Black and Blue

Smash.

The dishes. The glass. The lights.

Stab. 

The walls. The sheets. The furniture.

Scream. 

Rory is in her bedroom when she releases a cry loud enough to shake the walls. There are scratches on them, curses, drawn with a knife. Still, no one comes. In a raging fire of fury she runs into the living room and yells, “Did you not hear me?” 

Her father stares lazily at the screen, eyes drooping in painfully slow blinks. The haze from the tv casts blue on his hunching figure. 

“I could have been in trouble and you just sat here! Do you even care?” 

Not a single glance when he says, “You seem fine to me.” 

Before she can react, a voice beside her says, Wow. What have you done to deserve this?

On the other side of the window, beyond the curtain, is a black cat, stretching out its back and pawing at the window. She opens the latch and it swishes inside, tail swaying. Back and forth. Back and forth. Maybe it is simply not enough. The cat says, prancing on the kitchen countertop and stopping at the knife rack. He doesn’t care about the wall. He cares about you. Go on, take it. 

She picks up the knife, looking once at her dad. 

Unless you don’t think he’ll care. 

“Of course he’ll care. He’s my dad.” She brings the knife to her forearm and without thinking slashes an uneven line across the skin. At first there's nothing, just a burning pain, but soon little droplets of blood appear on the thin cut. The cat gives her a disappointed look but crawls onto her shoulder, featherlight. It will do. Go on, tell him. 

“Dad! I cut myself! Look, see?” She holds out her arm, showing him the gash. He looks over once, for only half a second before sighing, standing up, and slamming the door to his bedroom behind him. 

Her heart cramps in her chest. “But dad, I did this for–” she suddenly feels silly. She did it for his attention. 

The cat says, Oh wow. That's depressing. I guess he doesn’t care about you. Oh well. It jumps back down to the floor and swishes around her feet. You have me now. 

She slumps over and drags herself back to her bedroom. 

–

On the way to school Rory hides in her hoodie. Outside is a blue mist, blurring the road ahead and showering her in fog. Beside her the cat leaps with joy. School sucks, don’t it? You know what would feel so much better? 

“Hm?” 

Skipping. I heard some kids go home and smoke the devil's lettuce–oh wait! You don’t even have your first kiss yet. You are so behind! 

“Am I really?” Though those things have nothing to do with each other, she glances over at the smokers who stand on the other side of the street. They’re passing around a lit cigarette, smoke spiraling into the air. Eh. You probably wouldn’t fit in anyways. The cat lets out a cry when it’s almost stepped on and it climbs back up to sit on her shoulder. Damn kids. None of them have manners. 

“Can they even see you?” 

No. But they should be wary of my presence. Hey look! It's the girl that called you a loser. 

“She never called me that.”

Right. But she probably said it behind your back. 

Rory groans. Inside the classroom she finds her usual spot, alone, and puts her head down.

The cat leaps onto the table. You don't need any of those brats anyways. They need their parents' love, but look at you! You’ve survived without it your entire life! The cat squeals when a boy slams into her table on purpose and knocks over her water bottle. The lid breaks open and spills onto the floor with a loud bang. She gasps, hurriedly trying to pick up the bottle and clean it up. She can feel their stares on her. He calls her a name and goes to his seat. 

She says to the cat, “Do you think they know about the cut?” 

Oh yeah. I bet they can see how insecure you are too. I mean, look at how embarrassed you were just because your water bottle fell! It reshapes around her shoulder. You know what would help you though? 

She watches as the cat moves like a shadow into one of the other girls bags and sets a razor blade on her lap. She says, “Last time it just hurt.” 

But that hurt distracted you from the pain right? And so what? Maybe if your parents ever found out you were serious about hurting yourself, they’d actually show you some love!

She sticks the razor into her pocket and raises her hand to go to the bathroom.

–

Days pass by. Keeping to herself at school and begging for attention at home. Eventually the need for attention fades and she keeps her hurt to herself. The cat is now three times as big as it was, its head almost reaches her hips. It’s eyes, a brilliant sapphire. 

One day on the way home, it begins to downpour. Sheets booming down on the concrete. Without an umbrella, she puts her hood up, though it doesn’t keep the rain from soaking through. Maybe this is what you deserve. 

Maybe this is what I deserve. 

Autumn leaves rest in puddles beneath her feet. They swoop through the air to brush the pavement. She smiles. This is nice. 

But it will only last for a couple of days until the snow starts to fall. And would you look at that? The cat, almost a shadow, slides through her shoes. Now your socks are wet. 

Shivering the rest of the few blocks home she makes her way to her house. The door is locked. Knocking, she yells to her mother to open up. In the kitchen her mother is cooking something, the music blasting. She doesn’t come to the door. She feels that she is about to explode when someone behind her says, “Hey, Rory right?” 

There is a girl on the sidewalk standing just past the gate of her house. At first Rory is shocked that she’d be talking to her. It's one of the girls from across the street at school. She doesn’t know what to say. 

“You locked out?” The girl smiles, showing an array of perfect teeth, “You can come to mine if you’d like.” 

Rory steps down the steps, laughing nervously “I’d like to but I’d need to change my socks first.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I have lots.” 

Rory smiles and they walk together through the rain. The cat shrinks, just a little.

–

Belle is cool. There are Metallica posters on the walls and she has a whole closet of clothes from the thrift. She wears graphic tees and has piercings gracing her ears and face. “How much did that one hurt?” Rory asks, pointing to her eyebrow.

“Not as bad as this one.” She points to the one on her bottom lip. “I would definitely recommend you get high for it,” she says this as she lights up a joint. Curiosity blooms in her stomach. 

“I’ve never smoked before.” 

“You wanna try?” she passes it over, her eyes are slightly squinted from the few hits she already took. Do it. You don’t want to look like a pussy. 

She takes the joint and inhales deeply coughing up clouds of smoke. Belle laughs, “Damn girl,” but she is smiling. The cat is gone for the rest of the afternoon. 

–

Rory stands outside. Her mind is fuzzy and she finds her hand hovering over the doorknob. 

The cat appears at her feet. “Do you think they’ll know?” 

Do they have eyes and a nose? 

“It’s not like they ever pay attention to me anyways.” She steps inside. The kitchen light is on, the food long put away. Her mother is doing the dishes, facing away when she asks, “Where have you been?” 

Rory swallows a lump. “Out. With a friend.” 

Her mother laughs, “You don’t have any friends.” 

You don’t. Belle just pities you.

Her father, still sitting in the living room, says, “Honey, do you smell that?” 

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. The cat gives a cruel laugh. 

“Smell what, dear?” 

“Think our daughter has been smoking weed.” 

If she could disappear, she would do it then. It all happens so quickly. There's a flash of blue apron and mother is in her face. Yelling. Screaming. Shoving. 

I have never seen her this mad before. 

Fight back. 

“It's not like you guys give a shit about me anyways! You never cared for me!” 

“How could we?” her father swipes back, “Our daughter is a drug addicted psycho!” 

I haven’t even thought to call you that yet. I’ll add it to my book!

“No no no I’m not a psycho!” 

“Look at you! You’re drawing on the walls, you’re cutting yourself! You’re certainly getting all the attention you wanted! Happy now?” She bursts into tears and runs into her room, ignoring her parents' demands to come back and talk to them. Slamming the door to block out the noise, she slides down to sit on the floor. Cradling her head between her knees. The cat lies lazily on the bed. Maybe it's time you really show them how much they’ve hurt you. 

“No please, please leave me alone.” She slams her hands on either side of her head, but the cat's voice echoes inside her head. 

Imagine how they’d feel. Crushed, their only daughter decides to take her life. Imagine your classmates, oh how horrible they would feel. Poor girl. Feels so alone she’d rather be dead. Or maybe, and this one's better. They won't even care! Maybe your parents will simply, I don't know, have another child? 

Please just leave me alone. She starts to punch herself in the head over and over. 

The cat's voice begins to overlap, there are hundreds of them, screaming in her mind. 

When you're dead, you won't ever have to feel alone. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. Except ruin your parents lives. 

The room starts to sway, her breath comes out in sharp puffs of air. The cat begins to morph into something big. Something that swallows her whole. Something dark that envelopes her in one. I know what you need. The darkness moves, creating a spot in her vision. There on the floor is a knife. Pick it up. 

She does and brings it to her wrist. Quickly now. Soon the pain will all go away. Just one swipe. She hesitates, lingering over her arm. Come on. You’ve done it before. 

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Let the steel touch your wrist. 

Her eyes snap open at the blaring noise. The phone is ringing. DON'T ANSWER IT. 

She does and holds it to her ear. It's Belle. “Hey Rory! You left your socks here, you want me to come over and drop them off?” 

HANG UP.

She places a hand over her other ear and asks rather loudly, “Can I please go over to yours?” 

“Are you OK?” 

“No. No, I'm not okay.” Slowly, the darkness begins to fade.

“I’ll leave the door open. Want me to stay on the line?” 

Rory says she’ll be ok and tucks the knife into her drawer. The shadow disintegrates back into a cat. Small and still on her bed. Eh. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it. Maybe instead we can binge that corny show you like and eat an entire bag of chips! OO! Or even better smoke so much we can’t even remember what happened tonight!

“That honestly sounds kind of nice right now.” She scoops the cat into her arms and leaves the room.