The Bitch You Killed

Chapter One

Song of the chapter is The Pussycat dolls' 'When I Grow Up'

CHAPTER ONE

I guess I should probably start from the beginning of my story. That way it will help you understand the kind of person I was but also let you make decisions about how you feel about me.
You'll most likely hate me, everyone else did.

I was born early on a frosty January first in a London hospital which was later closed down after it was discovered to have been built using asbestos. I guess you could say I was doomed from the start or that this was some sort of omen. Not only was the morning cold like my icy heart, but the hospital was also a death trap.

Fast-forward seventeen years to the day of my end of summer house party and you'll discover that I was found dead after being murdered in my own backyard. As if that wasn't bad enough, the piece of trash that had the audacity to blow my brains out is also still out roaming around without a care in the world.

That's where I come in.

As far as anyone knows, I am the only witness to the crime - which sucks because, well, I'm dead so I can't exactly climb out of my coffin, stroll to the police station and give them that crucial piece of information.

The fact that they haven't figured it out is actually making me feel a little bitter.

Bitter enough to torture someone.

***

A misconception nowadays is that problematic children such as me only come from a family that has problematic parents. Basically suggesting that if you have parents who are divorced, separated or are in the process of splitting up, you are going to be a bitch or a douche and your behaviour should just be excused and instead of feeling hatred for you, we should pity you. It's seen as the kid is 'acting out' as a coping mechanism.
That idea might be true for some kids, but definitely not in my case.

My parents were happily married with three kids and we were just a regular British family. That was until I turned fifteen and decided that I had to change my attitude to people and life in general.

I used to be a nice girl; actually I was the definition of 'nice'. If you had have looked up the definition of 'nice' in the dictionary a few years ago, there would have been a picture of me, wearing a cute little dress with cute little pony tails and a cute little smile on my cute little face.

'So what happened to you Khloe?'

I got sick of being treated like a doormat and being completely disregarded as a human being with feelings. I was teased mercilessly by the kind of people I would later call my best friends. I didn't have any real friends. Do you know what it's like to be alone? Do you know how worthless it feels to think that the only people who you could possibly rely on are family members? Even my older brother Chase felt that I needed to get myself sorted out. He was "sick and tired of having to step in and save my butt" when I would cry over being treated like shit. Aren't older brothers supposed to want to protect their sisters? Well evidently Chase didn't get the memo.

So I did the very thing that everyone would do if they were given the opportunity. I changed myself to fit in. I threw away all of my beliefs and exchanged them for ones that would allow me to gain some power. The opportunity came in the form of a promotion to one of the best facial reconstruction teams in the US which my dad was offered. It was a huge opportunity for him that he couldn't turn down. It's not like I was going to stop him from taking it. I was nothing in London – I had no-one in London. There was nothing to keep me there. The move to California gave me an opening to reinvent myself and start over.

Within three months of his job offer, we were moved into the new home and I was already looking for ways to change my life and prevent the bullying that occurred in London from being able to start here. The house itself was a sign that things were definitely looking up. To the petite thirteen year old Khloe Matthews, it was basically a small scale version of Jay Gatsby's mansion on East Egg. It had five bedrooms which were split among two floors; there were so many smaller rooms with not much in them that it was definitely a possibility that more bedrooms could be put in. There were two main bedrooms on the ground floor which were occupied by my parents and the other by Jack since he was the youngest. Chase and I took the bedrooms on the first floor and mine was perfect for me. It was totally cool by young teenage girl standards and had a small balcony which was pretty incredible as it fulfilled my inner little girl's dream of being Rapunzel. I remember being amazed when I walked into the luxurious room. The window was covered with luxurious purple satin drapes which matched the covers on the four poster bed. My carpet was a fluffy white which tickled your toes when you walked along it barefoot. To match the princess theme, there was a large walk in closet and dressing room along with a gleaming marble ensuite bathroom. It was far too dramatic and expensive for a thirteen year old girl but you definitely would not hear me complaining.

"I see my princess has finally got the perfect princess bedroom?" My dad teased as he strolled into my bedroom, amazement at the lushness of the room evident on his features.

"Yes daddy," I replied unable to keep the smile from gracing my features. To prove the point I took a run and dived onto the satin covers of my beautiful bed and sighed when my body sunk into the fabric.

"Do you miss London yet?" he asked staring at me inquisitively, concern clouding his soft blue eyes as he pushed his curly dirty blonde hair over the top of his head. The thing you need to know about my dad was that he had an incredible capacity for compassion. He was selfless and always put everyone else's needs before his own. As a plastic surgeon, he worked long hours to help people feel better about their bodies or to fix what had become broken. Edward Matthews was an inspiration as he had the power to give people back confidence after it had been lost. It's ironic really considering I spent an endless amount of hours tearing people's confidence to shreds in an attempt to keep dominance over my peers. My dad fixed physical scars while I left emotional ones.

I pretended to contemplate his question by closing my eyes and scrunching up my nose, "Nope. It's fabulous here," I replied with a cheeky smile.

"Fabulous? I see you're getting into the spirit of talking like those Californians on those television shows you love so much," he teased before laughing and exiting the room after mentioning something about dinner plans.

I find it curious how I can remember that exchange like it was yesterday. I was definitely a 'Daddy's Girl' as a kid, even as I grew up despite becoming a massive bitch I would consider myself Daddy's little angel.

That night, we went out for dinner and on our way back from the fancy Chinese restaurant that we discovered about twenty minutes from our home, we passed a young, dark haired boy on a bike that was leaving the house opposite ours.

At the time, I didn't know it, but we would go on to be best friends.

That was until I severed all ties with him when I started my rampage to get to the top and subsequently broke two hearts while also beginning the journey down the path which would eventually lead to my demise.

***

word count for the chapter: 1,398

A/N:

Hey so I know this is really short, but I'm only just getting started.I plan on introducing new characters into the next few chapters so that will definitely lengthen them out.Please leave comments with your feedback as it definitely helps me improve and decide on whether this is good enough to continue :-)Also voting is a lovely way to tell me you liked it as it makes me feel like I'm actually doing something right so VOTES ARE DEFINITELY ENCOURAGED.

COMMENT/VOTE/SHARE/READ

thanks,
Rachel
longtimegone 
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