So I went to go see the Scream 4 movie and about ten minutes in, I realized just how much I liked Kirby and how weird it was that Hayden Panettiere played her so well.
Me being me, of course I couldn't not write about her life after death.
Warnings for violence, brief angst, swearing, secondary character homosexuality (I'm looking at you Stu Maher and Billy Loomis, you pair of repressed psychos), and Kirby getting her bitch on in the afterlife.
I believe that it's Wes Craven that owns the rights to the Scream franchise, either him or Kevin Williamson- either way, it's not me.
When Kirby opened her eyes, after being knifed like four times by Charlie the little shit, the first thing she saw was the sun brightly shining into her eyes. She gasped, tried to inhale
properly- but just ended up coughing, large broken swallows of air trying to make their way into her recently shredded lungs.
“Whoa, easy there,” said a male voice, somewhere up above her and Kirby flinched away on instinct, scrambling away from the voice and coughing at the same time as her eyes fought to adjust to the bright light of day.
The last time a guy had stood that close to her, he ended up stabbing her for being picky with her men, so maybe it was excusable that Kirby didn’t really trust anyone yet.
“Sorry, sorry,” the guy held up his hands, looking contrite- Kirby thought, and wiped away the thin film of tears in her eyes brought on by the sudden coughing fit.
“I forgot,” he added, grinning sheepishly, “how messed up everyone is at first.”
“What,” Kirby narrowed her eyes at him and scooted a little further away, just in case, “the fuck
are you babbling about?”
“You know,” the guy motioned with his hand, wide and expansive as if to indicate Kirby’s midriff, “after getting killed, you’re all so twitchy
,” he shrugged, “and it’s been so long for me that I’ve forgotten how bad it can be. So, I am
, you know,” he shrugged again, “sorry.”
Kirby shook her head, squinting up at him as a roaring sound began building up in her ears, working its way up until it felt like her head was filled with a swarm of bees. “Randy Meeks?” she finally ventured, slowly drawing out his name as she took in his baggy jeans and green polo circa like ten years ago or some dumb shit like that.
“At your service,” the guy grinned, a brilliant white smile that brought out the dimples in his cheeks and spread his arms like he was about to engulf Kirby in a hug for like the initiation to the club of the Ghostface victims.
“Holy… fuck…” Kirby breathed out and this time, she started looking around her with wide, awed eyes. “Is this heaven
If this was heaven, Kirby thought gloomily flashing back to her middle school days- heaven looked pretty much like Westboro Heights City Park, complete with the recently renovated jungle gym in the midst of all the greenery and the repainted benches lining. In short, heaven was sort of bullshit
“Nah,” Randy shook his head and wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans, “this is…” He paused, as if he was trying to find the right description for the place they were in, “this is like a halfway station… Between what’s here, and what’s there,” he pointed off into a parking lot where Kirby could see a number of cars sitting under the sun. It looked like any old parking lot, with the SUV’s lumbering behemoth-like between the smaller coupes and convertibles. She even saw her own car, her beautiful silver baby sitting next to a beat up blue Chevy that tugged at something painful within her.
“It’s a parking lot
there?” Kirby ventured and watched with grim satisfaction as Randy’s face flushed a deep, brick red.
Oh yeah, she still had it- the ability to make geeks speechless, she grimaced- and apparently harbor feelings of homicidal rage for four years. Go Kirby, she cheered sarcastically, you provocateur of the world’s psychos- your parents really would have been proud.
“Shit,” she gasped at the reminder and felt something thump painfully within her chest, “what’s going to happen to my mom and dad?”
Randy looked uncomfortable, shuffling a little as he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets- “they’re ah,” he coughed, cleared his throat and looked at some point over her shoulder, not meeting her eyes “they’re dealing… As well as can be expected really, but they’re dealing…”
Crap, Kirby rubbed at the wetness on her cheeks angrily, feeling that hot rush of anger again. She was only eighteen, she had just graduated, just realized how much she loved music- realized that she wanted to work in the industry, maybe a talent manager, maybe a producer- that rush of anger swelled a bit and Kirby sucked in a breath, felt it hurt from the inside as if she was choking on air.
And now she was dead, cut down because what? She hadn’t really paid attention to an acquaintance, hadn’t realized just how far off the beaten path he’d gone?
“Hey,” she called to Randy, pissed and saddened and feeling a little guilty despite knowing logically that she
was the victim, “so, Charlie killed me because I wouldn’t put out?” she asked.
It sounded even more ridiculous once she said it. Once the words had left her mouth and hung there, between them, the guy that got killed during the second round of this insanity- and her, betrayed by a kid that she remembered from freaking middle
“No Kirby,” Randy shook his head and slid forward, took her hand in his slightly clammy one all the while looking terribly earnest, “it wasn’t because of something you
did. Or something that you didn’t do…” For a geek that had died like fifteen years ago, Randy Meeks looked very serious in that moment- “just, you’ve got to let it go- you know?” He grimaced and ran a hand through his spiky hair, apparently having realized just how stupid it sounded.
Let it go
Charlie had stabbed her, had lied to her and murdered her, had murdered Olivia and so many others- and she was supposed to let it go
“Are you high
?” she yelled and smacked Randy Meeks on his fat, stupid forehead making him yelp and jump away from her in surprise. “Let it go? Let it go?” she continued to smack him, awkwardly she’d later admit to herself, but now she was just lost in the freeing feeling of unloading some pent up rage. “He killed
me! You moron!”
“Okay!” Randy yelped again and ducked one well placed slap. It ended up only smacking him peripherally and he still shrieked like a little girl. “Stop! Stop!” he twisted around, feinted right and when Kirby made to follow him, he threw his arms forward and wrapped them around her, trapping her in a strange version of a bear hug, tugging her close against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear and thankfully for the great big idiot, he actually did sound sorry about it, “I’m so sorry…”
And Kirby, for the very first time since opening her eyes after getting murdered by one of her oldest friends, she inhaled to scream some more but what came out instead was a sob. A single broken sob coupled with a groan so deep that it felt like it shook something loose within her bones, shook something loose within her chest and it broke into a million tiny pieces, all of them sharp enough to cut holes in her, deeper than what Charlie did, more terrible and permanent.
Kirby sucked in another breath, tried to keep the lid down on her emotions but it was like a dam had broken inside and it hit her like a tsunami wave. She was eighteen years old and she had just been murdered, she hadn’t told her mom how much she loved her since she was fifteen and she hadn’t had a good long talk with her dad since even longer. She was never going to go to college, get a job, meet the love of her life and move to New York. Nothing cool would ever happen to her again and she sucked in another heaving breath-
The full horror of the last couple of days crashed down on her with a heavy weight and Kirby sagged and when the sobs couldn’t be restrained anymore- Kirby screamed out into the world, a deep, primal hollow fury tinged scream for the life that she had been forced to leave behind.
Randy didn't let her go.