Disclaimer: I don't own Thir13en Ghosts or anything associated with the film. None of these characters are mine.
Author's Note: I got the feeling that The Angry Princess had some animosity towards Kathy during the bathroom scene so that's where this story comes from. Also, from what I know about The Angry Princess, she's very insecure and very angry so that's what I'm going on here. Just a one-shot, but reviews are appreciated.
Dedicated to OpheliaHyde. She pushed and pushed and pushed at me until I got something finished and it just so happened that this was what got finished. Without you I'd still be bitching about not being able to write. Thanks and I love you, girl.
Beautiful in Death
Without a speck of makeup on, Kathy was stunning. She had a natural beauty I could never see in myself despite what my family and friends told me. I remember how I envied her as I compared myself to her in that bathroom mirror. She was more confident than I ever was, and she glowed because of it. Her perfection made me sick. It made me hate myself more than I did before.
I hated her.
I hated that she was blessed with such beauty. I hated that I wasn't. I hated how she was so flawless, while all I saw in my reflection were flaws. I hated how she could be so happy with herself. I hated the evenness of her complexion and the length of her perfect eyelashes. I hated that I couldn't be like her.
Since the night I first saw Kathy, I kept thinking about how much I resented her. Not just for her looks, but for the fact that she had people who cared about her. If her father hadn't banged on the bathroom door I would've killed her that night. He knew something was wrong; he was trying to protect her and the rest of his family. I had a family that cared about me once, too. They tried to save me, but I didn't listen. I was blinded by vanity. Kathy listened, that's why she was still alive and I wasn't.
I'm free from the glass house now, but I still feel trapped. For awhile all of us whom were trapped in the house stayed close to each other, not sure of what else to do. We banded together, and for the first time in a while I had a family again. The Jackal was the first to leave—the beginning of the crumbling of my newfound family. It wasn't long before we all went our separate ways. I soon felt alone and abandoned again. I never thought I would miss the others, but I did after awhile.
That's when I first remembered Kathy and wondered what became of her. I knew she survived the explosion. The Withered Lover, her mother, stayed behind to say her farewells to her family and that's when I saw that they were still alive.
It took me almost a month, but I found Kathy Kriticos and her family again. They weren't living in the apartment I went to first, but in an average sized house. I came into the house unnoticed. They seemed happy, as if the events of their night in the glass house hadn't affected them at all. It was late, and the father and nanny were rushing the young boy, Bobby, to bed. A light went off in one of the rooms along the hallway, and then, finally, Kathy emerged into the darkened hallway. I followed her down the narrow corridor into another room, her bedroom.
She walked towards a full-length mirror and stood in front of it. I stood behind her again, comparing. My makeup permanently smeared against my grotesquely colored skin was a nightmarish contrast to her youthful allure. She spent almost as much time admiring herself as I did with tearing myself apart, pointing out my every flaw. Kathy, however, didn't demean herself. Oh, I hated her self-confidence! It was the people like her that made me feel worse about myself. I could never be as perfect or as pretty as they were no matter how hard I worked for it. The people close to me tried to convince me that I was wrong. That I was beautiful, but they were wrong. I was never as attractive as Kathy, and now I never will be. I mutilated myself in a moment of despair, and now I'll always be scarred and bloody.
Rage washed over me as I watched Kathy run a brush through her shiny, brown locks. I tried to run my hand through my own hair, but my fingers became tangled in the matted, wet mess. All of my hatred towards her rushed forward and I once again had the urge to kill her. My hand tightened around the kitchen knife in my hand. She smiled at herself and I saw the flash of straight, pristine, white teeth. It wasn't fair for one woman to be so perfect. Her skin, her hair, her teeth—they were all perfect. I hated her for it.
Slowly, I started to raise the knife. I stood poised to drive the blade into her back, but I was still unsure. Would killing her finally put me at ease? Or would it only make things worse? I was dimly aware that she didn't know I was there, and it was becoming more aggravating by the moment. I was ignored in death as I was in life. I wondered briefly if she knew me by either name—The Angry Princess or Dana Newman. The latter was highly unlikely since the name Dana Newman was nothing but a memory, but did she ever hear my name mentioned in the glass house as The Angry Princess? I had a suspicion she didn't and more anger swept over me.
I hated her.
I hated being unnoticed. My grip on my knife tightened, and Kathy turned around. She was stumbling backward with her mouth gaping open before I realized what I'd done. Red liquid dripped from the blade of my knife, but it wasn't mine. It was from the open gash on Kathy Kriticos' chest. The shock made her unable to scream, and in my rage I slashed at her again. More blood oozed from the cut in her shoulder. I stabbed her chest twice more before she managed to scream in pain and terror. Her knees buckled, her blood covered hands turning the white carpet red as she tried to brace herself.
The bedroom door came open behind me. I watched as the father and nanny rushed into the room. Her father fell to his knees at her side, trying to comfort his shrieking daughter. He yelled for Maggie to call the paramedics. Kathy was coughing blood onto his face, and Maggie stood fumbling with the telephone. Everyone was crying and shaking. Bobby tried to see what was happening, but Maggie forced him back into the hall.
The sound of choking brought my attention back to Kathy, who was dying in her father's arms. Blood was running from the corners of her mouth as her father desperately tried to keep her breathing. He was sobbing, but still he tried to keep her calm. The sound of ambulance's sirens rang through the air, but I was watching the beautiful young woman I just stabbed fight for her life. I wasn't worried about the paramedics or anything else. They wouldn't know I was here anyway.
Kathy gagged and coughed, her body convulsing, and it stopped. There was no motion, no noise. Everything became surreal in that moment. The father wailed out in horror or sorrow, or maybe both. The paramedics came into the room, but they were too late. I knew it, but they tried to revive the dead beauty anyway. It was all to no avail.
One of the paramedics shook his head, and the father cried out again.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, but no one heard.