The wind whistled past the windows, always in a rush to be somewhere else. Nothing wanted to be here, not even the wind. Violet leaned her forehead against the glass, it was cool but only barley. It was like the sensation of the cold glass was muffled behind fabric, her senses dulled. That was how the dead lived.
She sighed. It'd been a long time. It'd be 1,295 days, a little over three years, in this house. It wasn't so bad, or at least it could be a lot worse. At least she had her parents, and Moria, the little girls who lived here and Travis. They were all nice enough.
She turned to walk back to her room. The wall paper was stating to curl as she dragged her fingernails across it. The faded dark blue paper held in secrets, beneath it was the stained bloody walls of the house. Every night it creaked and groaned, telling its prisoners of the life they would spend in tortured solitude and eternity they would endure. Now that Violet was dead she could finally understand the house's language, the secrets it would whisper to her at night. It was driving her mad.
Her bedroom was bare, things picked away by real estate and past buyers long ago like vultures. Although, there was furniture in the attic that her dad and Patrick had moved around to make it feel more homely. An old moth eaten couch from the Montgomery family, some furniture from the Ramos family since they had left in such a rush.
Violet sat down in the center of the floor, her book balanced in her lap. At least she had books.
The first few months of the house, after the tragedy, had been fine. It seemed like death fit the Harmon family even better than life had. Ben ad Vivien were getting along, not just the struggled, strained relationship that she was use to but something easy and flowing. They laughed and smiled, held their newest member of the family in their arms.
"Isn't he beautiful?" Vivien leaned down to show Violet her baby brother. He was tiny, his hair barley wisps on his head and his eyes big and blue like Ben's.
Those first months were fine. Violet was aching inside, her inside would turn to mush and melt and quiver every time she let her mind wander to the future. A future without moving, a future where there truly was no future.
Violet sighed and leaned back on the hard wood floor. Her thick blonde hair fanned out around her. The ceiling loomed and arched above her, if she closed her eyes for a second she could believe that it was the sky above her.
Now three years later it was all starting to crumble. The baby was still a baby. Violet was still dead.
A soft knock on the bedroom door jerked her from her thoughts, the future floating away. Violet propped herself up on her elbows just in time to see her mom peak around the corner.
"Hey, Vi." She said softly. "Can I come in?" Violet didn't say anything but Vivien quickly stepped in anyways. Vivien was pretty, her red hair hung down her back in loose curls and her brown eyes reminded Violet of a doe's. "I just wanted to see what you were up to." She said taking a seat next to Violet.
"The same thing as every day," Violet muttered. Vivien didn't say anything, just nodded slowly.
"I was talking with your dad that maybe we could start a magazine subscription, or just the local newspaper. And Chad was saying how since the backyard is pretty well hidden behind the house we could spend more time out there."
"That'd be nice." Violet had been out in the yard only a few times before but had quickly given up on that idea. Once when she'd been standing underneath the shade of one of the trees, her hand resting on the rough bark, she breathed in heavily and turned her face up to the sun. A neighbor walking their dog came up to the locked gates. "Hey!" He shouted. Violet looked over startled. "you aren't allowed on this property. That's why the gates locked." He reached into his pocket to grab his cell phone but when he looked back up she was gone.
That's why Violet didn't go outside anymore; she couldn't risk being seen by random people. She couldn't risk her only second chance at life. But the backyard, she hadn't considered and since the hedges had grown taller it would be harder to see the family sitting on the gazebo back there.
"Mhm," Vivien smiled at her. After a brief pause the sound of William, Violet's brother, crying was obvious from down stairs. Vivien sighed with a strained smile and stood up, quickly smoothed a hand over Violet's hair and left.
Violet stood up, there was no point in being the bedroom anyways, it wasn't hers anymore. She moved down the stairs. For such an empty abandoned house it was very crowded. In the attic Violet could hear Beau moving about, his chains dragging. The basement was the central hangout for the less active souls, including the Harvey family who were burned to death by their mother, the Montgomery family, and several others. If Violet really felt like being brave she would wander down there in search of Margret and Angela Harvey the two little girls to play with, or Travis. But going in the basement had several risks; more sinister souls lived down there, including Hayden… or Tate. Not really worth it.
On her way down the stairs she bumped into Moria. The old woman nodded at her, saying a quiet "pardon me, miss Violet" before stepping around. She stilled cleaned the house, it seemed to help relieve some of the boredom. At the vary last step she felt a pair of hands shove her from behind, she tripped and fell on her knees hard enough to bruise them. She twisted her neck back to see who pushed her. A pair of twin grinning faces laughed. It was the twins, they were always causing mischief and harassing anyone they could find.
"Get out of here, brats!" Violet snapped. She felt flushed and hot, she hated it when they did that to her. Their freckled faces grinned down at her, their teeth showing almost all the way to their molars. Pop rocks rained down around her, stinging her hands and feet. She scrambled up to lunge at them and shove them backward against the steps but by then they were gone… disappeared into thin air. Their nasally laughter still drifted in the air. Violet huffed, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
She stood in the front entrance of the house, hallways stretching out on either side of her. The front door looming in front of her. The door knob felt chillingly cold in her grip. Beyond this thick wood door and glass window was a world. Every day in this house was becoming more and more unbearable.