Pretty Girl

Chapter Five - April 6th 2011

Chapter Five

Katrina's Pov - 17 Years Old

Was it normal to be happy when someone died? Undeniable joy, complete peace and solitude.

The relief that I felt should be banned. The emotions I was going through should be deemed illegal because let's face it. Which sane person felt like throwing a party in honour of someone's death? Me. I was so excited for the the first time in my life.

I was happy that the old fûcker died. I had been waiting for this day ever since I came to this house. Ever since I walked in here and saw his greasy face.

There was no doubt that if he hadn't died now, he would've fûcked up. He would've done something disgusting. The fake way he behaved was painful. It was ugly. He was so ugly. Ew.

Like as though he would've taken everything he wanted even if it wasn't with permission from a willing person. A sick, vile thief that would've gotten his dose of the drug that he had been craving for.

I knew I would've killed him. It was coming anyways so it was good that he left first. Before I could've done it for him.

I knew that the moment his hands would've touched me I probably would've chopped his arms off with a delightful smile because that was exactly what people like him deserved.

He was slow, old and fat. Like an ugly pig that knew only how to eat, fûck and sleep. That was him.

He really got lucky because I was assuring everyone on this planet that if he had ended up doing what he really wanted to do to me, he wouldn't have been getting such a grand, dramatic funeral like this.

I had a feeling that if Amanda knew about this, she would've actually sent him away. Not because she cared about me but because of how bad it would seem to other people if the news ever got out. If the truth of what could've happened behind closed doors had ever happened, a place where you're supposed to feel safe and loved, it would've changed a lot.

But the old bastard died before he could try. The only thing I could hope for was that he never went through with it and hurt some other poor, unsuspecting soul who wouldn't have had the courage to end his measly life the way I would've done if he had ever touched me.

Any reason for his death worked for me.

Amanda was someone I truly respected. Not because of some made up fantasy where I thought of her as my mother or a parental figure but because she didn't care and she didn't exactly sugarcoat it. It was pleasantly real and I liked that. Be a fúcking àsshole but don't try to act like an angel over it.
She was someone who wanted me to succeed and atleast she tried in that way because she knew that everything that I did was directly linked to her now.

I didn't like her but I wanted her acceptance. They were two very different things and I was eager to get it.

Our interests were aligned. Ballet.

She strived for success and money. Her reputation was everything to her. That's why she'd never bothered with the old guy at all. They never even saw each other for years because the old geezer was always at some fancy resort throwing away money on god knows what.

Wait. I take that back. We all knew what he was spending his money on.

His funeral was today and I was going to a party right afterwards just to enjoy and let loose on a wonderful occasion as such.