The music was loud to dramatizing the moment the gun on my neck. The gunshot sound on Rihanna's song ended with a loud echo that roamed throughout the whole house. I pulled the trigger on my revolver. Nothing happened. Confused, I checked my cylinder. All of the small balls were placed in every slot. I socked the cylinder back in place and shoot a ball across the room. It went through the wall. It still works. I placed it back against my head and shot it again. Nothing happened.
"Something must be wrong with this stupid thing." I muttered irritably.
I walked into the kitchen to look for knives. There should be knives still in the knife holder. I took one and thrust it into my chest. The knife bent. My eyes felt as though they bulged out of my head from the ejected air leaving my lungs. I coughed for a second, then regained steady breathing. I gawked at the damaged object. How come it didn't work? I grabbed each of the knives inside the holder and stabbed all of them one by one in different parts of my body. Every last blade bent from the pressure. How is this possible? I thought, looking at all the knives on the ground.
I checked under the kitchen sink's cabinet for some bleach. We had two and one of them contained lye in it behind the Windex. I experimented with a few drops of lye and bleach to see if the bottle would explode before. It didn't. Gotcha. Now, it will be useful for my attempt to get rid of myself before my enemies find me.
My mouth opened wide, chugging some of the liquid. I tasted and felt horrible. Finally, something worked. Actually... n-no, no... it didn't. I leaned over the toilet while vomiting nothing else, but the bleach and lye I had just swallowed. I felt light and fresh, like all the harmful stuff was cleansed out of my body. I felt like a clean shirt, fresh out of the washer. I looked inside the gallon of Clorox bleach. Abashed, I picked it up and tilted the opening above the toilet. Nothing came out. I know I didn't drink all of it!
In the attic, I found a rope and tied it around a pole. Then, I dropped the rest of the rope down the ladder. I climbed to the middle of the ladder while trying make a noose. This will be my final attempt. If this doesn't work... I breathed in, tugged the rope around my neck, and kicked the ladder beneath me. Still nothing.
I felt no pain and didn't gasp for air. In fact, I was breathing perfectly fine. Feeling annoying at this point, I crossed my arms and swayed my feet like a swing. All of this just didn't make any sense. I loosened the noose and fell on my face.
"Ow." I groaned, rubbing my face. I began raving on and on while angrily punching the air, "Oh! But, that hurt! Son of a crying biscuit butt!" I started murmuring lame insults around the house.
I sat in a corner of the kitchen, biting my nails. Why am I going insane? I contemplated these strange "what the hell is going on" happenings. I was irritated. Was this some final destination crap? I can't kill myself? The grim reaper must do it? What the heck! There was no explanation as to why the revolver stopped working whenever I pointed it at myself, or why the knives bent, or why the bleach disappeared. Not even the noose worked. I came up with illogical and enraged ideas that really made me believe I needed a straitjacket.
I stood up, speed walked to the kitchen drawers where other weapons were held, and I slammed my hand on the countertop. I screamed at my enemies, "Cut it out, you bastards! I'm not about to let you kill me! I will die on my own time by my own hands and I chose now! Let me do this!"
I pulled out a forks drawer finding nothing, but plastic, flexible spoons. There were piles of them. I freaked out. Where were the forks?! Those silver unbendable dining utensils! The spoons made it hard to reach the bottom. Finally, I found a napkin. There was a note on it at the bottom of the drawer. I lifted it up to my face and it read:
Nope...
I dropped it and backed up. "Ugh! Why," I argued?!
I turned around facing the island counter. A different note was lain perfectly still with more words on it. I read it:
25 Jesus said unto her, I am the ressurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall live:
26 And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believeth thou this?
My heart felt as though it dropped toward my knees, which made me literally drop to my knees. I-I was speechless. All I could do was nod to agree with the note. This quote was one of my favorites from John 11. This couldn't be happening to someone like me. I dropped my head and whimpered a little. I began to feel embarrassed. What if this really was God warning me to quit?
This wasn't... I couldn't think straight. I couldn't believe it. Not after what I tried to consistently commit. "Who is doing this? Why would you...?" I yelled angrily
A picture fell on the floor from the only empty cabinet. I picked it up. This picture was Ozario's portrait. I started crying so much that my dark mood turned light. Could my best friend among the whole Cullen household be involved in this? I stood up, tightly holding the picture to my chest. This can't be happening, can it? I turned to the stairs, finding another painting – The Silver Wolf painting – slide down with a quote on it:
9 But, when ye shall hear of wars and commotions, be not terrified for these things must come to pass...
18 But there shall not an hair of your head perish
19 in your patience possesses ye souls
Luke 21, endurance. As displayed on the picture, they were comforting words. My eyes wouldn't stop shedding tears. My heart felt lighter and lighter. I was swept away in a peaceful aura. The music changed from depressing songs to soothing melodies that coaxed my nerves into a more positive direction. I walked upstairs until watching another fallen picture slide to my feet. I picked it up and read it:
14 Wait on the lord: be of good courage and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the lord.
Psalms 27; it talks about protection. I ran into my room with all the dead people pictures surrounding me in a horrible circle. I shut my eyes tight, then opened them, again. The entire room soon consisted of good memories at the Cullen's house. Funny how my Deadies portraits where place precisely to create this one large happy collage. They all shared the same quotes. I laid down on the bed still clinging onto the Ozario portrait. I looked at the last quote on the Cullen collage:
"Yea, though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil:
For thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of thine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil;
My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."
Psalms 23 1-6
Ozario
Psalms 23, loneliness. It had Ozario's signature on it. He was involved in this somehow. This really was him doing this for me. He knew these were my favorite quotes that I had constantly read every night before bed. I touched the picture of the happy family. It contained my mom, grandma, and father on it too – smiling back at me. It was a full body image. Though being a Christian hurt me, it was worth it to keep me sane. I thought I had lost that but I hadn't lost... you.
I looked around the room at all of the faces that weren't pale or dead anymore. They showed bright smiles at me and were completely healed. I cried limitlessly. The tears just wouldn't stop. These people were my family. I remembered their faces like this. Happy. It hurt and, yet, made me happy to see them smile again. I was swallowed up in joy.
"Catalina Yong, get your ass down here!" A shout came from downstairs.
I jumped and gasped. Ozario! He scared me so much I started looking for a place to hide. I rushed under my bed in hopes he wouldn't find me. My bedroom door slammed open. Ozario's feet slowly glided toward the bottom of my bed. He dropped a heavy bag by his feet. Suddenly, he knelt down to grab my hidden feet and he dragged me out. Ozario's expression was extremely engulfed in rage.
"Don't hide! You know that I know how to find you," yelled the angered Ozario!
I nodded, profusely. I clutched on his canvas tighter.
He confronted me about my troublesome failures of suicide attempts, "Why the hell would you try to kill yourself? If the gun didn't, why would you be so stupid to get a knife and stab yourself! If it didn't work the first time why the fuck you keep trying? Are you a psychopath? No?! What about Carlisle or Esme? Huh? Your mom, and grandma, and family didn't protect you so you can die! They wanted you to live a long happy life. What about me?
You're just going to leave like that? Stand up when I'm talking to you!" I stood up and he pretended to slap sense back into me- not too hard. He shouted, "You needed that!"
I sat on my bed, holding my cheek in shock. He hit me... like a feather. He just... grazed my face. That's worse than an actual slap. That's so creepy. He started huffing and puffing with a tear coming down his cheek. He fell back on the floor, leaning against the wall. Soon, his breathing faded away. Ozario's hands slowly covered his face. I watched him tremble for a moment. He must have been so freaked out. I looked around my room. My pictures were back to normal. I walked up to one of them, staring intensely at it. There was a ripping noise behind me. I looked back at Ozario, who tore up one of my Deadies canvases.
"No!" I yelled, running up to him. I started tugging him back to prevent him from ripping another portrait. "Stop, don't!" I shouted.
He glared at me. "Cati, these pictures, these memories, are being held hostage in a box in your mind. It's time you release them to a better place. Do you understand?" He asked.
"B-ut..." All of these pictures, they turned out to be my memories the entire time. I knew that for sure. I took one of them and ripped it apart. I felt twenty times lighter. "Heh... O-okay." "Doesn't that feel better?" Ozario asked. He walked toward my bedroom stereo.
I looked at the picture and back at him. I smiled and cheered, "...Yea!"
He played funky music and started snickering. "BEAT IT, beat it, BEAT IT, beat it!"
I shook my head. "No." I moaned with a funny glare at Ozario. I took another canvas down.
"What? Come on." He chuckled, leaving the songs playing, anyway.
We danced around while ripping up canvases into confetti. We jumped on my bed and fell off a few times, laughing about it. The paint I had left was used to draw funny images on some canvases. The new pictures replaced the old ones on my walls. Ozario helped me clean my mom's room and fix up some things I shot up downstairs. My room remained a mess. We didn't feel like cleaning it. Ozario and I looked at each other, debating on rather we should.
"Do you want some pizza?" I asked.
Ozario blinked as he thought for a second. "Yea... Let's go." He replied.
O.C. and I sat in a booth at Pacific Pizza. We were quiet for a long time after finishing our food. I couldn't figure out what was going on in Ozario's mind. His posture appeared graceful and confident and he showed no emotion. His interest was directed toward something out the window. I noticed he hadn't blinked for a long time. I couldn't tell if my best friend had been replaced by a dummy or something. Still, Ozario was a magnificent statue to observe. I wanted to ask him about the theory I had about him. No matter how crazy it sounded out loud. I normally start asking with other questions, though.
"Onyx. I saw him. My wolf. He saved me when those black ones attacked. Do you know him?"
Ozario's eyes slowly shifted to look at my face. "Um... Yea. You can't see him right now, though. It isn't good for you to see him until your fear goes away."
"My grandma used to say, 'Any time is best to prepare yourself.' Will you show me soon?"
Ozario's brows jumped. He chuckled and remarked, "Maybe..." He said, "I figured you'd know by now."
I sighed. "I've had my theory since the day I brought you into my bedroom. First, you arrived at my house with my notebook and we talked about your 'preferred disguise.' The thought made me believe I was going insane for thinking it could've been possible. Then again, my wolf did disappear after you visited... Or, did he? Later that night, you showed up after, supposedly, hearing when I gave your other half a name. You couldn't possibly have been that close to Onyx and I or hear me with all that wind blowing. Then, you hung outside my window like it was no big deal, and even jumped out of it like a maniac. You never leave any traces behind whenever you vanish. That magical doll-hair 'trick,' doesn't seem like a real trick anymore. And, I kept reminding myself that it didn't make sense for the Cullens to rescue me and you were not there with them. I mean, you've saved me before. At first it was just a theory, but..." I rattled on.
"But?" His head tilted.
I recalled, "I caught you drinking blood in the forest. Yet, I still hoped that I was wrong. In the house, you yelled at me with red eyes like Onyx's eyes were at the trails. You know, both of you have the same eye color. So, to see that both of you can change your eye color... I..." I huffed through my nose, becoming irritated that I hadn't pieced these things together sooner. "Your skin felt so cold, like the dead, when I pulled you away from tearing my portrait. Then, your eyes returned to its silver color again and your temperature rose sky high like it usually is. You were back to normal."
Ozario leaned over the table with his hands linked together.
He closed his eyes. "I love how you're so observant. You leave nothing unseen. You really are a dangerous woman," he complimented.
"Well... I try," I added. I thought about something. "So? Do you have to kill me, now?"
Ozario shook his head with his eyes still shut. A song played on the radio, "Count on me" by Bruno Mars. Ozario took something from his pocket and held it up. It was the gold key my mother always kept around her neck. She told me I couldn't get it until things died down enough to buy some time. He handed it to me with a smile. I warily took it from him and held it tight in my hands. Why would my mother give him the Key to my Memories, as she used to call it? When did she...? Had Ozario accepted protecting me? No, it... it isn't fair.
Ozario scratched his head and clarified, "I tried to tell you before you ran off. Yes, you are my responsibility. I made my choice after I first saw you. I fought but blamed myself. I made my promise to your mother, Cati. So, no matter what you say, I will stick by you. You're my special kitty cat. Why do you think I've been doing all these things for you? I love you."
Ozario was my wolf and I was his kitty cat. He surely felt serious about me. I could see it in his eyes. I knew he liked me, but to feel so strongly about me and risk his life for me without question is crazy scary. I couldn't think about losing him, but I couldn't think of running away one more time, either. All my thoughts about leaving him or the Cullens were gone. He loved me, and I loved him. I shook those thoughts out my head, the ones that made me want to stay with the Cullen family. No, no. I could just run away again. I need to, don't I?
I froze and hesitated at first because it was way too difficult to do. Come on. Move! You can't get him killed, Catalina! Finally, I slid out of the booth and rush out the door. I couldn't get far. My feet stopped in front of the restaurant door and wouldn't budge. I put a hand on my forehead and looked at my key.
I started crying and, of course, the clouds decided I needed a shower of rain on my head. Ozario stood behind me, fencing me in his arms. I turned around and hugged him back. He really makes me feel invincible when I'm at my worst. Ozario snuggled me in his warmth. He comforted my hurt emotions with his peaceful aura. I couldn't imagine anything else, but this as I unwillingly smiled a little.
"Let the rain wash all your troubles away. Let them all go away," he cooed.
I nodded and sobbed some more. Still, I remained smiling as I whispered, "Thank you, Oni."
"Oh, Dios mío. How many nicknames are you going to give me." He asked, laughing.
"M-mm." I shrugged, moaning an "I don't know" reply. "I hadn't settled yet."
Ozario and I laughed, holding each other tighter. Once we left the restaurant, we held hands all the way back to Rosalie's car. I found Ozario's touch comforting. Why is Ozario so comfy to be around? A smile crept upon my face as I thought about all the conversations we've had today.
Ozario glanced at me from the driver seat. "Ew. There you go, getting mushy again."
I rolled my eyes. Ugh... He can be so annoying, sometimes. I love it. "Ugh. Shut up," I said, teasingly.
When Ozario and I returned to my home, we lay under the bed covers. My room was still a mess. Ozario held me tight in his arms. He caressed my short, black hair. I felt so tired after tonight. Ozario chuckled. He said something, but I could barely hear him.
I fell into a deep sleep to his heavenly heat throughout the night.
OZARIO'S VIEW: THROUGH THE NIGHT
I was cuddling Cat tightly in my arms. I never wanted to experience her absence again. Her silky texture of hair slipped through my fingertips. Cat left her mouth open a little. As a result, she started to drool. I wiped off her mouth. I chuckled at the sight of her sweet face next to mine and saliva oozing out the fissure of her lips again.
"Cati, chill. You're making an ocean in here."
"Niagara Falls..." she groaned in her sleep.
What? I laughed at Catalina's reply. At night, I loved messing with Cat. She's always been talking in her sleep, and she's never had a clue I picked on her. Indeed, I adored everything of her. She could be so charming ... when she's not crazy as hell.
I started singing, "What does the fox say?"
"Meow..." Cati murmured a perfect imitation of a kitten.
I shook my head. At this point, she would be able to answer everything with anything. I tried something else, howling.
"Moo..."
Okay. I need to get out of Catalina's bed before I wake her up. I was trying to restrain my laughter by covering my mouth, but it was so hard. Her face was as exquisitely adorable as she was asleep. I slipped out of her covers gingerly. Cati's room looked hideous, so I was cleaning her as silently as a mouse. I knew she must have been very tired, because she had been drooled again. I shook my head and walked to her side to wipe it off her cheek.
While Cati was asleep, a frown crossed her face. Maybe she's having a nightmare again. I knelt beside her, slipping my hand under her soft left cheek. Her face was relaxed in the palm of my hand. Some hours had passed. I was watching the sun wake up to the sky. I haven't left Catalina's side since her nightmare. The sun had touched her face. Slowly, she opened her eyes and found me in front of her. Catalina took hold of my hand, sitting up.
"Good morning, Oni."
