Raw Skin

To soon. It's to soon. She doesn't know what to say. Can't find the right words to tell her parents what she's been doing. Or rather, why. It's all happening to quickly, like time was speeding forward, dragging her with it no matter how reluctant she may be to go along. But then again, would there ever be any words to express to her parents how messed up she is? Why she's so sick and twisted and mental in the head?

She feels an overwhelming urge to just apologize, break down, swear that she'll never do it again. Feels as though maybe if she does so then they can forget this ever happened and she can act like her parents wouldn't look at her differently every time she came from her shower. Every time she passed them. She can imagine their faces; their faces would be shriveled in disgust, plagued with disappointment, riddled with hatred for their oh so imperfect daughter. She can imagine that every time she would look at them, they would turn away, wondering where they went wrong.

She swallows.

"Oh, Cat! Why are you here honey? Did you have a half day?" her father smiles sweetly as she enters the door. A smile that was not returned. Lane had driven her home immediately after having called her mother and explaining the predicament as best he could without revealing exactly what has been happening. Her mother replied that she would come home right away. However, her dad was unaware of the situation.

The opening of a door sounded through the house as Lane entered behind her.

Her father's grin grew wider, more welcoming, but it didn't fool Cat. She understood that when her dad became nervous or unsure of himself, he smiled. "Oh...Lane! How are you?" he asks precariously, like he knew whatever was going to go down was not going to be good. He shifts from one foot to the other, twiddling his fingers as Lane's grave features turns more solemn, if that was even possible.

"I'm okay, thank you for asking Mr. Valentine. How are you?" Lane responds softly as if he spoke to loud than he would just shatter. Cat can see that. Lane is so soft spoken and she wonders that if he ever really truly yelled, what it would sound like. She doesn't think he's capable of screaming. Thinks he would break himself trying to sound harsh, abrasive, mean.

"I'm good...I'm good...Would you like to take a seat? I can get you, uh, water or something? Would you like water?" her father questions, gesturing to the couch in the room over before waving at the kitchen as if to suggest water.

"Thank you, but...do you have any tea actually? It's really cold outside." Cat suspects Lane is only trying to be nice, trying to ease the tension, but his face says otherwise. Betrays him and portrays that he's worried. Extremely worried. If he had it his way, she thinks Lane would cut the niceties and just blurt everything out. But they need to wait for her mom.

Lane walks over, rubbing his hands together (she thinks he must have lotion in his hands) and sits down on the coach.

"Cat? Are you all right? You haven't said a word...Are you sick?" her father asks with concern. She feels her throat constrict. She's more ill than he could imagine. So, unable to lie, she gives a slight nod of her head. Her father looks at her curiously, but then tells her to go sit by Lane and that he'll be over in a minute or two.

She heads over to the couch, but instead of sitting on it, she takes a spot on the floor near the cocktail table because if things get heated, she can always crawl under it and pretend it's her safe room and that she's just hiding and none of this is actually going on. Lane looks at her oddly, but she merely shrugs in response, all form of speech seemingly yanked from her grasp.

"Cat..."

She doesn't answer. She's too involved in her own head to think up a response. She's wondering what she's going to say. What's going to happen. All of the possibilities and outcomes race through her head. Most of them are bad.

Bang.

The front door colliding with the wall signals her mother's arrival. Her mother takes in the scene, apprehension clear on her face. Cat can just envision the apprehension warping into repugnance when Lane informs her parents of what's been going on (because she never would, to afraid of what her parent's reactions might be).

"Hey honey!" her father calls from the kitchen. "Lane is here! Cat to."

"I know," her mother's small voice comes. She's concerned.

"You know?"

"Matt, can you come in here?" her mother asks, throwing off her shoes and walking into the living room. It was only a few steps away and it was conjoined with the entrance way, the kitchen, and the dining room. Her house was very open and large, with enough room for a boy such as her mentally disabled brother to run around in without dashing into something.

"Yeah, of course...The tea is almost done."

Lane clears his throat. "It's fine, I don't really need the tea," he announces softly. She can hear her father stirring in the kitchen, quickly preparing the tea, ignoring what Lane said. In a second or so, he finishes up and swiftly makes his way towards the couch.

"Here you are," he smiles, although the smile is fake.

Both of her parents take a seat on the two armchairs that are positioned so that they are facing the couch.

"Cat, why are you sitting on the floor?" her mother questions, but it's more of a demand and it slightly frightens Cat. Cat shakes her head a bit as if she doesn't know before glancing down at the floor, using her finger to trace patterns into the carpet.

"So Lane...What brings you here?" her father attempts.

"Well your daughter has been acting...odd lately. Let me start by asking if you have noticed any actions that might be considered out of the ordinary?" Lane begins, then pauses, waiting for one of her parents to speak up.

"Out of the-"

"What do you mean, odd lately?" her mother interrupts her father.

"Why don't you explain Cat?" Lane prods, but Cat shoves her head in her hands, refusing to be a part of this conversation. Refusing to look at the people surrounding her, expecting an answer. She's going to let them down if she tells them, she thinks. They're going to think she's crazy. That she needs to holed up in a mental institution just like Lane suggested.

Lane sighs. "Cat here has been...well, rubbing her...skin...almost like someone who has OCD and might wash their hands until they bleed...That's what Cat does, only it's her whole body. Do you under-"

"What..." her father cuts Lane off, squeaking gently.

"What are you talking about," her mother orders. "Are you trying to say that Cat is OCD...or what?"

And this is where she feels like everything is going to go downhill.

"No...although it could possibly be a form of it. I'm not sure. However, if it was, there would be a reason for it and that's what I'm trying to figure out," Lane tells her parents like she's not here. Like she's just an object. A stupid, annoying, worthless, object.

"Cat...Is he serious?" her father searches her. She remains buried in her hands like if she does so for long enough she'll be transported from this situation. So she remains silent, and that's answer enough for her father. "Why...Why would you do...whatever that is?" Her father's voice is filled with pain and horror for his eldest daughter. When she again stays motionless, her mother starts to shout at her like she did something wrong.

"Cat, answer the damn question!" For a second Cat feels like she's back in the parking lot with Jade and all she wants to do is run away. She knew her mother would react like this, ever the abrasive one with the very opinionated statements and the obnoxious resolution that she could behave however she wanted, no matter how childish. Cat understands part of her mother's reaction will be the guilt and feeling of failure that, first, she wasn't completely there for her second born and often neglected him until she learned that he was autistic, and two, she had now refused to have had acknowledged the signs that her first born was crazy as well.

"I...I can't mom!" she exclaims with grief.

"Why not? What the hell is this man talking about! Can you tell me that Caterina? Why is he here and what the hell does he mean you rub your skin? What am I supposed to make of that?" Her mother is livid, enraged.

"Now Mrs. Valen-"

"Shut up Lane. Unless you would explain to me what the hell you mean by 'she rubs her skin'! You can't just come in here, randomly tell me that my daughter is mental, and fuck-" her mother falters at the use of the curse word, but quickly regains her composure. "Fucking just expect me to know what you mean and deal with it!"

"Erin, ple-" her father tries to calm her mother down, but is silenced and even though Cat hasn't picked her head up to look at what's unfolding before her, she can envision her mother's scowl, a glare that could even rival Jade's.

Lane's voice is shaky when he begins to speak. "I only meant that she has been rubbing with a washcloth at her skin till it bleeds. Here, I'll show you..." After a moment Cat feels her arm being tugged away from her face gently and she allows Lane to force the arm of the shirt up until it reveals her scars.

She can hear her father gasp and as she looks up for the first time, she notices her mother's appalled, shocked face. It takes a second to really register, but finally her mother speaks up, only this time her tone is quiet, yet still spiked with venom. "I thought you were better...That you had forgotten." Her father nods his head as if to agree with his wife.

She feels the need to apologize and does so repeatedly. "I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean...I- I only thought...I'm sorry mom...I'm so, so sorry..."

"You don't need t-"

"Lane get the fuck out of my house," her mother orders, cutting him off, her whole stature shaking with rage.

"I- Excuse me?"

"Get...the...fuck...out." Her mother's face is dyed a bright red.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Valentine, but Cat-"

"You have no say in this...Go!" her mother howls, pointing angrily towards the door, looking like she could explode at any point, the purple and blue veins in her skin popping in an ugly array of colors. Her father bows his head and looks away. The day he argues with Cat's mom is the day the earth ends.

"Fine. But I expect to hear a report?" Lane scurries to the door, grabbing his jacket and then rests his hand on the doorknob, looking back expectantly. Cat mouthes the words 'don't go,' more horrified of her parents then of him. He frowns and closes his eyes tightly when he sees her fearful face, but reopens them within a few seconds, most likely cursing himself for what he had triggered.

"No. You won't," her mother deadpans.

"Will she be coming to school tomorrow?"

"Out."

This time Lane does as he's told. Then her mother turns on her.

"Pull yourself together Caterina," she hisses. "What the fuck is this nonsense?"

"I...I don't know mom...I'm sorry...I'm so-"

"Oh shut up. Save your breath," her mother growls, throwing her hands up in the air exasperatedly. "Is this all just a game to you? Let's see who can screw my life up more, you or your brother? Is that what you're trying to do?...Well is it!" she hollers, pacing back and forth.

"Mom no...I'm not...It's just...Just the..."

"Stop stuttering! You're not illiterate! You can talk! At least I've been paying for you to learn shit like that and that's why I've been wasting my hard earned money on a stupid private school just for you!" Even her father winces at her mother's statements.

"Please...It was just e-everything that h-happen-"

"Caterina I thought we were over this! It was a mistake. Not everyone in the world is like that man. Get over yourself!" her mother screams at her, getting closer to her, yelling in her face. She knows her mother has always had a sore spot for the past and hated talking about it because it made her feel like she hadn't been a good enough mother to protect Cat. And Cat also knows that the reason her mother is so insistent or persisting that Cat should be over this by now is because her family has no money for therapy between her brother's medication and her private school.

"I...I-I can't." Cat starts to choke up.

"Why? You're such a fucking failure Caterina! Grow up!" her mother explodes before storming out of the room. Failure. The insult circles around in her head. Failure. Her mother's right. She is a failure. She just makes everyone around her unhappy.

"I...I..." her father stammers over his words. His big brown eyes are wide and brimmed with sorrow. It looks like he wants to apologize, looks like he's going to say something that expresses his woefulness of her situation, but he instead clams up and just shakes his head. He heads over to the stairs before throwing one last look over his shoulder and saying, "I'll talk to her...I...I'm...It's..." And then he gives up and goes up the stairs, his feet falling heavily against the wooden contraption.

So she's left alone in the room, shaking, on the verge of tears. She can't really truthfully say that this has never happened to her before, but it still rattles her. Makes her wonder why she can't be a better person. Why she can't ever seem to please anyone. Why she's such a horrible whore. She slowly gets on her hands and knees and then crawls under the cocktail table. She knows it's futile, that it won't do anything for her and will certainly not improve the situation, but she likes knowing something is over her head. That she's not completely abandoned and even if she's all alone, she still has this small shelter that will look out for her. That will protect her.

Cat curls up in a ball and rests her head against her knees, breathing deeply, trying to imagine that she's safe. That nothing, that no one, will ever harm her again. Will ever make fun of her again and tell her that she's a worthless slut. That she can't fucking do anything right. Can't even fucking please her own parents. Doesn't even know how to fucking act like a normal human being.

"Stop it! Just stop it!"

Her mother is yelling at her father. Her screams echo throughout the house and they come again and again. She never hears her father respond though. She knows he would never raise his voice. Knows he would never go against her mother.

She hears her brother crying in the room over. Loud noises make him cry. She wonders why she didn't notice his cries before. She wants to go help him, but that would mean walking upstairs and she knows that if she attempts to walk, her wobbly legs would give out.

Truth be told, she wishes her whole body would just "give out." Then she wouldn't have to deal with this...this...disappointment. This hatred. This self-loathing. This guiltiness. This sorrow. This...this anger. She wonders if her whole body was to just stop if anyone would miss her. If they would think to themselves, "Wow, I wished I had helped. I'm sorry and I wish she was here." She thinks the chances of that happening aren't very good. She doesn't think anyone would care.

Especially not her parents.

Her brother's cries die down as well as her parents arguments. There's a moment of just silence and she's aware that soon her mother of father will come down and say what they will. What they've decided...Or maybe not. Maybe they've forgotten about her. Maybe they could care less if she just rotted under this table. It wouldn't be the first time they have thought such things. After all, it would be less work for them.

But, no, they haven't, and she lifts her head out of her position to see her father walking down the stairs, tense. She crawls out from underneath the table, but remains on the ground, gathering herself in a sitting position before glancing up at her father as he hobbles over to her. She knows it's odd, but she's still sure that at this point if she even tried to stand she would just fall right back down.

"Caterina...You will be going to therapy...We will be withdrawing you from Hollywood Arts," is all he says. Then he just stands there quietly, twiddling his thumbs, perhaps waiting for her to say something or trying to scourge up the courage to tell her something. After what seems like a few minutes of just staring at each other, he opens his mouth, but then quickly clamps it shut when her mother angrily stomps down the steps and over to the pair.

"You better hope we get a refund or we might not be able to pay the fee for your insanity and you'll just stay here and rot until you go to hell."

Her head snaps towards her mother, mouth gaping in disbelief and shock. Even her father is staring at her mother in complete surprise. Her mother looks first at her and then her father before looking down at the ground. Cat thinks she looks guilty, but her mother soon takes off upstairs, probably off to comfort her brother who just let out a loud wail.

"She just...She just feels let down...She doesn't mean it," her father tries to justify her mother's words. But he can't. No one can.

You'll just stay here and rot until you go to hell.

Cat doesn't think she, or anyone, can say those words and not mean anything of it. She wonders if this was how her mother always felt. Let down.

Her father's voice rings in her head. Let down. Her mother was let down. She let her mother down. She always knew she was a failure, but to know her mother thought nothing of her and wanted her to rot in hell...She didn't know what to do. She thinks of that time when she was younger, when she was returned to her family. How happy everyone had been. Everybody was smiling and cheering. She wonders if that was an act. If her mother was let down even then. She knows it's absurd, but she just can't help thinking these things, because believe it or not, she's always felt guilty for wasting their money on a private school, so she's tried to make it up to her parents. Particularly her mom. But it seems to have never worked.

Cat slowly drags herself up till she's standing. She's more dazed than dizzy and she finds she can walk. Walk up the stairs, down the hall, past her parents, and into her room. She wobbles over to her dresser and grabs her sleeping pills. She doesn't take much, just enough to knock her out for a bit. She crumples to the floor in a heap. She wishes that she wasn't a let down. She wishes that she was better.

And as the pills take effect and she starts to drift off, she wishes, just one wish above all the others, that maybe...just for once, she could perhaps please her mother.

Author's Note: Yes, I do realize that beds in a mental institution are rare and only given to suicidal patients! But the characters don't ;) And there's a bunch of other things but I have reasons! Anyway, you'll see what happens! I promise I'm not going to make up random stuff about mental institutions...I am researching them! :) Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Drop a review if you liked? :)