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The door was locked.
Caitlen was positive it was because she checked it an aggravating amount of times before taking all of her showers.
They were swift and the kind of shower where the water was just barely able to saturate the strands of her hair thoroughly.
A quick rinse was the best she could manage, even after dozens of attempts to use an actual shower to soak her body and relax her tense muscles - the part of her that could do something simple like that had withered away, deep within her bones.
She might as well request to have the architects remove the useless bathtub too.
Maybe it could be converted to a koi pond so it could have a purpose.
There would never be another time where she could let herself submerge in the baths that used to welcome her into their soothing waters so comfortably.
The door was locked
Her mind began to pivot, convincing her it would actually be safer to leave it open - keeping an escape route accessible.
Shower after shower would run cold before she had the chance to enter. Fully clothed, she was a statue, double checking, closing, cracking, then harshly shoving it closed again to try to give her mind a sliver of relief so she could shed her clothes and enter the pouring droplets.
The lazy drips of water nearly made her sick the first time they touched her skin after the attack…
Even if her father was home, somewhere around the sprawling estate, even if the housekeeper had just been through her wing, staying longer than usual when Caitlyn asked her to change the sheets an extra time – giving her the precious minutes with someone nearby without having to flag them down and directly ask.
That sounded mad.
Because she knew the door was locked.
No one could get in.
She even twisted the spindle and checked the knob daily, making sure the mechanism was strong and held to its duty, sometimes checking the strike plate to make sure nothing was jammed inside that would cause the door to be opened by a simple light push.
It was locked.
Strange how it made her feel trapped inside and not hidden away like she had hoped, as it was her own doing.
Was that a click?
Was someone trying to get in?
She checked again.
Vi used to always make sure she was secure. Even when she woke up before the sun rose and felt oddly safer using the restroom or shower then, Vi would be right by her side to tell her that everything was alright.
She made sure the door was secure and promised to not let anyone hurt her like that again.
“I’m so sorry Cait ,” she would whisper to her at night when they lay in bed.
Caitlyn wanted to tell her there was nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t her fault. There was no way she could have known and that guilt killed her – her sister having been the reason for Caitlyn dreaming about her mother’s last bleak moments of being trapped in the rubble of what was once arches and a symbol of prosperity for Piltover.
The whole reason Vi had left her that night was to keep her safe. If they were really too different to find a way to stay together, does that mean in Vi’s heart she aligned herself with the same monstrous impulsivity her sister had?
It was impossible for Vi to have known that her younger sister would find Caitlyn, tear her from her home with the echoes of shrill laughter and the cold metal of her weapon teasing her bare skin as she forced her out of the shower to dress.
She could still feel the clothes, sticking to her skin when her back and hair had not been able to properly dry.
Her eyes drifted, dissociating when she looked in the fogged mirror of the bathroom. She remembered making eye contact with those piercing pink eyes that lurked behind her. Remembered how she initially refused to cry or scream. She would keep herself as grounded as she could to not be intimidated by someone like Jinx again.
Jinx was petite but her grip was a sharp vice, slicing into her arm as she tore her from the shower to her closet to demand she dress herself. Her terrifying eyes looked at her in pure disgust, making Caitlyn focus on the orders instead of the irrational person giving them.
At least she was granted the dignity of clothing.
“No, the uniform.” Jinx rejected when Caitlyn tried to reach for a deep purple blouse. Her hand recoiled, moving to do as she said. When she didn’t move fast enough, Jinx began to mutter something, apparently to herself or whoever she was imagining, then yanked Caitlyn by a fistful of her hair to order her out the window.
The very same window her sister Vi had crawled through with her not too long ago.
Being home meant sitting in the chaotic splatter of tainted memories. Long after she was physically free Jinx still held her mind hostage.
The loss of her mother tandem with the searing grief that permeated her through and through. She never considered herself a spiteful person, but there was this thing growing in her now that fed on her rage. For every day that Jinx wasn’t found, Caitlyn found another way to lash out.
She might have been able to handle the intrusion, the sporadic beatings once she was confined to the chair at the decrepit tea party, and the very real threat of a gun pointed nose to nose with her if her final act of terrorism hadn’t resulted in horrific destruction topped with tearing her mother from her.
So much was left unsaid, questions Caitlyn could never get the answers to. All buried away forever, same as Cassandra.
Locked up just the same.
Was the door still locked?
Face value made it appear like she was adjusting fine, as always. Like her mother said; “ Lashing out was not the proper way to go about things .”
Staying as strong as she could was for the sake of her father and for Vi and that made it easier to stow her feelings away. Until her heart rate would spike in bursts when something loud was sounding off without warning.
One of the days she had made it successfully into the shower, an innocuous bottle of body wash slid from the shelf and hit the ground with an echoing thud.
Vi hadn’t been there for that one.
Because the door had been locked.
The exact amount of time that passed between her triggered episode and when Vi finally broke the door down was a mystery.
The once promising cadet and sharpshooting prodigy was nothing but a cracked shell left broken on the floor of her washroom where the brawler would come to pick up the sad pieces.
Frigid water soaked when it transferred from Caitlyn’s stoic body to Vi’s clothes.
Vi shouldn’t want to deal with this. She shouldn’t have to.
There were enough catastrophes in Vi’s life already that she was probably trying to keep out of sight and mind.
Now here was Miss Kiramman; losing her sanity over the events of one day when Vi had dealt with a lifetime of terrible happenings.
One day was really all it took for everything to crumble around her though.
Maybe if she were a better daughter, one who listened and didn’t go sticking her nose in affairs that weren’t her responsibility, none of these things would have had the chance of happening.
She could have just stayed outside of her parents tent during Progress Day, like an obedient officer to her superior.
Never would have seen the neon scrawls, never finding the thug left pinned by shards, and never creeping her way into Stillwater.
Never met Vi.
Was that really a trade she would accept if possible?
Maybe where she went wrong was her failure to convince Vi to stay after their disastrous meeting with the council.
The look her mother gave when she turned to follow Vi out…
The dominating size of the room reminded her of her place, the proper way of routine that she had learned and had become accustomed to.
Think before acting.
Listen before speaking.
Then there was her mother, giving a small encouraging smile in the place of words. With a permissive nod, it was all she needed to go after Vi.
Was Cassandra Kiramman disappointed that her daughter failed twice in one fell swoop?
Both the thick skulls of the council and the frustrated resignation from Vi had taken her down a peg. Vi had walked away, leaving her behind.
Shutting the door on her, on them.
It was locked.
She took off her sleepwear and breathed heavily before stepping into the sheet of droplets.
At that time, she had lost control of everything. She had been too naïve, too trusting and open.
If it was the way of the world, she would harden herself. Leaving no piece of herself exposed and ripping away the defenses of there's so she couldn’t be battered like that again.
Now that she was smarter, more keen on the necessities of justice, she knew she had to go after Jinx. Incarceration wasn’t enough in her mind, she wanted retribution. An eye for an eye. Jinx took her mothers life, so now she would do the same to her.
Couldn’t Vi stand with her on this? Be on her side of the door?
The water rushed over her skin, her fingers scratching areas quickly to get out as soon as she could.
Why did she think Vi could be the one person who understood her and didn’t think she had gone off the deep end?
Perhaps it was growing up without a sibling that made her unsure of how strong that connection could be. Yet another reason why she could never align herself to be on the same playing field as everyone else.
Too privileged to know but too sheltered to learn.
Something outside of the bathroom door clattered, she swore she heard it this time. Leaving the water running and draping a towel around herself hastily she stalked to the door, certain this time that the knot in her stomach was right and she could intercept whoever was on the other side before they came for her.
Again, like the times before, she tore the door open in a swift, hard motion – only to find herself still alone.
The door hadn’t been locked.
She was able to rush out without turning to unlatch the lock.
Caitlyn held herself, arms wrapping tightly around as she started to shake. The water dripped, soaking the floor beneath her.
How could she be so careless?
Despite herself, she was spiraling on a steeper decline after Vi left again.
Her perception had been askew, causing any protest from Vi to sound like a betrayal.
“If you won’t stand beside me, then get out of my way.”
The last words she spat at Vi before they severed.
Pretending to support her meant nothing if she would fold so easily.
In another world maybe she could have been the calm to Vi’s scorching hot temper. She could have held on to her ideals that there was good in everyone and still believe it to her core.
But whatever deranged mess that lived in Jinx’s head had no redemption. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for reform.
Would the same be said for her now?
Her legs crumpled beneath her, lungs screaming to breathe while her head pounded. Her fingers snaked through clumps of wet hair to hold the sides of her head as she began to hyperventilate and grit her teeth between pained sobs.
Phantom feelings of muscular arms wrapped around her, holding the pieces of her together like they had done so many times. The yearning sliced at her chest, making breathing even harder.
If this was the person she had to become to avenge her mother, then so be it.
She would be sure to keep everything tightly locked up.