Resent

The couple ran out of their new house, screaming. Their fear was seeping out of every one of their pores. "Yes?" the real estate woman sighed. She was tired of the same thing happening, over and over. She just couldn't get the house to sell permanently. It was always, "somebody died" this or "it's haunted" that. Although she didn't know too much about the situation, she knew that they were trying to save people, but she didn't know much else.

On the occasion, people would report hearing music playing- and not your typical organ-haunted house music either. Usually it was some sort of indie band, or punk rock. It was things like the Ramones, Bon Iver, or Mirah. Violet Harmon's music. Of course there were the more usual, long-term sightings, such as: the mischievous twins, the sad woman- missing her baby, the evil spirits, the maid who came with the house, and more. It wasn't often that people got a glimpse of Tate- hell, even the other ghosts rarely saw him, but people could usually feel he was there. His sadness and insanity leaked into the air, while him himself lurked in the shadows, waiting for Violet.

Whenever someone saw Violet, it was usually like when she met the teenage boy and went through his music. One time she was seen cutting again, inside the bathroom. Another, she was seen talking to a big family's teenage girl- she missed real people sometimes. Most of the time though, she spent it missing Tate. Although a lot of the ghosts were like a real family together, she couldn't just stop loving him, although it hurt. Everything weighed together, she still couldn't forgive him, and he resented it.

Cobain

There was a dysfunctional family of two who had seen the haunted house tour and marked it off as lame, who had heard all the stories and dismissed them, who said that even if there were ghosts it would be a house for the living. It would be their house. The father drank too much and held high standards for his below-average-performance son. His son, Charlie, had his own problems though.

Charlie had a few friends in school, but he didn't talk much. He had severe depression and a few undiagnosed problems (and the fact that his mother died a few years ago just made it worse). The few people he occasionally spoke to in school had better people to speak to anyways. He lay on the bed in his new bedroom, Polly by Kurt Cobain blasting on his iPod. Violet sat invisible by his door, listening to it, remembering how Tate liked Cobain. Tate leaned against the outside of the door, neither of them knowing each other was there.

All of a sudden, like a wave undulating through the air, a familiar voice called out "Violet". In her shock, just for a few seconds, she became visible and she knew the boy saw her. He grabbed his sketchbook from the underside of his bed.

"Violet, come on out now," it was Billie Dean Howard. Without words, the depressive teen appeared before her. Charlie's father was out, and it wasn't rare for people to just appear in the house anyways. "What?" Violet was becoming more hostile by the day, and quite a few other ghosts in the house had been becoming more angry and resentful themselves.

"Come now, I'm your last living contact, aren't I? At least one that understands... Come talk to me," Billie walked over into the kitchen and hopped up onto one of the stools at the island. Violet almost, sort-of, close to, half smiled and followed that with a "sorry".

Charlie

His straight black hair hung with layers over his forehead, and messily covered his head. It contrasted his pale skin and bright green eyes. He usually wore thin sweaters, or sweatshirts, or t-shirts, and then jeans. Charlie didn't like wearing shoes often, so he certainly didn't wear them around the house. With how beautiful every bit of his body was, he could've been a model. But he was depressed and invisible and all anyone ever thought when they looked at him was "ordinary".

Elucid

"How are you adjusting?" Billie was watching Violet carefully, even if she hadn't seen her in a long time, she knew Violet was just about the only innocent spirit in the house... Like a bird chained to the same floor as lions.

"To being dead? Great." Violet would occasionally fade in and out when she dove into her sorrow. It was like a cold pool of water in autumn, it was painful and sad, but she couldn't stop retreating to it.

"How are you adjusting to the other spirits...? Any recent violence?"

"What are you even doing here?" Violet snapped, "what are you trying to accomplish?"

"Violet! I don't think you understand how serious this situation is," Billie leaned into her and her voice got threatening, "after that anti-christ was born, people started noticing all of the people disappearing-no thanks to Mrs. Langdon over there, so she had to have her precious grand-baby locked up. He is powerful though, he will always remember this house, he will know certain things about it, he could find his way back blindfolded. Now if that was just a spawn of this house, whatever gave it such evil has to be twice as worse." Violet detested this.

Violet dove down once again. Billie was trying to help, but both of them felt stuck. She had reminded her of Tate, of what he'd done, it's what she spent all of her time trying to forget about. "Ahhhh!" Violet shrieked and disappeared. She was standing, invisible to the average person, by the kitchen doorway.

Footsteps sprinted across the upstairs floorboards and down the stairs, Charlie flung himself around the corner, only to hear the outside kitchen door close. Billie hid for a few moments, and speaking softly to Violet said, "well played, but losing your only real person contact won't turn out well for you."

Violet watched Charlie as he somewhat hastily looked around the kitchen and around it, wondering what happened. Tate watched Violet watching Charlie... Whenever Tate had even a small feeling that Violet was in trouble, he was there. This time he stood just barely behind the first steps of the stairwell. "Hello?" Charlie called out. "Is anyone there?"

A ripple affect would pulse through the house every so often. "Helloooo?" Charlie was obviously a bit freaked out, looking everywhere: under the table, around every corner a few times, out the windows... Violet smiled at that, which made Tate smile just a bit. Violet's smile made her parents smile, even if they weren't really there at the time. Just a small drop from Violet's cold tarn would surge through everyone- everything. Somehow, that small, indiscrete smile made its way to Charlie as he almost laughed, shaking his head, and headed back upstairs.

Conway

DING DONG. The doorbell rang.

Charlie's dad had a bad hangover, the curtains were drawn, and he looked like a mess. "Coming!" he yelled in his raspy voice. Tate watched, sitting on the bottom two stairs, as the man hobbled over to the large wooden door. "Well, hello there..." the man said, obviously liking what he saw.

"Hello. I'm sorry to inconvenience you," the woman flirted.

"Oh, it's no inconvenience at all." He looked her up and down. She was wearing a small black and white dress, revealing more than she felt comfortable with. "May I uh, help you?"

"Well, it has come to the school's attention that Charlie has missed a few weeks of school. I was sent over from the guidance department, they wanted to offer homeschooling as an option if he's having troubles."

"Great," he said smirking. "I'm Roger Conway, but you can call me Roger," he loosened his robe belt, still smirking.

"I'm Amy Collins," she smiled widely, gaining the attention she planned for.

"Well, won't you come in, Mrs. Collins?" he opened the door a bit wider, but not much, enough so she would have to squeeze past him.

"Please, Miss Collins- or Amy," it was just what he wanted to here. No Mrs. means no Mr.

"Charlie!" his voice raptured through the house, as he guided Amy into the living room to sit down. "What?!" Charlie yelled back as he dragged himself down the steps. He stopped and stood right next to where Tate was sitting. "Meet the tutor for the school's homeschooling program."

Roger failed to catch the look of severe disappointment in him. "I don't want to be homeschooled." he whispered to his father.

"Hello Charlie," Amy smiled at him, shifting her cleavage to face him, "we were just discussing possibly holding the classes here, since you have such a big house, and then the couple other kids could just come over for a bit of the day. You could make some nice friends," she pleaded.

Charlie never really got a say in things. Especially if his dad could involve himself. He was power-hungry. Charlie just angrily went up stairs and blasted his music.

Niece

Amy told Charlie a bit about it. Three boys and two girls would be coming. The first day for the first half hour, their parents would be there, to know what would be going on and such. Then the kids would meet and all, talk for a bit, and then Amy would discuss the curriculum with them. He hated the very thought of it, but he was a bit more sociable than some people, so he just played along.

Most of them were seventeen, and a small few were sixteen, but not far behind.

The first people to show up were two boys, twins. One had blonde hair and the other blue. The blonde one, Avis, was younger by a minute or two- the older one being Dorian (Rian for short). They sat with their two mothers, exchanging banter with Amy, Moira, and Roger. Next there was a girl with orange hair and brown eyes named Baley, who never seemed to be caught without a smile or at least a laugh. Her and her brunette older sister who she lived with fit in just fine. Charlie stayed outside their little group, unknowingly sitting next to Tate on the bottom stair. The third boy was Ray, an averaged height, quiet, Jensen boy. Ray and his mother and father shared tea and jokes and their concerns/compliments with the others- as if everything were perfectly normal. Lastly, a girl with dirty blonde/light brown hair who dressed differently but was very pretty. "Hello, I'm Billie, this is my niece Violet," so far, they fit in.

Charlie couldn't help but watch this girl, so still, yet seemingly alive. He'd watch all of them, interacting, laughing, all except Violet who made sure to stay polite, yet without releaving a thing about her. Everyone else was saying the town they were from, their school stories, family life, favourite things, and there she sat on the pale, paisley couch- she was just Violet.

Billie got up from her seat next to Violet, leaving her alone on the couch "I'll be back in a half-hour," she said quietly to Violet as she paid her dues and left. "Dammit-all Charlie, get your ass over here," Roger was as snappy as ever. Charlie left the room. Violet's somewhat fake smile faded as she nodded along with what people were saying, absently. He shortly returned with two cups of tea, freshly made. Charlie sat down next to Violet.

"Thanks," she said as she received one of the white teacups from him. They were matching, both with black anchors and swirls. Something was written on them in cursive, but she'd rather look at him than decipher

the words. "No problem," he smiled a bit. "So, it's Violet, right?" he pretended as if he hadn't been spending his afternoon trying to figure her out. "Yeah, and you're Charlie?" she took a few sips from her tea, thinking how it was a bit odd they lived in the same house. "Mhm," he sipped his tea quietly, "so, what's your deal?" Her heart raced. Had he noticed something off about her? "You haven't said anything about yourself. What brought you here?" She breathed deep, relieved.

"Well, what about you? You haven't said a thing about you yourself." she had experience with changing the subject off of herself. "No, you're not getting away that quickly. Say something about yourself," he pryed. "Okay then.." she thought for a moment, "what do you want to know?" She couldn't think of anything suttle to say. "Your favourite colour, your vices, your middle name, why you're here, anything." He sat his tea cup down after having finished it, giving her his full attention. No subject changes out of this one. "Lucille" she sipped the last bit of her tea and swirled the bits of tea leaves around her cup. "I hate it."

"Violet Lucille," he smiled, "well, Lucy, I like it." His very sad green eyes went from squinting form the beaming sun through a curtain, to dilated. The skies had clouded over darkly, like in the evening (except around 1:00-2:00). "Oh, loook at Charlie and his newww girlfriendd," Roger had gotten drunk once again. He had a tendency to try to embarrass Charlie, but in fault, embarrassing himself. Charlie shot him a nasty look of disappointment and disgust. "What?" he smiled, "gettingg embarrassed?" Roger was being so cliché that it was almost aggravating, "pooor little Charrrlieee." Charlie's whole face showed his irritation all over his body- nostrils flaring, fists constricting and loosening...

The people in the room had grown awkwardly quiet, all suddenly aware of the pending confliction. "Youu know what we used to cal-ll him? Since h-he used to wetdd the bed, we'd call himm-" Suddenly Charlie rose out of his seat, fists clenched so tight they almost bled. He inhaled deeply, clearly about to blow. Abruptly, he exhaled, loosened his whole body, and calmed down. He faced Violet who was obviously a bit uncomfortable, and asked "care to go for a walk?"

She stood and followed him out.

Cigarette

The two of them sat on one of the brick ledges around the backside on the outside of the house. Both about four feet apart, sitting facing away from the house, legs dangling off the edge. He looked down and saw a dozen smoked cigarettes in the dirt behind the shrub. "Guess the old owner used to smoke," he sort-of laughed while she glanced down to where he'd been looking. Violet sort-of laughed back at it (them having been hers).

"So," he said as he gazed at her. "So," she replied, looking at him back, to which he proceeded to look away and up at the grey sky. "Like any good bands?" he asked, not knowing quite what to say. "Mirah, Ramones, that sort of stuff," being a ghost had made her more tired than usual, evening talking took a toll after a while. "Citizen?" he pondered. "Citizen," she agreed.

"Charlieee!" a high pitched voice called from inside the house with irritance. It was Amy. Charlie quickly jumped off from where he was sitting and rushed inside. His father had been laying on the floor, the room was quite aside from the interested voices wondering about it. Amy was a bit of a mess, "oh he just sort of dozed off and fell out of his chair! Is he okay?"

Charlie gave her the most absently annoyed look he could muster. "He's just passed out," he grabbed Roger by under the arms and dragged him through the doorway and into another room's armchair. It was a thing he'd had to do for a while now, ever since he'd started drinking. "Oh... Well, I think that would be a nice place to end it, don't you agree?" Amy clasped her hands together and stood, and while making no effort to fix her dress into being more covering, revealing a black bra edge. One of the twin's mothers had been flirting with her, and certainly didn't mind her indecency (although her wife did).

Everyone gathered themselves up, said their ever-so-regular goodbyes and headed for the door. Suddenly, the dark clouds thundered. Lightening started, and almost instantaneously rain poured in the form of a monsoon. Billie wasn't back yet. The guests rushed to their cars, holding things like jackets or papers over their heads. "Umm.." Violet stood awkwardly in the doorway, suddenly aware that it wasn't technically her house anymore, "bye..."

Charlie looked out into the universe beyond that doorframe and the rain was so thick, he could hardly see it. "But your aunt isn't even back yet," the both of them stood leaning against either side of the doorframe, facing each other, "you could at least stay until the rain stops." She smiled, but she didn't have anything left there, then. "I like the rain," she answered.

"At least let me give you a ride? I don't see how anyone could walk anywhere in this."

"I don't live far," she turned to walk out when he asked finally, "are you sure?"

Violet turned back to him, "I like the rain." She walked about six steps out of the door and disappeared, somewhere back in the house.

Time

The school work wasn't too hard, since they were just starting out- building a routine. The parents didn't really come too much after the first visit. A few of the kids there had their licenses, and the others had to get rides home. Violet usually just "walked" home... Sometimes Billie would come by, talk to Roger (asking if he's noticed anything weird), and speak to the ghosts. The group all together wasn't bad, they'd laugh, get to know each other, and in Charlie's case- flirt. In-between working he'd pick up his sketchbook and draw Violet. Whether he was drawing her staring into a book, laughing at something Rian said, the way she would space out, or even just the way she would look at him- he was completely infatuated.

A few weeks in, it had been an extra long day. Not much traffic, so Baley and Jensen were picked up, leaving Charlie, Violet, and the twins. It had only been a little while after their required schooling time was over, but nobody wanted to leave yet. They were laughing and joking and talking and listening. They were okay. "Where's Roger?" Violet asked, suddenly noticing it was quiet aside from them. Usually there was some sort of noise he was making. Phone calls for work, bottles clinking, yelling, snoring- something. "I don't know..." Charlie had picked up on what she had. He jogged upstairs, looking around. Avis, Rian, and Violet stood in concern. They listened to him rushing around upstairs, room to room. He'd started calling out "Roger?!"

Violet started running around downstairs, looking. She got to a back door and looked out the window in it. "Charlie!" Violet called out. She looked at the ceiling as she heard Charlie stop what he was doing and rush to her. He swung around the corner to see her looking out the window. He let out a sigh of relief. Charlie had had a previous scare with him, after his mom died, he jumped out of their top floor window, to which he was unconscious on a pile of trash bags.

"Wait.. Is he talking to somebody?" Charlie looked as he saw Roger standing in the gazebo, facing away from the house, brown hair just barely visible. Violet opened the door and ran out in panic. Her worry was clear and almost made her cry- she'd lose all of this if someone gave something away. Roger turned around smiling and stepped aside a bit.

Charlie followed Violet out and into the gazebo. Violet despised the smirk she received from this familiar brunette. "Hey kid, haven't seen you in a while," Hayden greeted her, "new boyfriend?" she nudged towards Charlie. "What? No- what are you doing here?" Violet's concern shook her voice. "Hayden has told me a lot about you," Roger was pleased by the attention that Hayden was obviously giving him too much of.

"Hey, you know who hasn't seen you in a long time either?" Hayden played coy with Violet, while Violet whispered 'no' to her, but Hayden continued, "Tate."

Violet tried to seize her by interrupting with "stop!" but she continued.

"He misses you, Violet. How long are you going to need?" Hayden always sounded threatening. She switched emotions from dangerous and pissed, to friendly as she stuck pushed Violet aside and held her hand out to Charlie. "Nice to meet you, I'm Hayden," Charlie looked at Violet with worry. "Charlie," he responded.

"Well, just came by to say hi, and if you need me just call for me, you know, being your neighbor and all," Hayden made up lies with every inhale and exhale.

Violet's eyes watered as Hayden walked around the house to the front of the lawn, out of site, and back into the house. Roger went back inside. Charlie stepped up into the gazebo as Violet faced away from him, shedding a few tears. Violet knew what was coming. "Lucy who's-" she cut Charlie off with "not right now."

He could hear she was crying a bit. As soon as she turned around, he hugged her. It barely took a second before she hugged him back, but over his shoulder, in a window of the house, she could see Tate looking out. It just made her cry even more.

When they went back into the house, she went into the bathroom. From there she invisibly went through the house, grabbed some makeup from a box of her things in the attic, and made herself look more lively and less like she was crying. When she came out of the bathroom, The twins and Charlie were talking. Rian approached Violet a bit, "hey, we're gonna hang out here tonight- since it's a Friday and all- you wanna join?"

She looked over at Charlie who was clearly also looking for an answer, and added in "Roger will be away for work." "Sure," she laughed.

Homicidal

Violet was hanging fairy lights around the gazebo and back lawn area.

Avis was getting drinks. Charlie was getting his music and Rian was phoning someone.

The Maine, High Places, Nirvana, Mirah, MGMT, and Passion Pit were playing while they sat on the gazebo floor and on the lawn, talking and laughing. After a while, Charlie kept thinking about what happened earlier that day. After a while he'd stopped talking and laughing. The over-thinking ate him. "You okay, Charlie?" Avis asked him.

It was little things that gave away the fact that Avis liked Charlie- but Charlie liked Violet. Although, Rian, also, liked Violet. Violet was pretty sure she liked Charlie (but of course she'd always liked Tate. Even after everything that happened, she couldn't just stop liking him.)

Charlie stood up and walked off into the shadowy area by the back of the house, and leaned against the brick. Violet walked over, after him. "Are you okay?" she asked, even though she had an idea what he was upset about. "Who's Tate?" he looked up at her. "It's not important, it's jus-" Violet stopped short when he started to speak over her, "if it's not important.. then why not just tell me? That girl said he misses you, are you dating?" he tried not to sound offended, but he clearly was.

"We're not, we were, we're not now though. That's it, that's all," Violet didn't want Tate to ruin another thing for her. "Well what did she mean by 'how long is it going to take'?" Charlie watched as Violet looked around at the ground, as she did when she was trying to process things.

"Look, it's not important! I like you, okay?" she said it and then just looked at him. All he knew was that he liked her, that was more than him considering that she could have liked him. In the distant light from the fairy lights, in the autumn air and sweater weather, on that day as odd as any other, he kissed her.

She was dead, her heart wasn't beating, her hands were cold from the weather, but the rest of her was warm. After a few minutes, they returned to the twins, who were probably talking about what just happened. A car pulled up in the front of the house, with rap music blaring. "Be right back!" Rian called to them happily as he ran off. A little bit later, he came back carrying something, and they could hear the car tires squeal and drive off. "Mushrooms anyone?" Rian set the plate in the middle of the gazebo floor. The four of them laughed as Rian explained, "I thought we could use a bit of a mood lightener."

With everything happening, them twirling around the open space in the yard, running after each other, playing tag, the laugher- all that laughter, it brought them closer. Tate watched them from the window and with every smile they had, with every moment they shared, it just made him more furious. He couldn't deny his instincts. You die with the ones you had before you did.

Rian grabbed Violet's hand and led her under the gazebo- Charlie was inside getting more drinks, Avis was laying on the lawn, watching how the trees and the stars moved. Even with everything shifting, and colours everywhere, he managed to place his hands perfectly on her cheeks and pull her closer to kiss her. It was that instant that infuriated Tate enough to push him. ~Twisted Nerve, Bernard Herrman~. That familiar urge. His body tensed as his footsteps almost broke the floors, quickly ripping off a bannister beam, going through the kitchen he turned Charlie around and stabbed him in the stomach. Violet had put her hands on Rian's chest and pushed him back a bit, apologising. She liked Charlie... She liked Tate.

Avis had seen Tate through the window and backed into the shadows. "Hey, who're you-?" Rian took a few steps in his direction on the gazebo. Nothing had stopped Tate from his heavy pace. "Tate! No!" Violet's voice shrieked and her tears were instantaneous like a waterfall of tears and blood. Tate bashed Rian's head with the beam and then continued to stab it into his throat as soon as he was on the ground. "No!" she screamed as Tate heard Avis call out "Dorian!"

Tate faced him, disappeared, and reappeared right in front of him. Violet went to him, and blocked Tate's hit with herself. "Violet!" his innocence now came out, "Violet no! Not again, no no no no no no no, Violet, I'm sorry- I'm so sorry," Tate started crying his usual way. He tried to grab her, but she pushed him away with her last bit of strength.

She fell to the ground, the blood pouring from her chest. He grabbed her and carried her over to the gazebo before collapsing. He sat against the wooden sides, holding her head in his lap. He stroked her hair while crying. "Tate," she whispered, her brown eyes going cold and still, "please, Tate. Let me die, Tate" she was now balling her eyes out, begging him, "let me go," she finally whispered as she disappeared.

To Be Continued

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