by Cat. I never go by Caterina."
"Okay. I'll put that in my notes," the doctor said. "So, I hear you've gone through some turmoil."
"If my brother molesting me is considered turmoil, then I guess so."
"I'd like to let you know that anything said in this room stays in this room unless you talk about it outside of therapy. I don't talk to anybody about my clients. I know I'm a stranger, but this is my profession and I take my job very seriously. I'd really like to help you in any way I can, but the only way I can do that is if you talk to me about what's going on in your head."
"There's a lot of things going on in my head. Like... everything just multiplied and got so much worse."
"Like what?"
"Like... my feelings. I've never really felt like I was worth much, but... now I don't feel worth anything at all. My brother defiled me. Ruined my worth..."
"Do you have friends?"
"Yeah. I have six really close friends, but I have a lot of general friends."
"You have family?"
"Mhm," she nodded. "I have a sister that's at a boarding school. And I have a baby sister."
"Do you think they love you?"
"Well... why wouldn't they? They wouldn't bother with me if they didn't. My little sister comes to me over my mom."
"You're worth something to them," Dr. Turner said. "Everyone that loves you, you're worth something to."
"I don't feel like I am. Sometimes I feel like they'd be just fine if I wasn't around."
"Are you planning on running away?"
Cat shook her head. "No."
"Are you planning on anything dangerous?"
The redhead stayed silent for a few seconds, picking at her cuticles. "...Not planning. But I've thought about it."
"About what?"
Another few moments of silence. "Suicide."
"Have you attempted it?"
Cat shook her head. "No. I've thought about it, though. A lot. Every night since it happened, I've thought about it. My mom says I'm depressed..."
"You are. That much is evident. Depression causes suicidal thoughts, that's normal with depression. But, I'd like to get that taken care of as soon as possible. What I'm going to do is refer you to a mental health facility and get you in touch with a behavioral health physician and they'll get back to me about what medication they feel is most suitable for you and we'll get you started on it. I'll talk to your parents about it because they have to okay it with you being a minor, but as soon as they do then we can get started on the process."
"I thought what was said here doesn't go beyond these walls," she said, crossing her arms.
"Talk of medication is a little different. They have to approve it. As soon as you're eighteen, if you're still seeing me or any other therapist, talk of medication will be just between you and your therapist."
Cat sighed. "There's no way in hell my parents are gonna agree to medicate me. My brother was medicated. For depression. He molested me. And... I'm not very thrilled with the idea, either."
"Your brother is a lot sicker than just being depressed, Cat. He has a disease. It's called pedophilia."
"Pedophilia is sexual attraction to prepubescent children. I'm seventeen years old and pretty far along in my puberty days," Cat said as she stood up. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I don't have the patience for this."
"It would go a lot smoother if you would tell me everything that's going on and what you went through."
"What do you wanna know!" Cat snapped. "Huh? You wanna hear that my brother lusted after his own little sister? That he could possibly have done it to the baby? You wanna hear that while I was fucking sleeping, he ate me out like my pussy was cotton candy at the county fair and made me cum better than my own boyfriend ever has? Like, fuck man, I don't wanna think about it! It's done and over with! So is this therapy shit!" She shouted before walking out of the room, leaving her therapist stunned.
"Straight to your room, young lady," Adam said.
"Fuck off, I'm going," Cat snapped as she pushed past her parents and towards the stairs.
Tara sighed, closing the door after Jade walked in with a baby carrier. "Give her some breathing room, Adam. Jade, how 'bout you help me with dinner?"
"Sounds lit," Jade said, heading towards the kitchen.
As Tara entered the kitchen, she sat her purse on the table and got a glass pan out of a cabinet while Jade sat the baby carrier on the table. "Thank you for coming to her appointment," she said. "I knew something was going to go wrong."
"Nothing went wrong. She got mad. That's not wrong of her to do."
"She acted unprofessionally."
"She's not a professional, Mom. She's a seventeen-year-old girl. She's a child," Jade said as she opened the fridge. "What am I getting out?"
"Tortillas, cheese, olives, enchilada sauce, hamburger, green onions and taco seasoning," Tara said. "I know she's a child. But she didn't have to act the way she did. She overreacted."
"It was her first time in therapy. You can't expect it to go perfectly. That's unfair expectations. She told the therapist exactly what she asked, she wasn't in the wrong."
"She could have used a better choice of words," Tara said as she started layering tortillas in the pan.
"Yeah. But, she was upset and annoyed. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, yanno? When I started therapy, I got banned from an entire building because I threatened to slice my therapist's body up and watch her organs fall to the ground while vultures came to enjoy the feast."
Tara's face scrunched up. "Yeah, I remember your mother telling me about it. It still haunts me."
"I'm just saying, go easy on Cat. She's got mental things going on with her. Her attitude is going to change. It's not pleasant, but it's normal," Jade shrugged. The baby started fussing and she made her way to the table, lowering the carrying handle. "Hey, what's the matter, little miss?"
"She's probably hungry. There are some bananas in the fridge if you'll feed her, I'll get dinner ready."
"Okay. C'mere, Tabby." Jade unbuckled the baby from her carseat and kissed her cheek after picking her up. "You wanna eat? I wanna eat. I'm hungry, too," she said, placing the seven-month-old in a high chair.
"Anybody ever tell you you're gonna be a really good mom some day?"
"Yeah. You. All the time. But, I don't want kids," she said, making her way to the fridge.
"You'd be great at it."
"Yeah. And Robbie Shapiro would be great at ventriloquism, but that doesn't mean he should do it because it's creepy and weird."
"That has nothing to do with being a mom."
"No, but my point is, just because you're good at something doesn't mean it's the right thing for you. Yanno?"
"I see your point."
"If everyone else would see my point, I'd be a much happier person."
"If everyone would do things your way you'd be a much happier person."
"Truer words have never been spoken."
