Well, this is my first fanfiction so go easy on me. I fell in love with American Horror Story from the first episode and I love the character of Dr. Thredson in Asylum. So I wanted to write a story to see how he works with a OC. I know it's short, but it's just mostly a introduction to my character. Please feel free to let me know what you think.:)

When I close my eyes, I don't see darkness. That was the first clue to lead me to believe I was different. They like to call me ill, and sometimes when they think I'm not listening, sick in the head. I like to think of myself as just Cat. Maybe if I had a normal life growing up I would've been something more than a crumbled up ball of red and white under the bed of a dimly lit asylum room. Maybe I could have been a kindergarten teacher like I wanted to be. I really love kids. I uncurl my small tense body from the fetal position it was in for the past couple hours. Dr. Arden says it's not good for me to stay curled up in one spot too long or I'll grow a hunched back. I think he's the crazy one. Peering out from under the bed I can see feet walking around the room, hear voices calling my name. I like this part of the day, hide and go seek with the nuns, even though under the bed is the only place to hide in my room.

"Catherine. Catherine!"

I hated the way they said my name. Oops, I mean dislike. I dislike the way they said my name. I forgot I'm not supposed to hate anymore. Hatred leads to bad thing. I don't want any more bad things following me. But, the way they said my name was almost like the soft curdling way of an unloving aunt calling the burden of a child her deceased sister left behind for her to care for. I dislike being the burden. My long hair fell into my eyes and tickled my nose. I quickly yanked it back but managed to pull myself down in the process. I had to fight to hold back the giggle that managed to escape my lips in small burst.

"Catherine! There you are silly girl."

"It's time for treatment, Catherine." One of the sisters I recognized as Sister Mary Eunice says as she bends to peer into my dark hideout. Her bright smile and smooth golden hair captivates me and for a second I don't fight back as she attempts to grabs my thin arm to drag me out from under my sanctuary. Her fingers linger down my arm gently and leave behind a trail of almost painful Goosebumps. I throw my body as far back as I can, my head hitting hard against the wooden support of my bed. I hear Sister Mary Eunice sigh. "Bring in a guard, please." Her voice sounds tired and I can imagine her innocent eyes crinkling at the thought of what she knew they were about to do. More footsteps enter the room and the air suddenly leaves my lungs as the bed is shifted across the floor and I'm roughly pulled to my feet. A vaguely familiar guard leans his face close to mine and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Some of the guards like to kiss me, they make a game of it, and I love to play their games. The other vaguely familiar guard bends down to slip my thin slippers onto my feet and when he stands back up he fixes my hair. His hands brush through the thick red brown strands, from root to tips and I tilt my head to the side and marvel in the wondrous feeling.

"Kitty Cat loves being petted, don't you pretty Cat?" I quickly opened my wide brown eyes and stared into his small blue ones. He quickly took a step back. I ghosted my fingers against his cheek and I could feel his heart beat faster; I never failed to affect the ones who thought they controlled me. I pressed my curves against his straight form and from behind me I could hear one of the nuns gasp. I make sure to give a bright smile. "I'm not going to treatment anymore if they don't start giving me treats."

"Girl, Treatment will fix that fucked up head of yours. Make you a normal human being." Unimportant guard one says as we walk down the long hall to the "treatment" room.

"And maybe later, I can "give you a treat," unimportant guard two whispers to me as we enter the main hallway. The air is always too cold in the treatment's waiting room. I slide my toes back and forth on the tile and I squeeze my fingers on the bar under my chair until they are numb, then start to count down from a hundred. It was my ritual for when I was anxious. I can hear myself humming; the sound fills my now jumbled head and pulses through my body. The nuns gave me a pretty pink speckled pill that makes my body feel weightless and my mind feel empty but too full at the same time. Time ticks by too slowly and the girl in the mirror across from me is staring me down, I wish she would stop. Her long tangled auburn hair seemed more of a bright red against her sickly pale skin. She's clutching at the frayed ends of her raggedy blue dress and her wide brown eyes have dark circles around them. She looks like she could use a good hug. I keep staring at her, but the girl never looks away. I close my eyes and hold my head in my hands. "Please go away." I whisper softly. I want nothing more than to look up and see a new girl looking back at me, a less unhinged girl. I look up and ignore the girl wanting to look me in the eyes and instead look at the figure next to her.

Sitting next to the girl in the mirror is a girl with pretty hazel eyes and choppy short hair. I wish I had hazel eyes. Her body is small, even smaller than mine. Her name is Grace; she lives in the room next door to mine. Unlike me, she had friends here. I would see her talking to them, in the common room. One of her friends was the famous Bloody Face himself, she was so lucky. Sometimes I liked to put my ear to the wall we shared to hear some sort of sound from her end. I only ever heard silence. I want to ask her if I can be one of her friends, I wanted her to know that I could be good enough too. I twirl a strand of hair around my finger and continue to stare at her. I loved the dreamy look on her face; it means she was in a place within herself that brought her peace and inner strength. I want to be in that place with her, or maybe I want one of my own.

"Catherine, it's your turn." The head nun Sister Jude says snapping me out of my daze. At the sound of her strong voice, Grace's eyes lock with mine in the mirror. I looked away ashamed and pull myself up with the soft gracefulness I learned over time. I'm tempted to look back into the mirror, to see if Grace was watching me, or to see if the girl looked any different. But I keep walking, swishing my dress side to side as I walk on the soles of my feet.

Sister Jude closes the door behind us and leads me to a metal table with Velcro straps. I was never fond of Sister Jude with her cold eyes and I don't think I ever will be. As I lie on the table she tightens the scratchy Velcro around my wrist I can't help but to think I deserve this. I was told from the moment I awoke three years ago drowsy and broken in a hospital bed that I murdered my own child. I Left him to drown in the bathtub while I went into a drug induced coma on the floor not even five feet away from him. The strange thing was that I don't remember having a past history of drug addiction and I certainly don't remember having a son.

Monsignor Howard entered the room with a tall man with thick black glasses and hair to match. Monsignor Howard was always kind to me; his presence soothed my soul while his words made my mind race. He brushed his hand over Sister Jude's shoulder and whispered softly to her while gently pushing her out the door. My heart started to beat faster. Sister Jude was always present for my treatment, why was today any different?

The Monsignor closed the door and walked to the side of my table. He pushed my hair gently from my forehead. "Catherine, I would like you to meet Dr. Oliver Thredson. He will be in charge of your treatment for the next couple of weeks." I looked up and met 's stare. His dark brown eyes and strong brows looked strangely handsome on his pale face. He reaches down to undo my Velcro bindings and his large smooth hands grip my wrist and pull me into a sitting position. "Catherine, I would like to start having one on one therapy sessions with you five times a week. Is that okay?" Therapy was the last thing I needed but I smiled wide at his sincerity anyway and smoothly leaned my body towards him. "I'd pick a handsome doctor over shock therapy any day." Especially if said doctor was my ticket out of here.