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please review me, the good the bad and the ugly, i appreciate it

Note: This story kind of goes with two others that i submitted "tape worm" and "rot". these stories are just the thoughts of some of the characters concerning the aftermath of what took place. I'm hoping that this story will rectify me with Kathryn/Sebastian fans, haha, i myself am a fan of that coupling and "rot" probably offended a few people, the story was meant to show sebastians unwillingness to acknowledge the true depth of his feelings for kathryn but it may not have came across as that. This story doesn't quite paint annette in a positive or negative light but it promotes Kathryn/sebastian which i'm sure will put some people at ease haha. I am thinking about writing another story to go along with these from ceciles point of view but i'm not quite sure, if you have ideas please help me out haha, reviews would be wonderful, i'm babbling now, thank you!

Your death has given me plenty of time to think things over, to sort through the wreckage of which there is plenty. I had thought once, like the foolish girl I am, that you had chosen me over her, that I beckoned you to me with my wily charms but the rose colored glasses are long gone sebastian. The brutal truth has made itself known and now i'm left feeling like a loser, thats what I am aren't I? Only a loser would ever believe the lies you fed me, don't misconstru, i'm not angry, not at you anyway. I honestly believe that you think you loved me and maybe you did, in your own detatched way. After all you did die for me, you did sacrafice yourself, but the rational part of me knows that you had alterior motives. I can't quite put my finger on it but I know, maybe you wanted to rectify your sins, or maybe you thought you'd have a cracked rib and a limp.

When you came to me that day...to tell me it was over, that's when I knew. When you told me all about "her", the one you loved, I felt like doing things I had never thought of before. Taring throats apart with my bare hands, gouging out eyes and using words I would never dream of using. You hurt me, you hurt me everywhere, my heart, my head and between my legs, you left and the only thing you gave me was a dull ache. I didn't sleep, everytime I closed my eyes I saw you and "her" dancing in my eyelids, mocking me, calling me a fool, how right you were. My suspicians were answered when you gave me your journal to publish for the whole world, it was then that I knew. And after you died I carried out your wishes because I loved you and respected your wants...and because I felt the overwhelming need to hurt her. The girl you obsessed over, your soul less mate, your cruel counterpart. I never fancied myself the jealous type but how could I resist the tempation? That journal answered my questions and spit in my face. You loved her with this intensity I thought only tortured poets had, you had a disgusting, filthy, sacreligious relationship, and I can't possibly begin to tell you how badly I wanted that.

Your attempts were beautiful and your sincerity was heartbreaking but i'm not blind sebastian. Your so skilled at lying you even convinced yourself, I never believed you but god how I appreciated the sentament. I know that you did feel a type of love towards me, that i'm not doubting, what I doubt is the depth. You loved me because I was different, because I was wholesome and I made you happy. That's all swell, storybook romance, but don't try to tell me that you chose it, it's how life works sebastian, the night and shining armor has to end up with the damsel in destress, you didn't choose me, the norms of society did because the night and shining armor can't live happily ever after with the whore even if he wants to, stories don't work like that.

She had what you would never stop wanting, she held all the secrets that I was dying to know. And I can just imagine what your thinking right now, trying to argue your way out of this, the only reason you won't admit it is because that would make you weak, you would lose the game. You chose me as a final fuck you to her, to show her that you didn't need her, you played your last hand masterfully. Kathryn won and she doesn't even know it, well, that's better then nothing I suppose. It makes me happy to know that shes all cracked and broken because you "chose" me, she doesn't need to know the truth, I have to live with it everyday, her knowing might be the death of me and i'm already as close to death as you can get while still living. Everything I touch seems fake like plastic, i'm starting to think that i've lost that particular sense. My fingers are numb, like i've been playing in snow without mittens, the only thing they can do properly is turn the pages in your confessional. My eyes dart over words that i've memorized, I know ever word, every line, every picture, the smell, i've burned it in my brain so I don't forget, I musn't ever forget.

Silly annette, thinking that I would ever be enough to surpress your hunger, thinking that I could ever hold a candle to her. well I have certainly learned my lesson, never assume. I can smell you still, i've showered a thousand times since you died but i still smell you, your never gonne leave me are you? i'll never be able to wash the rejection off my skin, I can't cut it off either, i've tried. I wish you were here right now sebastian, if you were i'd say "i love you i love you i love you i love you" until my mouth dried and my tongue cracked in two, I would show you how much I love you. I would beat you bloody and kiss your lips off, i'd suffocate you, you only hurt the ones you love right? That's how I can tell you loved her, all you did was hurt her.

Sometimes when i'm alone, when there is no one chattering into my ear, I just repeat her name over and over again "Kathryn, kathryn, kathryn" I try to step into her skin, try to become her, just for a few moments, just enough time to know what it feels like to be loved raw by you. But like I said, nobody knows, they are none the wiser, i'm the only one that knows the truth, knows that you died loving the harlot not the heroine. Everybody thinks that it's such a tale, my boyfriend sacraficing himself for me. If only they knew you did it out of anger, love and disdain for your sister. It makes me smile when i'm sad, this secret of mine, you died loving her and she'll never know, nobody will ever know. Last I heard she was teetering on the brink, alone and hated by all, knowing that fills me with warmth. No, they'll never know sebastian and eventually she'll self destruct, it's not much, but it gets me through the night.