Page 29 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Spiral

Catherine POV

“Catherine!”

Catherine ignored her mother’s call, and snagged her bag from the hallway. Her shit was all over the house—discarded wherever it had fell from her hand when she was done with it. Usually that would be something that irritated her mother to no end, but lately, Catrina stopped trying to say anything at all about it.

It wasn’t doing any good.

Catherine still left her shit here and there, and Catrina’s yelling only fell on deaf ears. After all, she needed interest and desire to do something. Especially when it came to picking up her things, or keeping stuff clean.

Lately, Catherine had none of that.

Shrugging the bag over her shoulder, she headed down the stairs. Her mother continued calling her name, and Catherine kept ignoring her. She was almost to the front of the house when Catrina finally caught up with her.

Damn.

Almost made it.

“Catherine,” her mother said one last time before Catherine had enough.

“I’m going out.”

Maybe if she just told her, then Catrina would leave her alone. Her parents seem to be doing that a lot lately. As if they didn’t know what to do with Catherine, or how to deal with her behavior. Even the mood swings came at the most difficult, and unknown, times.

She was up, and then she was down in the next damn minute.

Her mind could be free, clear, and good. And then the next day? She could be dark, her thoughts blackened with rage, bitterness, or hate, and her body became tired. Tired of existing, and tired of trying. A deep ache in her heart that always seemed to travel through her bones never really left, even on the good days.

But the thoughts?

Her black emotions?

Those were the very worst.

Those were what frightened her the most. She had somehow become a vision of herself that she no longer knew, and one she didn’t recognize. A vision that sometimes couldn’t be bothered to try, not even to brush her hair. And on other days, that same vision would be of a young woman who used makeup and fake smiles to hide tear stains, and memories that never quite let her go for very long.

She could barely stand to look in the mirror a lot of the time because who was that woman looking back at her? She didn’t know who it was.

Certainly not her.

Or, it wasn’t who she wanted to be.

It wasn’t even close to who she used to be.

“Going where?” Catrina asked.

“Out,” Catherine said.

“Catherine, the least you can do is tell me where exactly you’re going to be tonight.”

Was that the least she could do?

Catherine figured the least she could have done was get out of bed that day. Because hell, most times, even that was a chore she didn’t want to do. And so, she had done exactly that. She was out of bed, she was talking, and being somewhat pleasant. She figured that should have been good enough for her mother, all things considered.

Catrina moved past her daughter, and blocked the front door. It wasn’t like her mother to be so physical, but a lot of things had changed lately.

The biggest of those changes being Catherine herself.