The Bitch You Killed

Epilogue

Song of the chapter is Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth's See You Again

The boat began to start moving, the unusual sensation forcing me to lurch in my seat. It took a couple of moments for me to get used to the moving and I was thankful that so far I hadn't upchucked all over the balcony floor. I wasn't a big fan of boats, but then this wasn't really a boat, it was more like a moving city with so many things to do that should be impossible. Just earlier I had gone ice-skating. Ice-skating while at sea. I can't be the only one who thinks that's crazy.

But unfortunately, ice-skating on a boat was quite low down on the crazy scale compared to what I had witnessed. Even to this day I still wonder if Khloe was really there or whether it was a figment of my imagination to help me cope with the guilt and the grief. I should have done more for her, but I think I came through for her in the end, arguably when she needed me the most.

Five years had passed since I last saw her and I still haven't stopped missing her. For the first couple of months I kept waking up hoping I'd see her, hoping that I actually was having some sort of psychotic episode just so I could hear her voice. Her death was hard, but her disappearance was worse. It almost killed me. I went to a therapist, and she tried to help but I only ever found the one session helpful. The sleeping pills helped as well.

    "Don't you think your sister would want you to challenge your grief into something positive?"  she asked. I distinctly remember her pushing her thick black framed glasses up her nose using her index finger as she looked at me slumped over in my chair.

I snorted at that, mainly because I had no idea. "One minute she wanted me to forget about her and the next she wanted to be remembered. My sister was one of the biggest mind fucks to ever exist. She was a hypocritical bitch, and I use that term in the most affectionate way possible."

Of course Ms Meyers didn't seem too pleased at my comment so decided to brush over it, "did she have any charities that she gave to?" 

The chuckle was escaping me before I could stop it, "Khloe didn't give money, she spent it on clothes, make up and vodka."

Ms Meyers still looked at me with distaste like she did so often. I know that she realised that I loved my sister, but I don't think my portrayal of that love was what she wanted. I honestly believe she would rather have had me crying in every session than my sad attempt of trying to explain Khloe and what she was like.

   "Look," I started, "To put it in simple terms, my sister was a conundrum which I stopped trying to solve years ago. She was just Khloe which I both hated and loved her for. Like I said, she wanted to be remembered but not in a painful way, you know?" I stated as I sat up straighter in my seat. 

   "Why don't you write a poem or something? In her memory? That way you can get your feelings out in a beautiful and elegant way. It sounds to me that Khloe would have appreciated that," she suggested as she scribbled down another prescription for my heavy-strength sleeping pills.

I stood up, taking the prescription from her and left her office with a mumbled goodbye. The only reason the session was any use was because I bumped into Annabelle when I went to pick up my prescription. She took on board what I said and suggested I write about her, but not a poem. Write about her life and her death. 

     "I always find that problems and memories feel better on paper than in my head. I like being able to see everything laid out in front of me, not a jumbled mess in my head," Annabelle had said and in that moment I had wanted to kiss her. But I didn't, she still was on the fence about the whole using her to get the drugs thing, which was understandable.

     "Mr Hannon is calling you again," Annabelle said, interrupting my thoughts as she strode out from the bedroom out onto the balcony. 

I looked up and noticed that she was wearing that beach wrap I'd bought her on the last stop of this cruise. She looked good in it, green really made her eyes do that funny sparkly thing they did so often.

I nodded at her before I raised the small glass of scotch to my mouth and gulped it down. This was supposed to be a celebration holiday. So many things had happened in the last five years. If someone had of told me five years ago that life would continue after her death, I'd have wondered if it was at all possible. Grief can really wreck your life, but it can also help in a way. I discovered a lot about myself and the world in the last five years. I've sorted my life out.

    "Don't answer it, he knows I'm a one book man," I replied before I put the glass down and motioned for Annabelle to sit beside me. She obliged and carefully pulled herself onto the chair as gently as possible.

    "I feel like a beached whale most of the time," she muttered as she breathed a sigh as she  finally got into position. I would be the first to admit that Annabelle's bump was huge. I would also be the first to admit that this wasn't planned, but the best things in life never are. Annabelle had asked multiple times if I had wanted to name our daughter Khloe but I wasn't so keen on it. I wasn't looking to replace my sister's memories but I also didn't want my daughter to live in her shadow. I didn't think Khloe would want that either.

Thinking of Khloe always led to two thoughts. The first made my eyes fall to the wedding band on my finger. I had tried to fight what I felt for Annabelle because of her involvement and likewise with her. But losing Khloe had made me realise that if you don't show the person you love that you do in fact love them then you'll always have regrets.

I didn't want to have any more regrets so by writing the book, I tried to show Khloe how much I loved her. I wrote a story about a girl who didn't deserve to die and that's exactly what Khloe was. Jack had helped while he was finishing high school and I think it helped the both of us to heal old wounds. My parents hadn't been too keen on the idea but had eventually come around. The sad thing is that they sold the house, and then when Jack finished high school the both of them moved back to London. I guess in their minds, there were too many painful memories rather than happy ones. They tried to go back to before the problems and I like to think they're happy now.

As I looked over the balcony at the water which moved almost hypnotically, I couldn't help but feel like life was finally finding a new type of normalcy, one which I was grateful for. Things had changed so much and I couldn't help but hope that Khloe knew what was happening. People always said that you didn't stop loving someone once they were gone, but for me, my admiration for my younger sister only grew as the days went by. She wasn't perfect, but she was courageous and didn't back down in the face of adversity and I hoped that those traits would pass along to my own daughter. 

Khloe Matthews was a bitch and it took me a while to realise that it didn't make me love her any less.

- THE END -

A/n

i honestly can't believe that this is over. I'm really sad but also really happy because now i get to focus on new stuff !! As promised, the SEQUEL/SPIN OFF to TBYK IS ACTIVE RIGHT NOW ON MY PROFILE SO PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT AND LEAVE A COMMENT OR WHATEVER !!!

Its been a long two years but I finally did it. This was the first story I ever wrote and while I feel like i can do so much better as I've matured, I still will always be so proud of how far its come.

BAD BLOOD IS ON MY PROFILE THIS IS NOT A DRILL

ALSO BONUS CHAPTERS I HAVE 3 IDEAS BUT GIVE ME MORE EITHER BY COMMENT OR PM

if u wanna stay up to date with me - - follow me on twitter @rachmurray_ or instagram rachel_murray !!!

THANKS,
LONGTIMEGONE // RACHEL
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