Flowers for a Ghost

A Tate and Violet Fan fiction

It was a normal day. I woke up to my parents screams and shouts like every morning. I crawled out of bed clad in baggy sweats and a loose fit camisole just as I did the day before. I found my reflection in the mirror and sighed then padded into the bathroom down the hall. My feet weighed down on the creaking floor boards with every step. No matter how many jumps I made to try and avoid the loose wood, I hit them with no prevail. Downstairs, I heard my mother screech at my father and I cringed. Why was he in this house? His first patient wouldn't arrive until noon. I groaned and splashed cold water on my face. I found my tooth brush and floss and finished up my morning routine. I walked back to my room to catch him lying on my covers. His shirt was off and his hands were folded behind his head. A smirk adorned his face and his dirty blonde hair was tousled and astray.

"Violet." He smiled. "I apologize for leaving earlier. Your father came in to wake you up and you know," Tate sat up to rest his elbows on his knees. "He doesn't like me here when he's not around."

I gave Tate a small smile and approached the bed. I was cautious to sit beside him. Last night, Tate had stayed over; as well as the past few nights. Even without permission, he would appeared by my window and ask to stay the night. It was still foreign but thrilling each time I went near him though. My skin turned to gooseflesh when he spoke. I found my mind so cluttered nowadays and all of these hormones that were injected into my bloodstream weren't making things better. So I propped myself on the edge of the bed. I didn't stay there long. Before I knew it Tate reached forward and pulled at my waist. He grabbed me and rolled us over, causing my body to topple over his. I felt his lips at my throat and I swallowed hard before falling between his legs. His hands ghosted up my sides and clung to my hips. I smirked and flawlessly captured his mouth with my own.

Tate tucked away for a second to sigh, "Minty fresh," He smiled and dragged his tongue then teeth along my lower lip. I groaned and tangled my nimble fingers in the hair behind his ear, curling my nails along the fleshy skin of his earlobe. This almost didn't seem real.

"Violet!" A voice shouted from downstairs. My body froze. I felt a push as Tate sat us up. I slid into his lap, his package hard against my thigh. I smirked again before crawling away from him and the bed.

"I'll be right back." I said and backed up to the door to grip the doorknob and discreetly enter the hall.

I pulled the door loosely in its frame and made my way downstairs. I passed Moira in the foyer. Her ghost eye kept a glare in my direction as she crossed my path with a bundle of fresh sheets in her arms. I walked into the kitchen to find Dad and Mom at each other's throats. The moment I appeared they stopped. All shouts abruptly ceased and Mom turned to me with a sigh.

"Violet, you're going to be late. Eat something and I'll drive you to school."

I began to shake my head. "I'm walking; I always do." I muttered and scavenged through the fridge for orange juice. I scanned the shelves containing leftover take out, cartons of milk and orange juice and a bucket of grapes. I almost wanted to smile with relief when I didn't smell or see a fleshy and bloody delicacy of Constance's. "What a relief," I said aloud; my words dripping with sarcasm. "There's no brains in here today." I grabbed the juice and poured myself a glass. "If I saw another one of those I might have gone mad." I made my eyebrows rise before I quickly gulped down the concentrate and dashed back upstairs. I heard my voice being called again but I didn't care. I ran to my room and shut the door with a slam. "Tate," I called because looking around my room he wasn't there.

"Yeah?" I jumped when he appeared beside me; my heart sputtering from shock.

"I'm not going to school." I told him and headed for my closet to collect my clothes for the day.

I grabbed at an over sized sweater and tight leggings. I buttoned up the olive cardigan and stepped out of my sweatpants to pull on the leggings.

While fixing my sweater and searching for socks, Tate somehow wrapped his arms around my waist and held me tightly. "Want to explore? Last time I was here I found this garden way back in the yard that I thought you might like." He glanced at me with a smile playing his features.

"Sure," I told him and slid into my boots and led him out of my bedroom. "Meet me in the backyard in ten minutes." I told him before dashing down the stairs. Halfway down the staircase I glanced up at Tate at the balcony who was still smiling before turning away to head down to the yard. I continued down the stairs and grabbed my bag at the door and checking if my pack of cigarettes was inside before I unlocked the door and shouted, "I'm leaving!" I ran through the entry and sprinted down the front steps. Once I got to the gate I turned back to the house. Its tall build was looming over me in the early morning light. I couldn't help but smile. "The house we survived in." I repeated quietly and felt a eery chill run down my spine as a looked over the stained glass windows and haunting levels. I pivoted away from the building and made my way on the sidewalk to only wander back onto the property. I crawled through the bushes and shrubbery and entered the backyard. My father's gazebo was centered in my vision and a barren clothesline was strung from the house to a nearby tree. All the trees stood tall and deeper into the property the fauna grew thicker. I took a deep breath before grabbing my cigarettes and lighter from my bag. The bag was tossed to the ground beyond an oak and my things were stuffed into my fists. I then took off into the grove behind the house.

I was alone for some time before I heard a voice calling after me. "Violet!" Tate appeared behind me. I faced him and welcomed his embrace when he came closer and wrapped his strong arms about me. We stood there for a few moments. Tate's mouth softly pressed against my temple before he pulled back slightly and whispered, "Come on, let's go." A smile clung to his lips as he reached out his hand for me to grasp. I dug my things into his back pocket when my hand crawled around his back. My fingers almost could reach around the back if his torso while his hand gripped my waist tightly. We ventured further into the yard and I could feel Tate close in closer towards me. I had melted into the crook of his arm. "We're almost there." He assured and brought me past a few more trees.

Then suddenly the landscape cleared and before us was a small patch of flowers. They were tall and unkempt but there nonetheless. Between the roots of the blossoms were small smooth stones that framed the garden. It was a different kind of beauty, just like the black, spray painted rose Tate had given me on Halloween. A rusted bench lay between two trees and a few colored glass bottles were hung from the branches. The garden was serene. I stepped away from Tate for a moment to look around the clearing. The entire time I walked around the garden I would glance back at Tate to see him very attentive and following my steps with his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked and met up with him. He was staring at a spot on the ground with uprooted ground and no greenery.

"I feel connected to this place." He muttered and kicked a stray pebble away from the exposed dirt. "That's how I found it in the first place. I left your house from the backdoor and thought about my nightmares for a second, just a second. Next thing I know I'm wandering into your yard for hell knows what." I thought about it for a while.

"What are your nightmares about, Tate?" I asked quietly.

Tate looked down at me before squatting down and sitting cross-legged near the patch of dirt. He beckoned me to come to sit with him. He pulled me into his lap and kissed the back if my neck. "These dreams always start the same way: I'm going somewhere. I know where I'm going and the people know too. They want to stop me but they can't; I'm the only one who can stop myself. I walk into this room and everyone starts looking at me. I then pull out a shotgun and blow all their fucking heads off." He sadistically laughs. "The damn teacher too." I stare closely at the ground; processing his words.

"Why do you do it; kill all those people?" I ask.

Tate shifts my weight on his lap and hugs me tighter. "I'm saving them. I'm saving them from this god damn shit hole. I tell myself that, you know." My movements become numb but I nod my head. "But whenever I have those nightmares I stop myself and think of you. You help get rid of the nightmares, Violet." He said sincerely and wrapped his arms tighter around my torso. I leaned in close to his body but I gulped. I remembered Constance telling of Tate's death. I remembered visiting the library and finding the facts online. Tate is dead. Tate got shot for killing those innocent students; the assholes who found us on Halloween. The connection he felt was a "soul meets body" instance. Eeriness fell upon where we sat; only six feet under lay Tate's corpse. We had just found Tate's grave. My spine froze and I then felt his lips on the back of my neck. "What's wrong, Violet?" He murmured softly.

"I've had enough exploring for today." I told him and began to stand up. He helped me up and started to walk back to the house. Once we made it back I pulled my cigarettes out of his back pocket. "Want to smoke these on the back porch?" I asked him and fiddled with my lighter.

He nodded and when we got to the deck he took the lighter and lit my cigarette for me. "Any new music you've listened to?"

"Plenty." I replied.

"Any good ones to make out to?" He wondered aloud smugly, his eyebrows wiggling up and down.

"You know it." We left the conversation there and looked out into the woods for awhile. My mind was racing but everything else was so casual. The scariest part about it all was that Tate didn't even know. His poor, lost soul still didn't even realize how gone it was.

"Can I hear what tracks you got?" Tate asked.

I dropped my cigarette butt to the ground and smothered it with my shoe; the tar and shit smearing onto the concrete. I hopped onto my feet and walked behind Tate towards the basement; my fingertips dragging along his shoulder blades as I past him. "Surely." I said seductively.