NO LIGHT IN THE DARK

Violet misses Tate, but she can't help it. She spends her days in waves of loneliness and agony, craving simple touch and words.

Ben and Vivian have been gone for years now. Dead, like her. But they didn't come back. They were in car accident on the way to the hospital, instead of being stuck here for eternity. They were free, happy.

Happy. Violet couldn't even remember feeling the emotion; she just knew it was a long time ago, before all this bullshit happened. To be honest, Violet doesn't really feel much at all.

Moira speaks to her sometimes, giving wise words on the house and the spirits, but it does nothing to fade Violet's isolation. A part of her hopes a new family would move in, but she knows the house is far too cruel for that to be allowed. Besides, it's getting too crowded. Another dead person and they'd need an extension on the residence.

Every day she goes upstairs in the attic to play ball with Beau and sits on her bedroom floor listening to old Morrissey and sometimes even walks round in the basement, listening to the distant cries of some other trapped ghost.

It's boring, but it's constant.

Doing those things is better than nothing. After standing for too long she would find herself drifting away, forgetting her former self. It terrified her and she would rather remain lonely but with memories to look back to, then to be empty and have nothing at all.

Well, that's what she thought a while back.

Now she isn't so sure.

After having years to dwell on every moment of your existence, you begin to see some things in a different perspective. Violet was tempted just to forget everything, forget Tate, forget her family… maybe it would offer some closure to her wandering mind and finally stop the feeling of longing that courses through her veins.

Sometimes she wakes up in the bathtub, sobs wracking her body for reasons now unknown to her.

All she knows forever, in the corner of her faulty mind, is that there is something missing. Something she cannot move on without. Tate.

Before she has a chance to erase him from her mind, memories always begin flooding back to her. The feeling of his warm lips pressing against her hair and the sound of their careless laughter… the taste of soft kisses and hidden smiles as he gently nuzzles her neck.

The memories make her sad, which is why she is determined to make them go away.

In the end, longing is worse than any thought of depression or loneliness.

(15 YEARS LATER)

VIOLET-POV

I wake up curled up in the bathtub again, hot tears flooding down my cheeks. My head is pounding and I feel like I can't breathe- but why does it matter? I'm dead.

For a while, I don't move. I lay there drowning in my own pity, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as I regain my normal heartbeat.

I hear Moira let herself in and I stay silent as she sits on the edge of the tub and stares sadly down at me. "Your crying is disrupting the residents of the house. I advise you make your presence unknown until they have fully settled in."

Untrusting of my raspy voice, I nod, never meeting her eyes. Instead of just getting out of the bath, I will myself to fade out.

I hope I don't come back.

TATE-POV

My eyes well up with tears as I watch her wake up again. At first she's confused, wondering why she's in the bathtub, but then she is too consumed by her sobbing and sadness to care.

My whole heart and body longs to crouch beside her and pull her into my arms. I would caress her face and kiss away all her fallen tears, bringing her out of her dazed state of nothingness… but Hayden tells me it isn't time yet. She says I should wait a while before talking to my Vi, or she would be even more upset.

I never wanted to hurt her- it was the last thing I wanted to do. Guilt clouds over my mind when I remember her face as Chad told her of the things I had done; the sins I have committed. She had fallen to the floor in grief, already so overcome with the unfortunate death of her parents.

When I tried to comfort her, she had shoved me away, screaming at me to go away. Ever since that moment I have been watching her, protecting her from the other ghosts of the house, waiting for the delicate moment where I would reappear to her.

Maybe someday she would be happy again- that was all that mattered to me. I didn't want her to be lonely; I wanted her to feel loved.

(5 YEARS LATER)

VIOLET-POV

Today felt different to the other days. I'm not sure why. I woke up in my bed, curled up in the covers after a dreamless sleep. My head still felt heavy when I stood up, but today there was another emotion other than longing swirling through me.

It was the feeling of giving up. To me, that was kind of like hope in this desolate wasteland. Because that night, as I was thinking through all my usual thoughts, I got an idea.

I knew how to set myself free. I think, I hope.

A distant thought, or made up memory, had come into my head. It was me, screaming 'go away!' into an empty space.

So that's all I have to do.

Just tell myself to go away.

TATE-POV

My fingertips hover so closely to her cheek I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin and her soft breathing against me. Violet was curled up in a fetal position on the bed, hugging the covers to her as if they were her life line.

I lay with her on the bed now, every night. Ever since I had started this routine, she had yet to wake in the bathtub, her place of death and despair. I tuck her in with fleece blankets and extra pillows, wanting her to feel safe. It's the closest alternate I can get to holding her.

She wakes up and I slowly retreat my hand, watching her as she stands from the bed and walks towards the bathroom.

This is weird. Normally she would cry for a while before leaving the bed. A confused look on my face, I follow her.

Her eyes are locked strongly in the mirror, a fierce look a determination in her expression that I haven't seen for years.

Cautiously, she raises both hands and presses them palm up on the glass. "Violet." She whispers, as if addressing another person. "Don't screw this up." Her voice is rough and frail; I know she hasn't spoken in a while.

There's a moment of silence, then two words roughly part her lips.

"Go away!" She says loudly, suddenly glaring at the reflection.

A shock runs through me and I freeze for a moment. No…

"GO AWAY!" She shouts, hitting the glass.

"No, Violet! Don't do this!" I try and grab her wrists to pull her away from the reflection, but her body is already fading. She repeats the words, even angrier and stronger than before.

Fear pulses through me, lighting my body in panic. Tears are blurring my vision, a rough lump in my throat. "Violet, no!" I shout, trying to get her to see me. I grasp blindly to her, but she's almost gone. "Don't do this, Vi!"

"VIOLET, GO AWAY!" Her desperate scream breaks through my cries, but her eyes shut for one tiny moment and break the connection with the reflection.

I yank her away and she falls into the safety of my arms. Crying, she looks up and meets my gaze. "What-"

A look of recognition crosses her and I feel her legs go weak. "Tate?" She begins to sob, but wraps her arms tightly round my waist, burying her head into my chest. I crouch down and pull her into my lap, rocking her gently and kissing the top of her head. "I'm so sorry," she cries, a broken sound coming from her throat.

We sob and hold each other, feeling something other than the longing and loneliness for once. "It's okay, Vi. Calm down." I stroke her face, wiping her tears like I had dreamed of doing.

"I remember you, Tate." She whispers, taking in air from her sobs and staring right into my eyes. "I remember…"

A/N I'm not really sure what this is. I'm just unable to sleep right now and it's 4am and I'm tired. :L The point of views are weird, but I wanted to test out different ones. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please don't be too mean. :)