The Bitch You Killed

Bonus Chapter 2

Song of the chapter is Elton John's Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

Some people have requested a chapter from Mackenzie's pov so that you can better understand her actions - hope this isn't too disappointing and that you enjoy  it. This is less than 900 words because it's been so long and I definitely do not want to make Mack a suddenly likable character. She was never supposed to be likable and neither was Khloe for that matter.

There's this thing in my head. It's kind of like a voice but I know it's not really there. It has these really awful thoughts but I don't neccessarily agree with it. I mean, I can see where it comes from sometimes.

It used to be pretty benign. It didn't really say much, only if it felt aggrieved by what was happening to me. But then it started to get angrier and angrier and suddenly I didn't recognise my own thoughts from this other things. It was kind of like a parasite, I constantly felt like my own actions weren't my own. I was just the body unfortunate enough to get stuck with this pure black and rotting soul.

I wasn't sure why, but this thing inside of me really didn't like Khloe. It started to blame her for everything that went wrong. I got a C in that maths test? Khloe's fault. The starving children in the world? Khloe's fault. The fact that Tyler didn't love me? Khloe's fault.

It was like I constantly had two different personalities. Sometimes it felt like more depending on who I was talking to. Like with Chase, I had to be stupid drunk girl who accidentally falls into his bed. With Tyler, I had to be the girl who felt sorry for him and was angered by Khloe's actions. I pretended to understand his depression when in reality I could barely spell the word. I had my own problems to deal with.

I think the voice made me more selfish and I'm not sure if that's because it was acting in my place or because the other voice - my voice - was worried about what would happen. Everything just started to be about me but sometimes it wasn't about me - it was about this other voice. It was like Mackenzie wasn't really real anymore. It was like I was a guest in my own body.

The doctors keep telling me I have a personality disorder that was most likely brought on by the stress of my crumbling family life. I show signs of being paranoid and histrionic, both of which are not ideal in an eighteen year old girl. They are giving me medication to make the voice go away but I've yet to see any improvement. 

I'm constantly guarded and the voice doesn't like the security. It keeps telling me to get rid of them and I keep telling it that I don't know how. It tells me that I do. I know what I have to do apparently. 

My therapist keeps asking to speak to the other voice and I keep telling her that it is speaking to it because I don't really get a say any more. She tells me that the voice is in my head and I agree with her but then she tells me that it's really Mackenzie who is doing the speaking and I can't agree any more because it's not. None of this was my idea, it was it's idea.

It got into a fight with another prisoner and that's why I'm in isolation. I'm constantly suffering for what it's actions. I tried to stop my hand from grabbing the fork and sticking it in his arm but the voice kept telling me to do it. Telling me that I had to do it or no one would believe me. 

So I let it happen and now I'm stuck in this room with what appears to be mattresses on the walls and only one solitary window. I want to go outside like I used to do everyday but they won't let me leave this room. I think they've upped my medication because I can't see Khloe any more. 

I told my therapist about her visit and she politely told me, yet again, that it was all in my head and the medication would help. I tried to tell her that she was here, and that she wasn't really dead any more and she just frowned. Her top knot was as tight as the skin on her face. It was like she'd had a cheap face lift and they'd pulled too hard. 

    "Mackenzie, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Khloe is still dead and she will remain dead. Until you can come to terms with your actions, you'll not heal and progress."

And then that's when I shouted at her. She pressed some button even though I kept saying I wasn't going to hit her. I kept shouting at her as they dragged me out that this wasn't me. I was a prisoner in my own body when this was happening and now I was a prisoner here. I didn't kill her, I didn't make the plan. I'm not criminally insane, I'm just sick. I'm not allowed visitors and the media is portraying me as some sort of puppy killer because of the Tyler thing but it wasn't even me. It was the stupid voice in my head. 

I don't think my therapist trusts me when I say I hear a voice. I think she believes I'm trying to manipulate her. Nobody listens to me any more so I've stopped talking. Words are useless. No one will ever believe me until they actually hear the voice. When it comes through my mouth they say it's me. But I know different. I didn't kill Khloe, it did.