---##---¤¤---##---
Chapter 6. Changed Emotions
---##---¤¤---##---

    So, Christmas is over. I didn’t care to get out of bed the next day, Christmas Day. My head was killing me, and my parents left me alone. Probably afraid that I’ll call Social Services or something. Not that they would care.

    Marcus forced me out of bed at Boxing Day. My mother left him alone with the younger ones, so I had to get up and help him with Alex. I was really hung-over and Alex kept crying. My dad had left for another important meeting, Brussels I think. Probably fucking some broad down in Spain.

    Catalina called, but I didn’t bother to answer. I don’t know why, my spirit just left me at the instant second that vase hit my face. Without her, I’m nothing. How can I live with that? Marcus answered a few times, trying to convince me to speak to her. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

    I bet she’s worried. I feel bad.

    I haven’t talked to her in almost a week. Since my mother came back, I’ve been in my room, sulking, drinking and crying. There’s something wrong with me. I need help. I’ll die if this continues for much longer.

    It’s the day before New Years Eve. Lovely. It’s almost 7:00 pm, and I’m trying to talk myself into picking up the phone and dial Catalina’s number. It has to be done. When I finally get enough guts to do it, her phone is disconnected. I start to panic. I have to talk to her, now when I’ve made up my mind. I go through my bag. I know I have the number to Banks somewhere.

    Another try. Ah, the signals are going through. One, two, three- “Cathy Banks.” Ooops, never prepared for some stranger to answer.

    “Eh, is...” Who am I looking for? “Adam?”

    “Oh, wait.”

    Why did I ask for Adam, when I want to talk to Catalina? I’m stupid. “Yes, it’s me.”

    “I’m sorry,” I apologize, sounding pathetic. “It’s me. Is Catalina there?”

    “Yeah, sure. Hold on. You sound weird, is everything alright?”

    They have probably been discussing my absence. I’ve ignored Catalina’s phone calls all week, and I just know that she’s been unhappy because of that. So the others have probably allured the truth out of her. “Nah. I mean, yeah, everything’s fine.”

    “Okay... Hold on, I’ll get her.”

    I can hear voices in the background, something that sounds like ‘is it him?’. Then I hear the tapping of feet against the floor, and suddenly her voice greets me. “Hello? Fred?”

    Say something, you moron. “Yeah, hi. How are you?”

    “Where have you been all week?” she wants to know, I can hear that she’s sad.

    “Just busy, I guess. Sorry. I really wanted to talk to you, but...” What’s wrong? I used to be able to talk to her about everything. Confide in her, confess my mistakes. Now I’m just avoiding her. She’s the best thing I have. What if I lose her? Will that kill me? My parents have betrayed me. What in God’s name can assure me that she won’t betray me too?

    I don’t want to lose her. I just need to come up with a good lie. I hate lying to her, but I don’t want her to leave.

    Logic.

    “You sound drunk,” she mumbles. “Have you been drinking?”

    “Yeah. There were some mishappenings earlier, but it’s all good now.”

    “Did he hit you?”

    “No, come on!” I snort out a laughter. Technically, it’s true. The vase hit me. He just threw it. “Don’t worry about me, Lina. I’ll be fine. Just have a good time.”

    “Why can’t you come back earlier? I’ll go back to school, we could spend some time together. Just the two of us. I miss you so much, Fred,” she tells me. Then I hear her sniffle. I made her cry. I’m a fucking bastard too.

    “Catalina, don’t be sad. I’ll be back next week. In time for school and everything.”

    “I worry about you so much,” she explains, holding back her sobs. “I want you to come home to me. Please, come home.”

    Home is where the heart is, right? But right now, I have no heart left. My mother stomped on the last bit. And my dad definitely finished me off when he beat the crap out of me for getting drunk during Christmas. So, yeah, he did hit me after that vase was thrown. But now I’ve gotten used to lying, so I might just keep going.

    I told Catalina that I’m coming home. Soon. I didn’t tell her that everything I’ve ever believed in, turned out to be a lie. What if she’s a lie too? What if she’s not really in love with me? What if she goes behind my back, just like everybody else?

    Wouldn’t that be the last drop?

---##---¤¤---##---

    I don’t know what made me snap this time. My father has always been punching me, for being a failure and all that. I’ve never taken his abuse this hard before. It’s not worse than any other time, so why am I whimpering?

    Maybe the insults finally got to me? The physical abuse ain’t all that fun either. But for every time he goes after me, I feel myself drifting away even further from reality.

    Reality, where my friends and my girlfriend exist. They are nowhere to be seen right now. So I figure that they might not exist at all. This is the reality now. My father’s harsh words, my brothers’ cries of despair, my drunk mother. The ideally family. Of course, only I can see this, since it’s my reality.

    I can’t even talk to Catalina anymore. Her voice would make me feel better, but I’m afraid she might make me miss her too much. So I have to E-mail her. I’m not a great writer. I barely manage to comprehend the lessons in school. I’m not a thinker, I’m a doer. And I think I am stupid. I must be. Why else would I stay here, if I wasn’t all dumb?

    More people have been trying to reach me. I don’t understand why. Charlie called, asking for me. Even Connie called. But they’re not part of this reality, so I can’t speak to them. It only took three weeks for me to die inside, that’s all. I still light up whenever my brothers are around, but besides from that, I have nothing.

    Only darkness. This must be how Catalina feels. When she’s depressed and anxious. I never knew how severe something like this could get. At one point, I couldn’t even breathe. I can’t live without her, Catalina, the love of my life. But I can’t tell her, because she won’t understand. I can’t be myself any longer, because no one seems to accept me for who I am.

    I like having a girlfriend. And I like having somebody to love. But what’s the point, when all I ever do is wrong? How can I make her love me, when I’m this huge fucking failure? I just have to become like everyone else. Follow the flow. Be smart. Be athletic. Be normal. Behave. Be what my father wants me to be.

    Be everything but myself.