Into Me You See

prologue

July 11th, 2012

Quinn's POV
Each and every day I saw the same thing. I saw Katy coming home from wherever she was - the studio, an award show, out for drinks; tears forming in her eyes as soon as she walked in the door. It was like the woman could never hold anything in. Yet it was heart breaking. She would softly close the front door, taking in a deep breath with her head pressed against the wall, her hair always put up in a pretty topknot, and tears would begin to fall from her cheeks, and they never stopped until I tried to do something about it.

She would take her shoes off, place them neatly by the door, her shaky fingers making sure everything was perfectly lined up. And I would sit with Shannon or Tamra in the sun room, watching their stupid crime shows or working on schoolwork. They always told me not to stare, reprimanding me like they were my own mother, but did I care? That was Katy in there, her eyes completely bloodshot and mascara streaming down her pale cheeks.

It was always the same routine, over, and over, and over. Nothing ever changed since that day. She never stopped crying. She didn't even bother to say hello to me when she walked through the door or say goodbye and 'i love you' when Tamra took me to school in the morning. And I wouldn't call her a bad mother for doing any of those things, she was simply broken and unable to put her pieces back together.

You would think it bothered me, but it doesn't. I've seen it so many times. She would walk up the stairs, struggling to make it up the first step, her weak and unsteady hand meeting the railing, unable to pull herself up. Sometimes she came home completely exhausted, but sometimes she would get so drunk she made me help her tuck her into bed.

I remember how Russell used to treat her. I remember how he used to treat me. It was fair; nothing was ever wrong, per say. I don't remember much, as I was only 7 or 8 years old at the time of the start of their relationship. She was just so caught up in him. They would be screaming at each other one minute while I was trying to sleep, and Katy would come and curl herself up into my bed, thinking I was already asleep. And she would just hold me and let all the the tears go, one by one falling upon my face until she fell asleep. Russell would stomp down the stairs and slam the front door shut to go sleep at his place. But the next minute they would have their tongues down each other's throats while we were sitting at breakfast. It disgusted me if I'm being honest, it would disgust any eight year old. But it just confused me how two people could be so different and still get along the way that they did.

Russell wasn't as involved in my life as you would think. He was a good stepfather while it lasted, though. But sometimes I feel like their relationship was more for me than it was for Katy. Katy wanted me to have a father. She stayed with him as long as she could, until she got that text.

I'll never forget that day. I was at Katy's home in New York with Angela while Katy was in Brazil for tour. And Angela got the call from Katy just a few hours before Katy was suppose to go on, telling her she couldn't "fucking do it anymore" and everything from then on just seems like a blur to me. I remember Angela telling me to leave the room while she stood at the kitchen counter, her head in her hands as she tried to keep quiet so I wouldn't be able to hear her. Katy wouldn't go on that stage with out me there. So of course, Angela flew me to see her.

I remember coming backstage and Katy holding onto me for dear life. She thought she couldn't do it. But I told her she could. I told her she could go on. I was the one to tell her she should make all of those people happy. I knew my mother better than anyone else. And the funny thing is, she didn't even know it. She didn't know that I could see behind those tear filled eyes and breaking voice. She simply thought I was oblivious. But I wasn't. I wasn't stupid. Growing up with a mother with an out of control career wasn't very ideal, especially when she would just hand me off to random people like Shannon or Tamra or Johnny. It helped me befriend them, but at the end of the day all I wanted was to be with her.

Sometimes it was just like "why have a mother at all", but i have to understand that she was busy and she couldn't be with me all the time, especially when she had to hide me from the media. Katy Perry couldn't have a daughter, it would shatter her career. But Katheryn Hudson does, and the world doesn't know.

Katy was there for me sometimes, she got
me involved in softball and sports and went to most of my games to cheer for me. She was supportive, she just couldn't be there when I needed her the most.

All I really wanted was for her to be there for me. I wanted her to see all of my milestones in life. Like making my first goal in soccer or my first home run, or in the future graduating high school. She was the one who was there when I said my first word and took my first steps, I guess that's all that mattered, right? But she's all caught up in her career. I feel like I don't matter to her anymore.

Katy's might be rough around her edges, she might be damaged, she's not the perfect mother, but she's my mother. I think that she's special in every way. She's goofy, she's got a heck of a sense of humor, she's caring, and she's the best mother when she wants to be.

She's yet to become a grown person, the same for me too, obviously. Maybe we could grow together.

•••

I remember when I was really young and she would drive hours back to Santa Barbara to show me what her childhood was like even if she didn't have the money. She would chase me around the beach for hours even if she was tired and would get in the water with me even if she didn't want to get wet.

She would wrap me in her sweater even if she was cold and we would watch the sunset until I fell asleep in her arms. And she would carry me back to her car and buckle me into my car seat and place a kiss on my forehead no matter how much I hated it when she kissed me.

Everyday she would send me to school with two little braids in my hair because that's the only hairstyle she knew how to do and she would write little notes in my lunch telling me how much she loved me even if I couldn't read them. She would cut my pb&j sandwiches into a shape of a heart and would wait outside for me when I got off the school bus even if it embarrassed me.

She would hold my hand and walk me down the board walk and show me all the little shops and we would share an ice cream sundae that was always too big to ever finish. And she would dip her finger in the whipped cream and wipe it on my nose even though she knew I hated it.

She would always pass grandma and grandpa's house even if she got emotional and when I asked her why she would always answer with "don't worry about it darling" and wipe her tears away like they were never there.

There were always so many things I wondered as a child. I still wonder things to this day, but I never questioned her as a person. It was always good intentions, she raised me well. I couldn't undermine that.

Our relationship is so much different now and maybe if I could just turn back the time and make things better for her or make her life easier I would've. I always feel like I'm always extra baggage that she has to carry.

I remember when she used to let me crawl in her bed when I was afraid of monsters and she would sing to me and play with my hair until I fell asleep. Or we would lie in bed and read bedtime stories and I would giggle every time she attempted an impersonation.

In the morning she would give me lucky charms because she wanted me to have what she couldn't and she would dance around in her large t-shirt and socks to The Fray to make me laugh if I wasn't having a good day.

She was the best mom. I couldn't have asked for better to be honest. We had such a close bond. We were practically attached at the hip and if we weren't together Katy would call the daycare center or school every hour to make sure I was alright.

I think in a way she wanted my childhood to be different from hers, she didn't want me to be sheltered or oblivious of what the real world was like. She wanted to raise me to be aware and she wanted me to know that it wasn't just us on this earth.

She always told me it was okay to express my myself and my feelings. It was good to have an opinion and I never realized how important that was until now.

I'm Quinn Grace Hudson, and this is my story.