The Fall of Katrina

Katrina looks back on her life thus far.

Katrina toyed with the silver charm bracelet dangling from her thin wrist, absentmindedly brushing her fingers across each charm, the resulting chimes soothing her. The click clack of each charm bouncing between her fingernail and each other ripped through the heavy silence filling the house. The house (if you could call it that) was something like a miniature mansion—or even a castle—and it was much too large for two people.

Katrina’s mind bubbled as she attempted to relax it with the glass of wine sitting in front of her. The bracelet had been a gift from her husband on their first wedding anniversary five years ago and it held all her treasured memories; every charm had meaning, yet it hadn’t been added to in a couple years. Katrina couldn’t be found without it and her friends thought it was quaint. Quaint. Katrina’s mind stopped on the word. She wondered what word they would use to describe her past life. Something like: dreadful, she was sure.

The charms tinkled, unable to fill the house with their sound or their presence. Katrina felt small. She’d tried to fill the house up, give each room a purpose, but most sat empty and the house still felt bare. Nothing like the apartment that spilled out possessions. She found herself missing that cramped feeling. Minimalism had been an attractive idea, until she was stuck home alone staring at what seemed like the same five objects. Boredom had followed her with its dark clouds from room to room as she spent more and more days alone.

She found herself missing a lot of past things lately, her mind ruminating on what once was. It felt as if it had been ages since her life changed forever, but it was only four years ago. It was amazing to her that she felt suffocated in such a large space. But the air felt thick as it filled her lungs. It felt like the worst humidity ever experienced. Katrina was tired; she hadn't slept much in months. She'd been to a few doctors about her insomnia, but it didn't seem like any sort of pill was going to do the trick.

She took another sip of the wine and her finger stopped as she caressed her favorite charm: the hippo.

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Greg and Kat watched the hippos roll in the mud and splash each other. Greg had his arm around Kat’s waist where it seemed to be permanently attached and their heads leaned towards each other as they watched the young hippos enjoying themselves completely unaware of their audience. This was the first of many trips to the zoo.

“I just can’t stand it! They’re so cute!” Kat cooed.

“Just like you!” Greg playfully nudged her with his shoulder.

Kat turned in his embrace, her eyes stabbing him through his clumsy lips. “Are you calling me fat?”

“What?”

“You called me a hippo!”

This was one of their fake arguments that led to very real and very passionate sex on the cement floor of the zoo’s handicapped bathroom. Katrina could still smell the earthy scent and feel the bruises that popped up on her spine afterwards.

-------

Katrina let the charm fall and it bounced, clinking against the others. She wasn’t sure of the last time they had had sex. Though, it was on that day, six years ago, on the chilly bathroom floor of a zoo that Greg had proposed to her. It was timid and he blushed—he didn’t even have a ring yet. How could she say no?

When he gifted her the bracelet on their anniversary, it had only the single hippo charm. She had loved it and couldn't wait to add more charms so that "the hippo would be less lonely." He'd laughed at that.

She took a sip from her overly large wine glass and set it on the coaster. She stared at the coaster until her vision blurred. There was a time when they didn’t even own coasters. There was a time when they made fun of people that wore designer clothes (she couldn’t even think of something she owned now that wasn’t designer). There was a time when their friends were people that made more eye contact with each other rather than with themselves in the mirror. There was a time when she wasn’t a lonely housewife having a glass of wine far too early in the afternoon.

However, Greg was brought up in a household that resembled the house they had now—the life they had now. He had been accustomed to high society. When his father squandered their money in bad investments and the crashing stock market, his family was left with next to nothing. They settled into an apartment and built themselves back into a life worth living, but he always missed it. Katrina had listened to him reminisce with a tight-lipped smile. She had grown up in a small house with sparse furnishings and she enjoyed every minute of it. Sometimes she wondered if that was the sole reason he got into law.

She took another gulp from her glass and fingered the gold star charm. It stood out from the rest of the silver charms and signified a beginning—the beginning of the end.

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When Greg landed the job at the law firm four years ago, it was seen as a blessing. He’d spent ages working through school and together they had studied and passed every exam with perfection. They could now afford all that they had talked about. They could finally have it all. She remembered watching Greg’s smile eat away at his face. She remembered the party they threw in their apartment—nothing like the parties they threw now. Everyone had passed out drunk in various positions, filling up the apartment. Katrina remembered waking up and being thankful for all that they had. She never needed more.

“Why a gold star?” she asked. She stared at the charm, turning it over in her hands. It glistened in the light, reflecting a smaller version of her wide grin.

“It’s a sign of a job well done. We got through law school and now it has all paid off. It’s like when a teacher puts a gold star on your paper.” He laughed softly. “Or maybe it’s because I couldn’t think of anything else.”

Kat laughed and attached the charm to her bracelet.

Greg talked endlessly throughout the night about all the things they would be able to afford. She nodded along with real enthusiasm. The rich life had always intrigued her and it might be better than freezing in the winter and melting in the summer because A/C and heat were considered luxuries just out of reach. While Greg prattled on about insignificant possessions (most things you’d find in a well put together man cave), Kat dreamed of owning her own washer and dryer, a dishwasher, and other things she’d taken for granted in the past and would immediately forget about in the future.

-------

Now all that Katrina wanted was to be Kat again; she’d give up the dishwasher for that. Greg thought it would be classier and more “their style” if she reverted back to her full name. She hated it, but if it made him happy, she was more than willing.

He’d also convinced her to leave her job at the local diner, considering they didn’t need her to supplement his income anymore. Sometimes she missed the way her feet would ache after a long shift. She missed having a place to go at a specific time to accomplish something of value. She missed the crew most of all; they’d fallen out of touch not long after she’d finished her two weeks.

Her fingers fumbled with the house charm—it was more of a cottage. It looked straight out of a storybook and at first, she had loved it, but it had become her least favorite, symbolizing this prison.

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Three years ago Greg walked through the door of their too small, too expensive apartment and placed a box on Kat’s lap.

“Another charm? What happened? What did you do?” Kat asked staring at the little box, hungry to open it. Charms meant good news; they were lucky. Kat’s eyes shimmered as she looked from the box to Greg and rested them back on the box. The box was small and covered in velvet, it felt softer than the other boxes she had received. The tiny box felt heavy in her lap. She couldn’t tell if the queasiness in her stomach was due to excitement or uneasiness.

“You’re going to have to open it eventually.” Greg smirked, his eyes hiding a secret waiting to be discovered.

Kat twisted her lips at him and turned her full attention to the little box. It felt small and delicate in her hands and she savored the mystery. But her curiosity got the better of her as she pulled the box open, the metallic squeak of the hinges caressing her ears. Inside lay a delicate silver cottage. “What does it mean?” she asked, pinching it between her fingers and laying it across the soft palm of her hand.

“I got us a house!” His enthusiasm broke into the biggest grin she’d ever seen cross his face.

“Greg, you didn’t!” she cried. The charm blurred in her hand. “A house,” she murmured.

“I did and we can move in tomorrow!” Greg puffed out his chest, his hands on his hips. Pride glowed from his every pore as he looked down at his wife.

Kat placed the charm on its little pillow in the box. “So soon,” she murmured. Her eyes moved from the charm to the apartment. The small, cracked TV, the torn up futon, the dead plant on the cheap kitchen counter; she knew she’d have to leave these things behind.

“I figured this apartment was too small to contain you,” he said. He plopped on to the futon and nuzzled her close.

“Are you calling me fat?” she asked with a forced giggle, pulling away just enough to look at his face.

“Don’t ruin this,” he said, pulling her back into his inescapable embrace.

She hesitated, then leaned into him. She could feel excitement begin to bubble deep in her chest. This was new, this could be a life she could want, desire. The apartment did feel cramped. It did feel immature. It might be time to grow up and more importantly it made Greg happy.

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Katrina laughed at the memory. How naïve she had been. The house was the start to her downfall as Kat and the uprising of Katrina. The house trapped her into a life she’d never imagined. At first, the dinner parties were fun, but then they became the same. All their ‘friends’ were the same. Everyone was boring. She’d never seen herself becoming boring. Katrina let the charm fall, the setting sun bouncing off the silver.

The sun glinted off the wine glass as Katrina took another sip, letting the liquid sit on her tongue, tasting it for the first time. The boxed wine was better. Katrina swallowed and swirled the red, watching the spirals. When had she figured out that everything was different? When had she figured out that Greg had become one of them? Those they had made fun of wrapped in each other’s limbs while they lay in bed. When was the last time they had laid entwined like that? Questions swirled around Katrina’s mind like the wine in the glass. The dinner party from last week in particular bobbed on the surface of her mind as she noticed the old charms made of cheap metal painted silver compared to the newer sterling silver ones.

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Katrina gently lifted a silver platter of roast beef as she smoothed out a wrinkle in the table cloth. She jumped at the small tap on her shoulder and was faced with a slightly drunk version of the typical rich housewife. Miranda’s black cocktail dress form fitted around her figure, accentuating her assets a little too well. In fact, she probably squeezed her size six frame into a size two dress just to be able to boast about it. Her hair was down, but curled into a severe bob that rested on her shoulders awkwardly as it was sprayed with far too much hair spray.

“Katrina! The girls and I have missed you around the club,” she said, pulling Katrina into an awkward hug and air kissing both her cheeks.

Katrina cringed, her smile awkward and lopsided. “Oh, you know. I’ve been busy around the house trying to get things ready for this dinner.”

“Oh my gosh, darling, this party is ah-mazing!” Miranda swayed, the wine in her glass sloshing. Her spindly fingers grasped the glass loosely and for once Katrina didn’t find herself worrying about the carpet. In fact, she hoped the glass fell..

“Thanks, Miranda. You can’t imagine the work it took.”

“Oh, I can! You should become an event planner! I could definitely use your help!” Miranda’s voice had an upward inflection after ever sentence as if everything was absolutely exciting.

“That might actually fun, give me something to do!” Katrina’s laugh was a chime in a light wind. She was serious. It sounded like something to give her something like a purpose. She'd always enjoyed planning parties from the time they were in the cramped apartment to now and she was good at it. But immediately, her hopes were dashed.

“Oh, Miranda. Katrina must manage the household along with all her other responsibilities at the club. She’s my little housewife.” Greg kissed the top of her head and gave her waist a squeeze.

Katrina’s eyes searched his face—he was serious. She placed her wine glass on a free coaster on the counter. “Excuse me, I have to check on how dinner is coming along.”

Katrina walked into the kitchen and collapsed into a stool next to the counter. The chef looked at her and she plastered on the most convincing smile she could. The chef raised an eyebrow, but turned back to the pot he was stirring on the burner. She picked up one of the crab appetizers and caught her reflection in the sterling silver platter. Her reflection was blurred, but it was more than she wanted to see. Her dark, glossy hair was tied up in loose bun, each strand falling around her face purposefully. Her make-up was on point, bringing out her light blue eyes and contouring her face perfectly. She hated it. She hated the way she looked so put together. It wasn’t her. But Greg wasn’t himself either.

As she looked at herself in the platter, she remembered a time they sat on the couch in their old apartment. They were watching some movie, she couldn’t quite remember, but a scene with a woman that looked just like she did now walked on to the screen.

“I can’t imagine you as a housewife! What a joke!” Greg’s laugh was hearty and filled Kat’s heart to the brim with joy.

“Oh, Greg Darling, you really should sit up straight. What if the neighbors could see you?” she imitated.

She tried to maintain a straight face, but soon the two were laughing uncontrollably as Greg pulled her into him. “Never do that again,” he said. His eyes were watering and his face was bright red and Kat had never been more in love with him.

Now, as Katrina, he encouraged housewife-like behavior. He encouraged her to go to the club and join some of the groups of ladies that did planning and work around the development or possibly a book club or something like that. He wouldn't let her find another job and instead suggested light volunteer work. He wanted to be able to show her off: look at my amazing wife and all the amazing things she does! Either way, Katrina still found those things unfulfilling and she felt herself drifting from the other ladies. She was later and later to meetings until she just stopped showing up altogether. She was terrified for when Greg would find out; he'd be livid that she wasn't living the life he'd set out for her.

She broke her stare with the platter and looked out towards the party. She took a deep breath, stretched her lips into a smile, and headed back into it.

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Kat placed her wine glass with a tink on to the glass coffee table—next to the coaster. She rolled into standing, letting every joint fall into place until she was looking down at the ridiculous glass. They used to drink wine straight from the box; it almost felt unnecessary to put it into glassware. It sure didn’t taste the same.

The wine glass was huge and more decorative than practical, just like everything else in the house. Kat felt the breath catch in her chest as she observed the room and everything her life had come to be. It was all ridiculous. The oversized sofa, the grandfather clock, the expensive glass coffee table, the two large ferns, the rich white carpet—almost everything in the room was white. Blank. Spotless. She was tired of having outside shoes and inside shoes and feeling nervous drinking red wine. The old carpet was stained and worn. It had memories embedded into the cheap fibers. This carpet held nothing. It all held nothing.

Even Greg had changed—or had he? He’d always craved this life, knew this life. When they moved into the house he immediately got a membership at the club and associated in all the right social circles. Katrina felt awkward and clumsy in these social interactions, but Greg was ecstatic. It was a new, happy side she’d never seen and he was filled with such enthusiasm all the time that it was impossible to want anything else than what he wanted. But now, she felt cramped; she needed air. She needed the old apartment back; she needed their trips to the zoo and that earthy scent to fill her nose.

The bracelet fell to the table with another tink—a louder one. Kat moved with the fluidity of the ocean until she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the house that was too small to contain her. She wasn’t quite sure how she got there, but the air in her chest released. She smelled the scent of the flowers in the garden (that she hadn’t even planted; they had a gardener for that). Kat looked at her clenched hand. It slowly uncurled revealing the hippo charm. She wrapped her fingers around the charm and kicked off her loafers and let the warm pavement caress her toes. She headed down the street until she was out of view of the house. Katrina was never heard from again.