Chapter 1: Bells Of A Nightmare
“You weak, pathetic waste of space.” Brooke’s jibe cut across Katherine’s skin like scissors on paper.
“I don’t know what our father ever saw in you.” Brooke’s voluminous lips curved into a smile as threatening as a vampire’s.
“I don’t want any trouble, Brooke.” Katherine tried to keep her voice as calm as possible. “Please just leave me in peace.”
“Leave me in peace.” Brooke snaked her features in a grotesque impression of Katherine’s vulnerability. “I’m Katherine Stratton, and I was born a pussy.”
Katherine backed away, ever so slightly.
Her feet stood right on the edge of the sweeping marble staircase connecting the upper balustrade to the sprawling courtyard.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Katherine’s question, despite her apparent desire to be firm and collected, reflected her inner turmoil. Her lips were trembling.
“Is that even a question?” Brooke sneered. “You were born a little slut, Kathy.”
A purr coated the malice in her words.
“You used those big eyes to manipulate grandfather and Austin.”
‘Why did Brooke only ever refer to their father by his first name?’ There was so much hate there, so much angst.
“I wondered what they saw in you. But what man can resist those weak, vulnerable lips and that constant tirade of ‘pity me, I’m alone and need protection?’”
“Brooke.” Trying to reason with her sister, Katherine moved one step down, her back to the stairs.
“You know I never tried to attract any attention. They loved me as much as anyone else in the family.”
She couldn’t turn; she knew she couldn’t face away from her evil, deviant monster of a sister.
“That’s a lie!” Brooke roared, lifting her hand.
In that half-second, Katherine closed her eyes.
She could almost visualize her heavy palm striking her bare cheek, pulling forth the rush of blood that would burst from the oncoming wound.
A sob escaped her.
“Oh, poor little girl.” Brooke laughed. “Are you going to cry? You’re a disgrace to our family and our name. It disgusts me that we had to share a womb.”
“Please, I don’t want to do this.” Katherine’s tears fell freely now, the horrors of her existence heavy on her skin.
“I’m so tired of going on like this. I’ll do anything. Just stop tormenting me!” Her last words came out as a pained howl.
“You poor little thing,” Brooke crooned, suddenly soft, the turn of her words, almost merciful, confusing Katherine.
“You must have had such a difficult time growing up.” Brooke smiled, tutting.
Katherine grew paranoid at the sudden change in her sister. Her switching of tempos only ever meant worse punishment.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, her mouth trembling.
“I mean, you’ve always been a shitshow compared to me. You wish you could look as alluring as me.” Brooke’s hips tilted as she moved closer to Katherine’s face.
“You wish you had my brains, my curves, how I awaken a fire of desire in every man I meet.”
Her eyes flashed.
For a brief second, Katherine thought she looked more like someone deranged, not a Madonna. She almost wanted to laugh—almost.
“But do you know what I wish for?” Brooke leaned in close.
Katherine gulped, her skin crawling with fear. “What?”
“That you’d never existed. You shouldn’t be here in this world, much less our home. It’s got no room for someone as pathetic and weak as you.”
The soft words were like hot iron, burning Katherine’s flesh, scarring her heart. The words cut more profound than anything else Brooke had ever said.
Brooke’s eyes took on a crazy gleam again, looking to the stairs behind Katherine.
“Would you do me a favor, Kathy?”
A blue ray of hope rose in Katherine. For something. Anything. Maybe, after all these years, Brooke finally needed her.
“I’ll do whatever you need me to,” she whispered.
“Would you ask Austin why he always preferred a weakling like you? I mean, you are about to meet him in a few seconds, so—”
“Ask Austin?” Katherine echoed the insidious words. Realization hit her like whiplash. “Brooke, no—”
Brooke lunged forward, her sinewy fingers clamping around a section of Katherine’s thin underarm.
She pinched, hard.
“Oh, stop!” Katherine moaned. She couldn’t scream for fear of their mother joining in bedeviling her.
Brooke’s nails dug deep until Katherine could feel the warm rush of blood escaping the paper-thin parchment of her epidermis.
She struggled against her sister’s vice-like grip, but it was no good. Brooke was too strong, sheer power against her own frailty.
“Let me go, please,” she groaned.
“Are you sure about that?” Brooke laughed.
“I’ll do anything,” Katherine whimpered.
“Well, let’s give you what you want, then!”
Katherine felt a resounding slap across her cheek, so harsh that it knocked the wind out of her.
Then came the push. Or was it a shove? Katherine couldn’t tell. She was in free fall.
She stumbled, and her life flashed before her eyes as she gravity grabbed her.
So many stairs. Katherine could only feel her bones shattering into tiny fragments, inch by inch, second by second.
‘This is what death feels like, then,’ she thought as she landed at the base of the seventy-step staircase.
‘Why, it’s calmer than I thought it would be.’
She closed her eyes as she sunk into an abyss of nothing.
**
A series of hacking coughs propelled Katherine back to reality.
“Oh,” she whispered, the realization that it was all a nightmare rushing through her like sweet, spent relief.
Then came the whimpering. Her whole body heaved as she broke into a messy pile of sobs.
“I wish it were true,” she mumbled, miserable, between sobs. “I wish I were dead.”
She turned her eyes to a portrait of her father by the dressing table. His compassionate smile reminded her of summers away from this hellhole with him.
“No matter what, my Kathy,” he had mused as she puckered her face over a clandestine sour ice pop. “Never bear any doubts about how strong you are.”
“Brooke tells me I’m a useless puppy. But I always thought puppies were pretty cute.” Katherine had giggled.
He had laughed, hugging her close. “One day, you will be more powerful than you’d ever imagine possible.”
“Why, Dad?” Katherine cried, holding her head between her hands as he had once done. “Why make such false promises now that you aren’t even here?”
She sighed. “My life is a nightmare. Whether I’m asleep or awake.”
The stale stench of fright, its translation to beads of sweat covering her skin and sticking to the thin film of her nightgown, made her gag.
“I wish I could just leave.” Her breathing was panicked, each movement, each thought an exertion on her already overwrought nerves.
The clock at her bedstand table chimed. Suspiciously, it was a little after five in the morning.
“Just when you died, all those years back, Dad.” She leaned back, her heart heavy. “Nothing has changed. Even the nightmares are right on schedule.”
As she stretched, a groan escaped her mouth. Her body was annoyed—and she couldn’t blame it.
Her foot was spasming, sending shockwaves of pain through her.
‘I’m sorry, but I have to do my best to get by here.’ She leaned forward to massage the tense muscles.
They were almost as stiff as the day she’d started physiotherapy after her dear sister had pushed her down the stairs.
She wished she could make it all stop sometimes. The pain. The hurt.
She wouldn’t be in so much pain if she could just use that darned foot. But she couldn’t. At least, that’s what everyone else had to believe.
The family had been adamant that it was an accident, that she’d fallen running down the stairs.
Only her mother and Brooke knew that the truth lay in a covert push. A sinister move to get her out of the way.
It just fell into place. Useless daughter gone limp and mute.
And it made sense. The world had always viewed her as silly, gawking Katherine. Her limbs were too thin; her arms dangled like bones on a skeleton.
Funny how Mother managed to convince the doctors it was an accident, though.
Katherine smiled wanly.
They’d conveniently ignored the bruising on her face and arms—telling signs of abuse. That’s what money does, she guessed.
She’d tried to speak up a few times. Before Brooke paid her a visit and told her that if she ever dared to open her mouth, she’d end up completely disabled.
That was the thing about Brooke. There’s no limits to what she could do. Katherine’s head became a warm mush.
Katherine exhaled completely, pushing the breath as far from her as possible.
She imagined herself filling that breath with all her fears and negative thoughts.
Just as she’d learned all those years ago from her best friend. “Take a breath, and imagine it’s lifting those toxic thoughts from inside your body, Kathy.”
Tara used to hold her shoulders as Katherine would sag in her arms, fresh bouts of routine family abuse exposed as cuts all over her body.
‘I wish you were with me, Tara. I wish I’d never had to leave.’
Tara had been a solid source of support to her. Until her family destroyed every semblance of her old life, taking her best friend away from her in the process.
She wanted to get out of this bed and run away. Once, she’d been brave, but now? The thought of it scared her too much.
Argh. She frowned at the slow pain twisting her right foot.
It was stiff and sore all the time—almost as if her disability was real, not something she’d made up to survive.
She started rolling the foot. ‘I need to get back to those darned exercises.’
She tried stretching, but the fresh scars across her midriff, arms, and upper thighs screamed in protest. Her body was a playing ground for Brooke’s whims.
They enjoyed it, though. That’s why they refused to send her away. She was a plaything for them.
Katherine reached for the water on her bedside table. Her hands were still shaking.
The door exploded open. Startled, Katherine dropped the glass.
It fell to the floor and shattered into a hundred fragmented pieces, each one reflecting her frightened eyes on its surface.
“My darling, ugly, disabled sister.” Brooke’s joyously sing-song voice broke the somber atmosphere in the room in a sinister way.
Brooke stormed forward, restraining Katherine’s arms.
“You silly girl.”
“Are you a baby? Do we need to get you plastic cups instead of glasses? Poor, wretched Kathy with her hobble and hunch! Ha!”
Katherine bit her lip. She refused to meet Brooke’s eyes. Was a fresh bout of assault coming?
“Go on.” Brooke sneered. “Tell me to go away.”
Katherine remained frozen, waiting for the impact. Any moment now.
But Brooke just stood there, looking at her like she was some freak experiment.
“So pitiful.” She smiled, almost as if she was gratified by how helpless Katherine was. “It’s like I could stab you, but you’d just take it lying down.”
Katherine turned her head toward the door, confused by the sound of rustling footsteps.
An older woman and a young girl filed into the room and closed the door behind them.
What were Brooke’s maids doing here?
Brooke looked lovingly as the glass fragments scattered across the room. “I could kill you with one of these. It would be so easy,” she breathed, her eyes dreamy.
She grinned.
“Well, they say a slow death is always more entertaining.” She yanked at Katherine. “C’mon. Out of bed. Time to get up. Watch out for the glass.”
She pulled at Katherine’s shoulder again, but frightened out of her mind, Katherine remained tense.
“Do you want me to cut you with these shards?” Brooke’s voice was wicked once again.
Katherine clung to the sheets, her eyes wide and frightened.
But she couldn’t give herself away. Not when passing as mute with a limp had kept her alive. It was all she had going for her.
With all the effort she could muster, she let go of the sheets.
“Finally. We’ve all been waiting for you.” Brooke beamed, pulling her out of bed.
Katherine tried and failed to bring her leg up in time. Her hands fell on the shards, their pointed ends piercing her palms. She slumped to the floor.
’Don’t scream.” She repeated the words inside her head. ‘Don’t you dare scream.’
“Be careful with her,” Brooke snarled at the expressionless maids. “You can toss her around for all I care, but no bruises on the face.”
Coarse hands pushed her toward the door.
They left the ground-floor bedroom and moved toward the stairs. The ones Katherine hadn’t climbed since that fateful night three years ago.
“Up we go.” Brooke’s glee at her sister’s suffering was evident.
Katherine almost cried, then, wanting to break her silence, to try and get help.
Anguish raced through her veins. Was Brooke going to finish her off? Was she going to throw her down the stairs again?
“Come on.” Brooke dragged her up, every stair like hot lava below her feet.
But when they reached the top, they proceeded to Brooke’s room.
The unfulfilled anticipation of her life ending made Katherine tremble.
“Now, walk on your own.” Brooke let Katherine go, pushing her hard. “Let’s see how you’ll look walking down the aisle.”
The fear and shock on Katherine’s face drew a fresh bout of giggles from her sister.
“Didn’t you know, my sweet, boneheaded sister? Oh, the irony of it all. It’s the best day of your life, Kathy. Come on, now.”
What Brooke said next landed on Katherine’s soul like burning coal blocks.
“The apple of Austin’s eye—poor, disabled Katherine Stratton is getting married today. Blessed be!”
