a/n: I really recommend you listen to 'The Lonely' by Christina Perri while reading this - I wrote it while listening myself and have included snatches of lyrics, too, so listening to it as you read would really help capture the mood.
2 a.m., where do I begin?
Crying off my face again
The silent sounds of loneliness
Wants to follow me to bed
i;
Screams ripped through her throat. Her head was throbbing and her lungs threatened to burst as she tore through the corridors, screeching at the top of her voice. Nobody could hear, however. Nobody would ever hear her outbursts, the moments when everything became too much for her brain to handle. Her wail was interrupted suddenly as her breath caught in her throat, a sob escaping instead. She stopped suddenly, her sore feet refusing to run any further. Hands flying out to grip the nearby banister, she clung tightly onto the wood as she sank slowly to the floor. Her whole body shuddered as the gasping breaths rattled through her, desperate to flee.
Violet wished she could flee, too, but she was trapped. Claustrophobia kicking in, she felt like the walls around her were drawing closer, shrinking her space, threatening to smother her. The words she had just spoken were being blared around her mind over and over: Goodbye, Tate. Goodbye, Tate—
"Goodbye," she whispered.
I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most
I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well
ii;
Locked inside the bathroom, Violet looked at herself in the grubby mirror. Her eyes wandered along the length of her upper body, absorbing every detail. Their rims were speckled red and puffed from crying. She squeezed them shut and snapped her head away from the sight of herself. It had been three months since she had banished him,said goodbye. In that time, she'd never once uttered his name. He'd been preying on her mind nevertheless; sucking in her thoughts and replacing them with memories of him. The deep chuckle of his laugh. The folding of his dimples as he smiled at her. The flipping of her stomach as his hands stroked her skin. The dark depths of his eyes. How they would flash up at her and pierce her cold outward pretences. His neck, lips, hair, cheekbones, arms.
Dancing slowly in an empty room
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in to take my heart again
iii;
The clatter of pebbles against the glass of her window rattled around the room. Looking up from her geometry homework, Violet's face melted into a smile. She shook her head in mock exasperation and walked over to the window, raising her eyebrows at the boy standing on the lawn outside. He ran his hand through his curly mop of blond hair and grinned up at her, causing Violet's heart to thud against her ribs a fraction faster. She glanced back at the schoolbooks which lay open on her desk and considered the word she had due, then looked back at her boyfriend. As if reading her mind, Tate held his hands together and brought them up against his lips, widening his eyes and imitating a puppy-dog.
"Asshole," Violet called down to him, with an endearing laugh despite her words. She gestured the number three with her fingers, then left her windowsill. Three minutes until she would be with him, Violet closed her geometry books and flicked off the desk lamp. She lowered her music, too, changing from a mix of loud, angry girl bands to softer, haunting melodies. After a final glance in the mirror, she headed downstairs. Her parents were in the sitting room, the tinny noises of the television echoing through the hall. Violet crept past the room's closed door, tiptoeing towards the side door. She unlatched it and pulled it open as quietly as possible, expecting to see her boyfriend's stupid face beaming back at her.
But there was nobody there, and Violet's features furrowed into a frown. She went to hiss his name, when all of a sudden something yanked her outside. She let out a small yell, before collapsing into laughter as she realised that it was only Tate. He was kissing her neck and muttering unintelligibly as he wrapped himself around her, the couple stumbling backwards onto the grass. Violet shushed him as she laughed gleefully. They fell silent, each looking at the other. Violet traced two fingers along his forehead to move his messy hair from his eyes, wishing the moment would never end.
Sprawled on the dewy grass, the pair grinned at each other.
Broken pieces of
A barely breathing story
Where there once was love
Now there's only me and the lonely
ii;
Violet let out a strangled sob. She had to stop doing this to herself. Tate was a monster, a killer. He should be forgotten entirely, vanquished from her mind. Lips curling into a disgusted grimace, Violet recounted the many things the boy had done. Each twisted act of his perception of heroism, each instance of death or pain he inflicted, she forced herself to remember them all. It was her way of staying sane, of staying away from him. She routinely punished herself with those thoughts, hoping they could eradicate any other feelings she had towards him.
Sometimes she'd lose control of her emotions, would nearly cry out. She knew he'd appear in an instant. It would only take one word – one name – and he'd be close. His arms would be there to wrap around her, his mouth to press against her forehead, his hands to hold hers. Violet would imagine the embrace and her lips would part, the word forming in the back of her throat. Then she'd think of her mother, of what Tate did to her, and her teeth would grind together. Tears would sting in her eyes and the loveless teenager would become fierce, her thoughts of Tate set in malice until she lost her grasp again. It was a constant cycle, breaking her little by little.
Violet moved from the bathroom and into the darkened corridor beyond, coming to rest at a window. It looked out at the garden, illuminated by the moon and stars. Her eyes stared the twinkling skies, their beauty something she had never noticed while living. Then her gaze fell downwards, stopping at the lawn below.
The grass was dewy.
Dancing slowly in an empty room
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in to take my heart again
a/n: hope you liked it! if so, please leave a review - it's what encourages me to keep writing and it only takes a moment. thank you!