Fandom: Victorious
Title: Point of View
Chapter: Twenty-Two
Point of View: Cat Valentine
Trigger warning for sexual assault.
This can not be happening. How the hell can this be happening? My feet felt like they were welded to the floor of the stage.
I can't breathe. It's too fast- all of it. I stumble; I inhale and choke on sweat. Help! My eyes search for Jade's; she is the only one who can know how I am feeling. Her face is stone cold; her eyes slit in anger. Arms straight at her side, hands clenched in two white-as-sheet fists. I want to reach out to her to rush into her arms. My feet refuse to move, however. We are only inches apart, but it feels like miles.
My mom is in a frenzy screaming for someone to cut the mic. Jade looks how I feel inside like she had a heart attack. Her breathing was labored, and her palms felt sweating. She felt it would burst, her heart. She looked like she couldn't think anything, only that her chest might get crushed any minute and her heart might burst open. "Oh lord," I silently prayed, "just save us this once." Jade turns slowly; her head turns so slowly it indicates she must be in pain.
I wanted to grab my mother's hands, but I couldn't. The images and sounds of Jade and I naked, making love playing on six different screens, make me sweaty. My stomach is turning so painfully that it doubles me over. I gag.
I felt like my life was running out of me. My entire body felt so weak. My mom has always complimented me on my fingers, perfect for grazing the ivy keys of the piano. Now my mom won't look in my direction, and when I look at my fingers, I see they are shaking uncontrollably.
Trying to catch my breath, I tried to reach out to her arm but to no avail. My hands weren't following my brain.
"Cat, honey. Why don't we get out of here." Tori reaches out to grab my shoulders, but she startles me. I jump back, feeling as if my heart has exploded out of my chest. My eyes widen so wide they hurt my lids.
I'm trying to breathe, but I can't. Someone was clutching my throat, stopping me from taking full breaths. But there was no one touching me. Now I'm standing alone. Tears started trickling down my eyes as I realized this might be the end of my career. The network will surely fire me.
Us. The network will fire us. I'm not the only one on this recording. I glance again at Jade. Her entire world has been shattered.
My mother told me years ago, when we first started acting; there would be days like this. Days when the industry or our enemies would try to bring us down to our knees. She always told me to breathe when I felt stuck in second gear.
Breathing would take too much of my energy right now. Time is passing. I can feel it. I can't control it. How is breathing so damn hard? I do it every day without thinking. Course life was simple.
I look up, and the whole room's spinning. My feet have suddenly found a way to move, but it's too fast. The world is spinning. Too fast. I can't grab anything to hold onto. I can't control my thoughts. I want to run to Jade's arms. She always takes my care away. My life can be overcomplicated, my doctors have prescribed drugs for my anxiety and depression, and people tell me to medicate. I hate how those pills make me feel.
"Good, now make a fist," Tori tells me softly, rubbing my shoulders. She watches me slowly do as she says to me, though shakily. "Now, breathe in" she performed an inward motion with her hands. "And out," she breathed out with me, watching me.
"Jade!" my mother's voice snaps me to the present. I watch as Jade takes off. Where is she going? Why is she leaving me here to do this alone? My blood is boiling. The sky feels like it's closing in on me. I wish this shit were fabricated, or all of this was a bad dream. My heart beat too hard; the only way I knew what was happening was real.
The eyes are staring at me at the gasps of the audience. The cameras rushed to capture all of my reactions. It's too real.
Just keep breathin' and breathin' and breathin' and breathing. I keep repeating it, but it's hard when the clouds suffocate my airways.
Their gasps are so loud. They hurt my ears. I want to turn away from the screens, but they are all around me. Jade's moans fill the air as my body thrusts into hers. How could a beautiful moment between two people who love and respect each other be turned into something dirty and shameful?
I felt like I would panic without Jade by my side. I didn't want to do it in public, especially not in front of my friends. They would never understand. I know I had to get out of there fast. Or everyone will make fun of me. The kids from school are already whispering, holding up their cell phones. Whistling. "Cat, Call! Hey, I got a ride for you, baby. No plastic is needed! You like it rough. I got you!"
I push myself to get out of here. My feet manage not to trip as I run down the steps this time.
I was shoving past Tori and Andre, who stood there in shock.
I used a secret passageway in an underground tunnel going from the stage to the courtyards. I slip into the bushes. Running. Fast. My legs burn my heart races. My stomach twists. I cover my mouth, knowing I am going to vomit. I pass by the crowd undetected. No one k owns these paths better than Jade and I. We ran them together hundreds of times as kids.
The resort-like acres stretch on for miles. Rolling Hills' antique terra-cotta roofs that are brilliantly connected through gardens and courtyards protect me as I push my legs harder and faster. My legs stumble, giving out as my stomach rises. I fall against a stone bench outside the rose gardens gagging, unable to stop the heaving or coughing. Bile rises and excels from my lips. The taste is sour and nasty, just like Remi's.
She has no idea what she's done to me. Why would she do this? How can anyone be so vile?
Remi broke Jade's heart and crushed her soul without blinking. She took something which meant the world to me. She opened a private moment for the world's eyes to view—someone so precious to me. I would instead break my own heart than see her hurt.
I can't count the tears streaming down. They are unstoppable. My legs are shaky as I wipe my mouth and finish vomiting. Sitting on the bench, I take a few minutes to try to breathe my chest still hurts and squeezes violently.
Closing my eyes, I don't try to stop the tears. Is this punishment from Jesus? He says women who sleep with women are sinners, and all sinners are dammed under his orders. Did he send Remi as his messenger?
When we fail to keep God's commandments, we are morally guilty before Him and need His forgiveness. The problem isn't just that we feel guilty; we are guilty, regardless of how we think. I might not feel guilty because I have an insensitive conscience dulled by sin, but if I've broken God's law, I am guilty, regardless of how I think. So, why should I cry when I brought this on myself? I sinned twice. I gave myself away before marriage, d; I laid with another woman. Two sins. Two judgments. Two verdicts. Guilty
Does the Bible forbid homosexual behavior? I know the Bible does not forbid homosexuality, but rather, the Bible forbids homosexual behavior. This is an important distinction. Being homosexual is a state or an orientation; a person who has a homosexual orientation might never express that orientation in actions. By contrast, a person may engage in homosexual acts even if he has a heterosexual orientation. The Bible condemns homosexual actions or behavior, not having a homosexual orientation. I willingly sinned by having sex with another woman.
One I am not ashamed of or regret. Even a little. So, does this make my sins unforgiving?
Slowly I walk the grounds past the rose gardens, which have a beautiful scent, one I usually love; at this moment, it makes me sicker. Wrenching into the bushes, the acid burns my throat. The aftertaste clings to my tongue. I have to stop and vomit again.
The putrid smell of rotten bronchi hits my nose. Gross, I'll never fucking eat bronchi again; thanks, Remi. I force myself to take it. I'm unsure how much time passes before my stomach stops its violent spasms. When I do, I am left weakened, but the bench is too far behind me now, so I force my legs to keep moving as painful as each step is. Dizziness is quickly overtaking me.
I finally stop at the gorgeous fountain surrounded by beautiful rolling green hills and dynamic landscaping opening up to the cottage, which has a dramatic yellow façade. A foyer with arched doorways leads into the porch. Dan Ostermiller created two bronze dolphin fountain
s and built a Versailles-inspired pergola. Canary Island date palms lend vertical visual interest around the pool. I collapse on edge. I was closing my eyes. Today can't end soon enough. I toss a penny into the water—the surface ripples. Speaking softly, I swirl a finger into the water.
"Aunt Caitlin, can you hear me? Is this the real you?
"Yes, sweetie. I am here. Talk to me, my little love. I can feel you are hurting."
"Where do you live these days?"
"Sweetie, I live in heaven now. The streets here are so beautiful. They are paved in gold. You would love it here. When I tap dance, you can hear the echo for miles."
"Aunt Caitlin. I need you. Come back, please.
"Ooh, baby girl. I Cannot come back. I wish I could. I can sense you and Jade need me. I don't know what is happening."
"Tell me. My darling. What happened?"
"I don't know how it all went so wrong. So fast. I swear we have been good girls. Something needs to be fixed. I'm scared."
"Cat. You will always be my little girl, even if my flesh didn't birth you. I gave birth to you in my heart. I am always there to back you up. Don't be sad. It doesn't suit you. Here in heaven, we can't cry, but my heart would cry a thousand tears if it were capable. A mother's greatest pain is hearing their child hurt."
"It's been five years, aunt Caitlin. I miss you. Jade needs her mama. You have no idea how awful today has been for her. C-can you see us? Hear us?"
"I took it for granted when you were here. I am so sorry. My heart hurts. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. I wish I could see you one more time. Hear your whispered words of encouragement. What would you say to us? I know you wouldn't judge us. Would you be happy, though? Am I the person you would want your little girl to be with? Do I make you proud?"
I'm scared, looking around. It is cold, dark, and lonely. The usual warmth I get from sitting by her prized fountain is gone. It sent a shiver down my spine. "Cat?" wiping my eyes, I look up to see three teenage boys approaching me. My body tenses. It's too dark to make out their features. Do I know them?
I try to stand. My legs are sore and shaky. "here, let me help." The largest of the boys rushes forward. I can't move fast enough to get out of his grip. Is this a nightmare? Did I fall asleep? I am not a stranger to nightmares. Who hasn't woken up in a feverish sweat with a racing pulse or pounding heart? Whose eyes have never wildly searched their room for the phantoms of a dream? I wish this were a nightmare.
The boy's hands grab my elbows so tight and pulls them back it feels like lug nuts being tightened on a tire; I feel the tendons stretched to their breaking point. I scream. He laughs. His mouth presses to my ears. "I have a knife; if you scream again, I'll slit your throat."
My body freezes. My mind races. Why is this happening? Who are these boys? Why are they coming after me? Where is Jade? I need her. Why isn't she here?
We should be dealing with this together. Not alone.
"Push her to the ground. Let's make this quick." The command comes from another boy. His voice is softer and calmer, but there's a sister tone behind his words. As panicked as I am, I remember one comment Amanda made: "if you are ever attacked, fight for your life. Even if it means not kicking or screaming, get details. Tattoos. Eye colors. Skin color. Accents. Your main job is to stay alive. Living through the trauma is better than dying to avoid the trauma."
Calm boy. That's what I will call him. His eyes are green. They almost shine brighter than the gleam of the moonlight on the water. His eyes dance in amusement. Not because they're his best feature. Because they are laughing at my pain, he's evil. Worse than the large boy who threatened me. Because the calm boy wants to make me less afraid, he uses his charm to distract his victims.
I know it's going to happen. I am going to be raped. I will be his victim. Every part of me wants to fight. To kick to scream. But the threat lingers inside my brain. Suppose I take the chance and scream. I don't know if he has a knife. I might not live through the trauma.
So I choose silence. I couldn't focus on what was happening. The more the giant boy laughs deeply, his laugh reminds me of a shark. His hands are clumsy and sweaty, yet they hold me down without flinching. His thumb has a birthmark on it. It looks like a thunderstorm bolt.
Calm, boy, unzips. "Are you getting this Rage?" "Sure, I am a buddy. The phone is recording. Do your worst. The slut will love it. So, will Remi."
He rips my shirt I flinch. I don't move. Large boy's hands have a powerful grip on me, one arm across my chest. The other over my throat. Air is hard to find.
A breeze hits my bare skin. I can't shiver. The fear has a grip on me as tight as a large boy. His breath stinks like cigars and Vodka. "Your skin is soft, baby. I'm going to enjoy this. So very much." The calm boy speaks, and his voice holds a southern accent. Not Georgia. Or Alabama. His dialect sounds closer to a twang, which is more common as you head further north and west and is faster and sharper to the ear. The twang can sound almost nasally, and the "R" sound is more pronounced.
"Aah'm fixin' to win this prize. Make sure you're getting the action down south. She isn't going to mind. She a little slut she used to being featured in porn videos."
"Does the prize still count, Terry? If she ain't a virgin no more?"
"Don't use my real name, dumbass. To answer your question, she is still a virgin. She had girl sex that ain't real sex. Not unless a girl lies with a man. Don't worry; I'll make sure your first time feels excellent."
I couldn't focus on the pain, the thrusting pain, the violation. The guilt. Not that. It was easier to think about the stones on the pond. The ones that Caitlin had chosen herself, asking myself and Jade for our approvals. I remember the day we were ten, and Jade was so sick after treatments I had to hold her up. I remember the smell of her jasmine perfume. Jade had seen the granite and marble swirls of black, Grey, and purple and fallen in love with them. The man at the store said it would be beautiful when the water grazed over their surface. That man had been right about that. But they were so hard and cold now against my back.
My stomach turns as his hand slides across my breasts, nails grazing my nipple, twisting it. I scream inside. The pain rips through my body. He's in a rhythm now, grunting. Old pieces of me shatter; my body abandons me. He's pulled me on like a glove: their laughter has gotten louder. The boy with the phone in his hands. His sneakers are red, like his hair. They have a semicolon on their sides.
A semicolon means your story is still ongoing. My story won't end here. "Damn it, look what you made me do if you weren't so sexy. So small, so delicate. I wouldn't be doing this. You're my favorite actress. Cat, you must toughen up to survive in an industry as cold as Hollywood."
"I don't even like Remi. I'm only fucking you to make you tougher. You'll thank me one day, baby."
His hair is greased back, and he has too much gel. He reeks of cologne and barbecue sauce. I stare at the water. Its ripples reflect my soul, forever changed. My bra pulled up above my breasts. He keeps squeezing them and kissing them. My skin crawls. I hold my breath. I wait.
I feel sick.
Afterward, he zips up and kisses me hard on my lips. I feel ashamed, and the shame pierces my chest like a lit match on my skin. Angry heat fills my cheeks, my breath which I still hold, and my heart, which has yet to beat regularly. I'm filled with glass, nails, and gunpowder, ready to explode.
So, I scream as soon as they let go of me. My rapist stumbles over his jeans. 'Cat?"
Sutton's voice calls out.
"Help!" I won't stop screaming.
The boys scramble to get away quickly. Sutton gains speed fast. He's the number one quarterback in California for high school football, and he didn't get that way by slacking in the off-season.
My brother works out daily for three hours, doing Cardio, lifting weights, kickboxing, and running ten miles. Cursing, my rapist leaves his jeans and takes off with a flash. The camera boy isn't far behind, but lug nuts isn't able to get up so quickly.
Sutton tackles him slamming his fist into the kid's face. "Sutton! What's going on? Oh, my God! Cat, what did they do to you?" Rylee's scared voice is confused.
"Raped, call Aunt Shay, hurry, please. I don't feel so well."
Rylee is beside me in an instant, years streaming down his eyes. He takes off his jacket throwing it over my body. "Why would they do this? How can someone be so sick?"
My eyes feel heavy, and my body is shaky. "Remi challenged her fans. To find me and take my virginity. She offered them a prize. Guess it didn't matter to these pig's that I wasn't a virgin. They said being with a woman didn't count. He would make me a woman."
My voice is raspy. My head is pounding. "Remi, did this?" Sutton's voice is coldly calculated. He stands over me, fists bloody. A groan from behind me tells me the boy is knocked out but still feeling the pain of his attacker. Good.
"Yes. Remi did this to me. She sent those pigs on a mission. I don't feel so good."
"Cat, it's going to be okay. I promise you. Rylee, did you call Aunt Shay?"
"Yes, she's on her way with the police."
"Good, stay with Cat. Don't touch her; her body is evidence."
"Where are you going, Sutton?"
"To make our cousin sorry she's still drawing breath."