"I would never let anybody, or anything, hurt you."
He'd said that, her twisted prince. She'd never been the type to fantasise about a man with the surname of Charming, or to dress up in puffy dresses with ghastly frills blooming from them like sour meringues; she'd never cared for Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, and she definitely hadn't planned on holding out for some guy in tights and a crown to save her. In fact, with the devils in her basement, the murderous intruders and chilling unwanted houseguests, Violet was certain her life was the complete opposite of a fairytale, if anything. Good. She didn't buy into any dream life bullshit anyway.
But then she'd fallen in love with a boy. A dead boy, at that. Typical, she'd thought - Violet Harmon and her dead boyfriend; what else could it have been? Yet this, once again, was no fairytale. This dead boy was a doer of bad deeds indeed; things that struck icy fear into the heart of anyone who'd read about it in the newspapers; things that she herself wished were lies. By the time she'd discovered this, however, there was no hope for her. She was trapped in his spiders' web of horrors, and had been for a long time. She was his, and he was hers. It was irrevocable, terrible, true; no matter how hard her head scolded her heart for being a silly girl, a ridiculous Juliet princess from the movies she'd always despised, she couldn't deny it. She was clutched tightly in his sinner's grasp and couldn't squeeze her way out. It was a fact, something that couldn't be changed or erased.
"I would never let anybody, or anything, hurt you."
How was she to know that, after all the moments and kisses they'd shared, it was he who was hurting her all along? He had protected her from everyone and everything, except for what was to eventually be her downfall: himself. Her dead boyfriend was now her ghastly monster; her mother's rapist. She could shut her eyes and pretend he hadn't done wrong before, but the truth couldn't be ignored. Flicking its forked tongue at her ear, poisoning her mind with its whispered nightmares, it couldn't be escaped. The devil that Leah had cried about, the beautiful killer, the fallen angel - it was him. It was always him.
She had but only a few words to say.
Three were born from blissful ignorance, teenage naivety. The others were full of risk and rage and terror.
Now was the time to say them. Staring hard into his wicked eyes, she reached out a hand to stroke his cheek. If it was her last chance to say it, she'd better say it well.
"I love you."
Watching his face light up like a child on Christmas morning nearly brought about her death all over again, but she couldn't back down now. Wherever her mother was, Violet knew she was watching. And as her daughter, she had to do her proud. "But I can't forgive you."
The hope flooded from his face. She began to yell, and he began to yell back. Distancing herself from him, she clamped her eyes closed with such force that she saw stars. But she was ready, at last, to say her final words to him. To her beloved psychopath; her handsome devil.
"GO AWAY, TATE!"
Their screaming was deafening now, the breaking of his heart tangible, but she couldn't stop. She wouldn't.
"GO AWAY!"