Catalyst

XIX

"Are you sure, Lauren?" Camila restates before she lets Lauren begin, "I can tell this is a really heavy thing for you. Please, don't do anything you're not comfortable doing."

"Oh, Camila," Lauren smiles softly, a sad tone concerning Camila even further. Lauren squeezes Camila's hands tightly in her own, "You're so good. How are you so good?" The question follows her first statement quietly and almost as an afterthought, then Lauren continues, "I promise you, I am perfectly comfortable sharing this with you. I need you to know."

"Okay," Camila scoots closer to Lauren, interlocking their fingers to let Lauren know that whatever she tells her, Camila will not run away and hide.

"Okay," Lauren repeats, "I guess I should start with the day I was arrested..."

-

6 years ago...

-

2AM

Lauren started self-defense classes after her uncle threw her into the basement just over a year ago. In the time since then, her schedule had grown to be so crazy, that most evenings (sometimes way early mornings) she collapsed into bed and passed out immediately.

Every morning, she wakes before the sun has risen and heads to see her trainer. She's back to the house to grab her siblings for school, and most afternoons she tutors those who need extra help. When she's home, she's studying, doing homework, putting together her portfolio for college, and collapsing into bed once all her tasks are complete. And still, some nights, she doesn't even get to stay in her bed.

Tonight, she hopes, she does.

She's praying for the end of the year to hit so she can graduate and get out of this shitty home, in this shitty town...

Lauren had passed out an hour ago, completely exhausted. She'd been up extra late this evening (morning?) studying for an exam the next day, and all she wants is to be asleep. And to stay asleep.

She dreams of her mother's face.

The opening of her door goes unnoticed against the sound of her mother's fading laughter. The shaking of her shoulders is almost not enough to wake her against the feeling of her mother's warm embrace.

"Lauren," Her mother's voice sounds a lot deeper than she remembers, and it startles her enough to stir her from her sleep.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Lauren looks up, vision blurred from slumber, directly into the face of her uncle. She struggles against the grip on her shoulders, "Lauren, it's okay!"

Lauren doesn't hear anything he says. She's just so sick of this happening. She tries so hard to wake up more, but she can barely breathe, and God, why can't she breathe?

She's reached her breaking point. She doesn't care if Chris and Taylor hear her, she's just so done with this entire situation. She screams and kicks, and cries, and scans her surroundings as her self-defense instructor had guided her to over the past year.

"Lauren!" Her uncle yells, "It's just me! I had a bad dream, too! Wake up, it's okay—"

Her uncle's voice sounds a lot lighter than it did a minute ago, but she doesn't register anything other than the fact that his hands (admittedly less firm than she remembers) are still on her, and she wants him to let go.

"Ahhhh!" Lauren screams, her fist gripping the thing closest to her; the lamp on her bedside table. The shade falls off as she flips it around in her grip, using the butt end to slam it into the side of his head. He falls back, his hands releasing her and moving up to feel at his forehead. He calls out in pain, but Lauren doesn't care.