To Be Together
He was the love of my life. He was the one to show me that someone could care about me; to show me love, to show me I mattered when life seemed not worth living. When nobody else was there, he was. And Tate was the only good thing I had going in my pathetic excuse of a life. He was there, and he made life worth living, until it became too much, too much to bear, and I had to swallow those pills. That bottle of pills. Every last one of them tore its way down my throat and settled into my being. And he just couldn't save me. Nobody could. How could they?
It was after Christmas that the house finally fell silent. Violet had spent her time avoiding the basement, avoiding where she knew Tate would be, avoiding him altogether. He had raped her mother after all. He was far from the Tate she had known and grown to love. Walking across the room, taking a seat with her parents in the kitchen, she could feel Tate watching her from his place in the living room, where he regularly sat with Hayden, the woman her father Ben had so kindly used to cheat on her mother Vivian.
Violet sat far from Tate. Every now and then she could feel his eyes on her. He would glance up then tear his eyes away, fix his gaze on anything but her. And Violet only smiled when he looked her way, as if to say, "this is what you lost, and this is what you will never get back. Because, Tate, don't you remember what you did to me?"
I watched her, absorbed in the pleasure and the way that I fucked her, that I stretched her out and drove my thick dick into that tight hole of hers. I have to admit it felt good. And having her think it was her husband under the rubber made it all the more enjoyable. I hovered above her, plunging in and out of her, desperate to impregnate her for Nora. I owed Nora a baby. She was more of a mother to me than any and if a baby was what she wanted, a baby she would get. The woman squirmed underneath me and I slammed into her one last time, sealing the deal.
"Tate," Hayden snapped again and she slipped her hand in his. "Tate; she won't love you again. You know that. How many times do I have to tell you - staring at her isn't going to help. Give up. Tate," She eyed Tate and saw that he had been crying, tears falling down his face in streams. But he was staring at Violet, and he didn't seem to hear Hayden.
"Vi," Tate cried, and this time Violet met his eyes. She disappeared from her stool in the kitchen and to her room upstairs, where she ended up on the bed, eyes closed as she heard Tate from downstairs.
"Violet!" He cried. "Vi; Vi, please.."
The memory of raping her mother was all too vivid for him. He had thought Vivian had been some stranger, not the mother of the girl he loved. Tate moved towards the staircase, planning on following Violet, when Ben suddenly blocked the way and grabbed him by his shirt. "Leave. You know that she wants nothing to do with you. Leave, and don't come back."
"Ben," Hayden rose from the couch, "Always doing what's right. Aren't you?"
Ben shoved Tate towards the front door just as it opened and the realtor stepped in with a family to show them the home, and the murder house went still again, all having disappeared.
The following day Violet woke up in her bed after a night of having cried herself to sleep. She walked through the hall, listening to her parents in the kitchen, talking about the plans to tear the house down being cancelled, that some family who had come to see the house and had, upon hearing about the history and pile of bodies that came along with it, left immediately. Violet rubbed at her eyes, deciding against going to join them, and headed up into the attic, where Beauregard Langdon spent his days. She smiled when she saw him. He had become one of her only friends aside from her parents. Otherwise things got pretty lonely around the house. She kicked the ball and it rolled across the floor towards Beau. She watched him laugh and roll it back and so she sat across from him, as she always did, and they rolled the ball back and forth. She thought of Adelaide then; the beautiful girl she had been. Violet opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she sensed another familiar presence in the room.
"Come here often?" Tate offered her a smile, catching the ball Beau threw at him and he tossed it between his hands, looking at Violet.
"Visit your son often?" Violet shot back, her eyes resting on Beau and her walls that had been down immediately went back up.
Tate looked away at that. He dropped down to sit where he stood and tossed the ball to Violet. "Your parents look happy with their baby." Tate murmured, eyeing her and unsure what else to say.
Violet rolled it to Beau, her eyes downcast. Ever since the baby, her parents had been closer than ever, closer to the baby and farther away from her. But they had all been through a lot and deserved some happiness, so Violet dealt with being alone. Or she had Beau at least.
"Vi," Tate said, not wanting to talk about his son that his mother had taken. He caught the ball Beau had whipped at him and smiled at his brother when he called out happily. He leaned over, flashing a grin at Violet. "Want to listen to some Cobain?" He teased, and, despite her efforts, Violet laughed.
Beau clapped when Violet laughed and he bounded over to her, throwing his arms around her and hugging her, making Violet laugh even harder.
Tate laughed and rolled the ball across the floor, watching it disappear and laughed as Beau hurried under his bed after it. He looked at Violet then and grinned, and she bent her head down towards her lap, and smiled.
Please comment if you want more! Hope it was decent haha. Thank you
