Tate POV:
I sat in the empty room, looking at my surroundings. Soon enough, another family would be here, expecting to have some sort of happily ever after, and little would they realize that they'd just checked into hell. I heard the chains above me rustle, signifying that Beau knew it too. I'd always pitied my brother. He'd never seen the world, and he'd already hated the house. He didn't know the wonders of the world. I walked downstairs at the sound of voices. At the foot of the stairs, I saw Nora Montgomery and Moira, who didn't look to be too pleased.
"I'm tired of seeing pain, Moira. Failure is unacceptable. See to it that your pants are sealed tight," Nora said. Ooh burn. Moira didn't look too pleased by Nora's comment, but she said nothing. I followed Nora into the basement. "Okay, everyone! Stay hidden, the new family is to arrive in 15 minutes!" Nora announced. Here we go..
Violet POV:
We pulled up to this glorious looking house. It was rather old looking, but it had a certain charm that most houses don't possess these days. "See, Viv? This house is amazing. Our family is going to see happier days here, I can just see it," my dad, Ben, said to my mom. Bullshit. I knew a little distance from his student wasn't going to do him a damn thing. My mom walked in on my dad and some slut fucking in their bed after she'd had a brutal miscarriage. Husband of the year, right? Leaving me to console my heart-broken mother while he went to some hoe for consolation?
The thing that people don't understand about me, is that I'm not an emotional person. I just never have been. I'd rather be told the truth, than to have someone try to explain things gently. Just tell me what you did and get it over with to help us both. I'm not fragile and I'm not afraid. Never have been, and I never will be.
When we parked in the drive, I got out of the van, grabbing a few of my boxes. I walked up to the front door, and pushed it open with my foot, dropping my boxes to the ground when I saw the kitchen. 'Did Mom request that the company put in a pasta arm?' I asked myself. My mother was crazy about health and anything that had the word 'organic' written on it. I picked up one of the boxes and walked upstairs to the room that we'd decided would be mine. I dropped the box to the floor once again and walked to the open window. The house was beautiful. I thought that for a while, I could possibly convince myself that everything would be okay for once. Then reality set in, and I quickly dismissed the thought at the sound of my parents fighting. I searched for my cigarettes in my satchel. This was going to be a long night. Lighting one, I dismissed the world around me for a blissful moment.
Tate POV:
The family had arrived. Two parents and a beautiful girl. The girl walked in to my old bedroom, dropping a box with a thud. The parents then walked into the house and started fighting about plastic water bottles. The girl walked to the window and lit up a cigarette. 'Hmm. Camel. Just my type,' I smiled. She took a drag and looked into the distance. When she turned around, studying her room, I saw pain and distance in her eyes. What had happened to her to make her feel this way? She went into her bag again, and pulled out a razor blade. Oh no. I had to stop her. But I couldn't now..
Violet POV:
At dinner I just stared at my food, feeling sick to my stomach. My arm stung from the cuts that lined up on them and I longed for a cigarette. "Vi, eat your food. You haven't touched any of it, and your mother worked really hard on dinner," Ben said. "Yeah whatever. You don't care anyways. Tell you what. Why don't you go and find a new fuckbuddy, and Mom and I'll continue on with our lives. We'll be perfectly fine without you. Honestly Mom, I don't know what you were thinking. He's just going to do it again, because cheaters don't change their ways."
I got up, slamming my chair towards the table and racing up the stairs, tears streaming down my face. It wasn't going to end. The sadness and the pain just wasn't going to end. Then I saw the antidepressants on my nightstand. I grabbed them and continued to cry. I got up and grabbed a chair and a belt out of my closet. I grabbed my razor blade and my cigarettes. I wanted to die. I paced to and forth in front of my bed, contemplating suicide. I grabbed the belt and started to set it up in my closet. I stood on the chair, crying for a long time. The puzzling thing was, that no matter how focused I was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not this time. But I would. I jumped, kicking the chair from underneath me. My airway was immediately blocked and I started to choke. I didn't want to die yet. I kicked and fought to gee the chair back underneath me. Maybe I was becoming oxygen starved, but to this day, I swear something moved the chair back into my reach. I stood up, taking deep breaths and began to cry tears of joy.
Tate:
I watched as Violet struggled. I realized that she didn't want to die. She was just being irrational. I quickly moved the chair back into her reach and watched her cry. I wanted to offer some sort of comfort to her, but I couldn't until tomorrow, when Ben would see me as his patient. You see, my mother thought that it would be good for me to talk to someone about the things that go on in my head. What she doesn't know, is that telling people doesn't help anything. It just makes people scared of you. I could already hear the people on the streets. "Oh there's the Langdon boy. Don't mess with him; he's a sick psycho." That was if I was ever allowed to leave this house, which I'm not. Soon enough, Violet wouldn't either.
Not that I wanted her to have to spend the rest of her days here. That's why I helped her. She didn't deserve this.