Part I


"Fallen for a guy, fell down from the sky

Halo round his head, feathers in a bed

In our bed, in our bed...

Asked if I would try to leave this all behind

Halo round his head, feathers in a bed

In our bed, in our bed...

It's sacrilege, sacrilege, sacrilege, you say

And I plead and I pray..."

— Sacrilege, Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs


She loves the pain that she causes him. It was exhilarating, making her smile. Despite everything she did, he would come back. He always did. She never doubted it, not a second. Because the reason people hurt the ones they love is because they expect them to forgive them. Take her mother as an example.

Vivien kept on forgiving Ben for all that crap he put her through. The lack of support after the miscarriage, the affair with his 22-year-old student that resulted in a pregnancy that he lied about, burying that said dead mistress in the backyard, the accusations of her having an affair, and so much more bullshit.

Violet would also make a perfect example. About her and Tate. All the suffering that he has caused her and she has forgiven him, although she was never going to let him find out about that. He deserved to suffer. Because she cares about him, she's in love with that psychopath. And that's something worth punishing him over.

She never stopped loving, she couldn't and probably wouldn't. There's something wrong with her for loving him, despite everything. She thinks about what was that made her fall in love with him. That got her hooked to him, like a drug addict in need for their heroine.

He was different, Tate was like her, Violet thought when she met him. He understood her like no one else. He hated high school, just like her. He liked watching the leaves fall from trees, just like her. He was strange, didn't fit in, just like her. He would cut himself, just like her. She thought that he liked the darkness, like her. Not only that, she thought he was cute, handsome even, with his curly blonde hair, grunge clothing, twisted personality, smoky voice and charming smile. He was the epitome of a boyfriend she always wanted.

Every time she would see him, her stomach would tighten as if she was going down a roller coaster. That wasn't the only place that got affected, her brain, her heart, her woman parts. They would all react when they saw or even thought about him. Those feelings, infatuation, lust, were new for her.

It was embarrassing to a point that she would check all the time her room if he appeared out of nowhere like would do sometimes (she didn't know how he did it). But then those feelings became less embarrassing when it became clear that he felt the same way about her.

The giddiness that went through when she overheard (more like eavesdropped) when he was talking to her dad, who was his psychiatrist at the time, about this girl he met, that he thought about her when he was touching himself and wondered how she would feel, that she was amazing. He doesn't want to ruin his chances with her because she's different.

Her heart started racing, making her chest hurt. She didn't know what to do. The thought of being in love, made her want to scream and pull her hair out. Out of how excited and terrified she felt.

But that was a long time ago. She still felt those emotions, but there's also pain, confusion, and anger. Lots of anger, that made her pull her hair from the roots, drag her nails over her face, making her bleed. It hurt like a bitch, but it was a torment that she had control over at least. The rest of it is controlled by that fucking psycho that she use to call her boyfriend.

It was always the same. She hated him. She loved him. She hated him. She loved him. It was a fucking cycle. Everything in this god damn house was a never-ending cycle. She hated that too. This was going to last forever. She wasn't able to leave it. She can't move from the depression, from the darkness of the house, from him. From these emotions that she felt for him; the good and bad.

There's nobody else she can compare him to. He was her first everything. Crush, kiss, boyfriend, best friend, confidant, sexual partner, heartbreak. At times, she was thankful for some but the others made her want to slit her throat.

There were times when it all became too much, Violet would sit in the tub, the one where she died. Where Tate tried to save her but ultimately failed. She died crying but loved, that's what he told her. It was a nice way of dying, she thought at times, with the one you loved, trying to make everything better.

She doesn't remember much what happened after she died, but she hasn't really tried to make the effort to remember. She feared it, though Violet didn't know what exactly she feared. She's dead, it happened. No point of crying over spilled milk would say Moira to her when she would find her crying about her death or other aspects of her life. All she wanted was to feel alive. How ironic.

If she would have known that she would have gotten herself in this situation when she committed suicide, she would have had seconds. But all she could think about that moment was how sick she was sick of being alive. That stupidity bit her from behind... harshly. But now sitting in this stupid tub, she realized that maybe she's afraid to remember because he was there, trying to save her, to make sure she didn't end up in the house, even if it gave him a chance for them to be together forever. He was being selfless, caring. Not the monster she portrays him as.

She felt a hysterical sob escape her, the irony, about that. Of everything between the two of them. When the first time they met, his first words to her was that she was doing it wrong. That if she wanted to kill herself, she should do it vertically so they won't be able to stitch it up. He was giving her tips how to kill herself. Next thing you know, he is dragging her, begging her not to die. Trying to do anything in his power to save her life. Funny how things change.

Violet, squeezed her eyes, trying to stop from tears of falling, breathing heavily. This isn't working, she screamed inside her head, I need something else. Quickly, she got out of the tub and ran to her room.

She needed a release, desperately, this house was suffocating her and none of her usual methods were helping. Violet had finished all her cigarettes, leaving her anxious. The tub had just made her feel suffocated and melancholic. What was she supposed to do without her release?

The others inhabitants in this house would use sex or killing other ghosts as an escape but Violet didn't have that alternative (she did but Violet would pretend that she didn't for various reasons), so she settled on the one she knew the best. Making perfect lines in her skin with a blade, her specialty. She grabbed her razor blade and pressed it against her skin, not drawing blood.

Violet hasn't cut herself since Tate walked into the bathroom and caught her doing that. It was a few days after her 'failed attempt' suicide when she thought she still alive. He made her promise to stop because it was disgusting. Violet was surprised at his anger but happy that he worried. It showed that he loved her. That happened about six years ago. But now she didn't give a fuck about that promise she made so long ago to him. She didn't know why she kept it when he broke many of his promises.

Technically Violet had not cut herself in the wrists but she has drawn blood from herself. At times when she was bored or saw Tate, she would go to her bathtub and cut her throat, dying in her blood. It was sort of like her power nap, it gave her more energy when she would wake up.

She didn't always do it in the bathtub, sometimes when she was too distraught to think straight, she would just do it her room, grab the sharpest object and shove it to her throat. Fall to the ground and then wake up, going to the bathroom to repeat the ritual, this time properly.

Violet started cutting herself, in her room, his room, their room. She had just finished slicing three perfect lines in her left wrist when she was going to start the same ritual in her right wrist when she felt someone take the razor.

Her first thought was that it was Chad, who was always repulsed by her fascination of drawing blood from herself or others, to scold her for staining the carpet, even if it was a fashion crime. Violet turned around to see that it was Tate, who looked angry. She opened her mouth to yell at him to leave her alone but nothing came out. She was paralyzed.

"Don't do that. Don't hurt yourself," his voice came out strained as if he was controlling himself from yelling. He gave her a sad and disappointed look before he disappeared, not allowing her to react. Violet seem to finally function again.

"Wait," she whispered to nothing, at the spot where Tate was. He had left, as fast as he had appeared.

Leaving her completely confuse, what had just happened? How can he do that? Affect her like that? Leave her all confused and upset? Tears were falling. She was crying, about what? Him, how despite everything, even if she is already dead, he doesn't want her to get hurt.

A part of her, the girl who was in loved with him, that loved getting flowers and being hugged from him, was happy that he wanted to protect her. Her naïve self that didn't know about his monstrosity. Her other part, the one that knew the truth, is outraged. That he was telling her to get to do. And disappearing, not letting her do anything

This wasn't supposed to be her life. She is supposed to be an adult, who graduated from college with a job, maybe as a writer or a painter, living alone in a crappy apartment, independent person.

Instead, she's still a depressed and suicidal seventeen-year-old ghost, that is stuck in a house with other fucked up ghosts, that included her parents, his father's mistress, and her psychopath ex-boyfriend that she still was in love with and more deranged ghosts that roamed around, drowning in self-pity. Her life was a terrible joke. She couldn't escape them, especially him. He was always going to be there.

That made Violet want to teach him a lesson in the worst kind of way. To make him suffer. Be in pain all the time, that way she will feel less guilty when she finally decides to be with him after all that he has done.

Although she didn't exactly know how to make him suffer, besides ignoring him. She would need to get creative, like him. It would only be fair. That's how it was between them. One of them had to pay for the other crimes. This time, it will be him.

Violet was in one of the many guest rooms this house had, with Chad. Sometimes, she would spend all day with him. Violet liked Chad, she really did. He was fun, sarcastic, a little bitter but no one can blame him, always had something to say, and loved to drink. They got along despite their age different (at times it felt like she was the older one of the two). Chad made her laugh, he made her days interesting. There was this charisma about him that she loved. He was the perfect best friend that happens to be gay.

Who she would sometimes use to anger Tate. Violet knew that it pissed him off that she rather spend time with that gay drama queen (his words; Tate was a bit of a homophobic she had come to discover) than him or anyone else in this house. It made him rabid, she could hear him kick and scream when she was with Chad.

At times, she would feel guilty about using Chad for her childish game but then she remembered Tate in agony because of her and she would drown the guilt with alcohol and Chad, smiling and forgetting.

Violet did end up telling Chad and was scared on how he would react. Instead of getting angry, he started laughing, doubling over, saying that she could use him as Nora is crying over her baby (which is all the time), as long that demented psycho suffers. That lifted a small weight from her and made things a bit easier for her, although she had that nagging feeling of remorse.

When Violet and Chad were together, they always had a bottle of alcohol that she would steal from the current owners of the house. Today, it was a small bottle of vodka with a label that looked Russian. It tasted like vinegar and smelled like lemon, burning her throat horribly but it gave Violet a buzz that she liked, so she continued drinking. After a while, she stopped tasting it, just felt the burn as it went down. Chad wasn't being like her, he would take small sips from a wine glass, grimacing and complaining that the owners need to be educated on getting good alcohol.

They were alcoholics that spent most of their time complaining and criticizing who had no problem with that.

"There he goes," muttered Patrick, taking a sip of vodka, looking at something outside the room. "Pathetic jackass that has his head in his ass like a hat."

"Who?" Although Violet had an idea who he was talking about. Smiling, she went for her wine glass and took a gulp, finishing it. She was on the floor flipping through magazines with Chad, seeing what was trending in the fashion world. A popular trend was anorexia and no shame.

"Patrick, who else thinks his ass is an accessory?"

"You?" Violet laughed. Chad faked laugh before hitting her with a pillow.

"Honey, my ass is perfect that you wished you had." He modeled for her, resulting for Violet to flip him off. "Such a pathetic cocksucker. I mean he is a literal one," he chuckled at his own joke.

Violet rolled her eyes at her friend's sardonic comment. "Didn't you already know that. I mean you guys were on a brink of separation because of infidelity. But why are you saying that now? Is he doing something wrong?"

Chad glanced at her with a sympathetic look. "Oh sweetie, how young and innocent you are," he paused looking thoughtful as if he was remembering a dirty secret, "Well not that innocent. You lost your innocence to a psychopath."

Violet, feeling all of a sudden awkward, with cheeks on fire, glared at him. "I thought we were talking about Chad, not about my loss of innocence to he who is not here."

She cringed mentally, realizing how stupid she sounded and reached for Chad's glass, motioning him to continue talking, hoping that would distract him from her terrible answer.

Lucky, Chad just gave her a knowing look, no lecture. "Touchy much darling? But all right, let's talk about my cocksucker of a husband sucking the penis of the shrink of this house."

Violet, choked on the vodka. Her throat was on fire. Stupid owners and their shitty alcohol. She whipped her head to look at Chad, who was casually checking his nails as if it what he told her was not a big deal. She stared at him with wide eyes, Bambi eyes Chad called them, "What the fuck did you just say?"

Chad looked surprised, that was suspiciously feigned. "Oh, you didn't know? My bad. But now that I said it, why leave you hanging. That would be cruel of me. And you are my best friend," he reminded a Violet that looked like she was about to throw up or pass out, maybe both, but Patrick didn't seem to notice her. He was too enthralled in his horror story.

"You see my dear, your father has been having private sessions with my husband. He's been 'treating him'. Well, actually Chad has been treating him. If you know what I mean," he snorted.

"Wait—What?! Are you implying—? No! That can't be... No! That's bullshit!" she stuttered, not being able to process that her father was getting blown by Patrick, a guy. What the hell? If it was Hayden, she wouldn't be that surprised, he had fucked her when they were alive, why not when they're dead? But by Patrick? What was wrong with her dad? That was just too much! She didn't know her dad was into guys.

Chad smiled wickedly, looking pleased with himself, and in that second it came to her that bastard had planned all of this. What the hell was wrong with the people in this house with the love of chaos?

Getting comfortable in the bed, Chad gave her a half-smile. "No, it's not bullshit. It's the truth. I wasn't surprised when I found out. Patrick just loves sucking cocks. If he could he would suck his own, but he can't. I know because one day I walked into him trying. It was so pathetic, that I took mercy and did it for him that day—"

"Chad! Focus!" she snapped, not having the patience to deal with his disgusting side stories.

"Anyways, I'm getting off track. As I was saying, I was although little thrown off by Ben but then I thought about. Stuck in a house, for eternity with a resentful wife for having an affair with a 21-year-old student of his—"

"Twenty-two," Violet corrected him, not being able to help herself.

Chad give her a Are you fucking kidding me? look, before going on. "A twenty-two-year-old who is also stuck in this house, and having an eternal crying baby and a depressed teenage daughter, that's you, by the way, it's obvious he is going to be sexually frustrated, and doubt Vivien is going to help that boner. That is where cock sucking Patrick comes, who is always willing to help out if it includes cocks."

Violet was trying not to hyperventilate during the entire time he spoke. Seriously, what's wrong with the people in this house? She was so angry at her dad. Why would he do this to her mom? Does her mom know about this?

"Does my mom? How did you find out? Did you walk in them? How are you not disturb about this? Why are you telling me this?" She couldn't stop talking.

"Well, I don't know about Vivien, but I'm guessing she probably does know. Her husband alone with a gay cock sucker for an hour every day, I think she knows," Patrick said sarcastically, drinking the entire vodka in one gulp. "I'm not horrified because it's not my father that is getting blown. But I didn't walk into them. It was your old lover that did."

"Tate?" Violet felt her body tense up again, always when he was mention.

Chad looked at her with pity. "Yes. I guess he had a session with your father, to try to fix his craziness but came too early and saw the entire thing blow." He smiled again. Another stupid pun.

Violet was getting irritated at Chad jokes. He didn't look that bothered by finding out about Patrick's and her dad arrangement, blow and go. She wondered of Tate told him. Why hasn't he told her?

Does it matter? said a snide voice.

No, it doesn't. Nothing matters with him.

Exactly. When it comes to him, nothing matters because you forget about everything. The good and the bad.

That's not true, she denied herself. She focuses on who he is, the caring boyfriend who is homicidal.

Chad had watched carefully, with narrowed eyes. "Sorry to interrupt, what looks like a very heartwarming conversation with yourself. That was not creepy at all. But why are you playing this game, sweetie? We all know that you still love that little psycho. So why don't you get over your pride, and kiss and makeup or fuck cause you need to get laid? You're too tense. You're dead, try to move on as much as you can."

"It's complicated."

Violet wanted a cigarette right now. More than anything. She didn't want to talk about Tate. There was nothing to talk about except there was, according to Chad. She was cornered by Chad the Cougar, vicious when he found a prey. He was the most persistent person, especially when it came to Tate, he found him fascinating, even if he was his murderer.

"Carrie Bradshaw relationship with Mr. Big is complicated. Yours and Mini Bates, it's just the forgiving. Easy."

"No, it's not. And who the hell is Carrie something and Mr. Big?"

Chad opened his mouth to answer but Violet silenced him with her hand. "It was rhetorical. I honestly don't care."

"Fine, explain then. Tell me your Shakespearean tragedy. The ball is in your court. The stage is yours." He pushed her towards the 'stage'. She stumbled to the empty space and glared at him. She knew this was stupid, but decided to go along with it. She had nothing to lose.

"How would feel if Patrick murdered 15 people, that were around your age? That have done nothing to you? That he raped your mom? Impregnated her and got her killed because of that? That he lied to you about who he was. Lied about everything. And that what he said about you could have been lies," Violet exploded in the end, slowly her anger was building until she went off. It has been a long time since she ranted about Tate, actually maybe the first time to someone.

Chad in the other hand was calm and thinking over what she had thrown at him. He was nodding to himself, mouthing something.

"Okay. I'm ready to counterattack. Well, for starters, I would be shocked about having the sex with a woman because Patrick loves the D, not the V. Even if he claimed being straight in high school, it's highly unlikely. But if it did happen, well I would be happy because that means we get a baby. I mean, do you remember why we killed your dad? Then about murder, Patrick can't even kill a spider, don't let looks fool you. He is such a..." he continued insulting his husband but she didn't hear anything.

Violet was focusing on what he just said. Chad killed her dad, he hanged him with the other ghosts. They planned, and succeeded, to kill her father and her brother. And he had terrorized her mother on Halloween, trashed their things and insulted her.

She still talks to Chad, after all, he has done, but it was him who told her about Tate. Who he really was. That's one of the reasons she still talks to him. This is why she doesn't talk about her problems, every time an ugly revelation comes out, making Violet realize that Tate isn't the only monster in this house. They were all monster. Hypocrites.

"Ahhhh!" a piercing screech came from downstairs, interrupting both of them, Chad from his complaining and Violet from her epiphany.

"Holly shit, murder," Chad said tediously. He looked weary as if that happened all the time, which is half-true. It hasn't happened lately, through. Their local murderer had retired.

They hear the scream again, it was coming from downstairs. Curiosity killing the cat, Violet got out the room and looks down the stairs to see what happened.

"What do you thinks is happening?" she asked. "Chad!"

He popped his head out. "Who knows? Who cares? It's probably someone getting killed."

"Don't you care?" Violet asked him. Something fascinating is finally happening (probably is a homicide but at least is something) and he doesn't care. He's always complaining how boring it is to be in this house. And someone is finally screaming bloody murder, literally. His reaction? Who cares.

"As long it's not someone who Patrick can do, I don't fucking care. Stop being so noisy," he chastised her. Violet gave him a disbelieving look. Patrick just shrugged and retreated back to the room.

Fucking prick, she thought. He's my friend but he really needs to stop caring only what happens to him. Or maybe I'm just nosy.

The scream appeared, again and again, each time sounding more painful than the previous. Oh god, it better not be a new victim, Violet thought miserably. She was sick of these ghosts and add a new one; this wasn't a fucking cemetery. Violet stood still listening, hoping to find out who it was.

"... fucking psychopath!" screeched the familiar screechy voice of a woman.

Holy crap, it's Hayden, Violet realized, surprised and pleased that it was one of the ghosts, especially it was that dumb skank. Hayden was screaming something to someone, her attacker.

Violet suddenly stop caring when she realized it was that bitch. Hayden probably irritated someone by continued offering to give them a hand job or something like that. Good, she deserves it, Violet smiled wickedly. If there was anybody that hated Hayden more than anything it was Violet.

She started walking back to the room to tell Chad about the good news (he didn't like her either) when she heard Hayden scream again, this time "...You asshole! You fucking asshole! You're going to pay for this Tate!"

Violet froze midway. What the fuck? She wiped her head and ran to leaned against the banister to hear what was going. Did she hear correctly? Did Hayden just scream Tate's name? What the hell is happening?

Now Violet interest spiked. Seconds passed, no more screaming or any kind of noise was heard. Only the usual silence. Fuck. She ran back to the room.

Chad, hearing her, looked up from the magazine that she was previously flipping through. "What's up buttercup? What did you find out in your mission impossible?"

"Did you hear? It was Hayden. She screamed Tate's name. He did something to her."

Chad grinned broadly. "Really? It was that bitch? How fucking amazing. God, I wonder how much pain she is in?"

"Are you not listening to me? Hayden said Tate's name? What the hell?"

Chad frowned. "I didn't hear that part or anything. Just heard screaming. Painful screams."

"Why would she say Tate's name? What did she do to him? Should we check?" Violet wondered. Chad stared at her intently making Violet got defensive. "What?"

"It was Hayden howling in pain and you're more worried about Ted Bundy? Who was probably the one to cause her to scream like that? Do you hear yourself? The girl who claims to hate him."

"Well, she obviously did something to make him do that? And we don't know he did anything. She just screamed you're going to pay for this Tate. I don't get what he was doing with her."

"Maybe it's just in your mind. Unconsciously, you're imagining him everywhere, even him maybe killing Hayden because you miss him. I'm no expert in this, like your shrink case of a father, but isn't this a sign that you are ready to forgive Bates Junior? Your mind is pushing towards him?" Chad looked proud of himself as if just found the cure for schizophrenia when he hadn't even helped her at all.

Violet disagreed, with almost all that he said because she was not imagining him, Hayden did say Tate's name and she already forgave Tate a while ago. It's just a matter of time when she was going to let him know. She wanted to say all of that but instead, surprising herself with what she said next.

"Whatever. I'm going to find out what happen." Violet disappeared to the basement, not hearing Chad's opinion.

It was dark, so she couldn't see anything. But it was clear that no one was here. So whatever happened here finished. It smelled funny, something fresh. She didn't know what it was. It did make her walk carefully, not sure what to expect. In one step she slipped and fell on her butt.

"Fuck!" she cried out. Violet felt something sticky and wet in her palms, she ran her hands down the floor, that was soaking wet with something warm and sticky. She got up as quickly as she could, slipping a little in the process and disappeared to the bathroom. When she got in the light, she found out what that her hands were covered in blood. She slipped in blood, there was lots of blood on the floor. All over the place. She went to the sink and washed off the blood that could be Hayden's, that Tate might have drawn.

What was she doing? Who cares what happened? It wasn't as if she is worried what happened to Hayden. She wasn't going to bother to investigate but when she heard his name, she found herself being drawn. Like a moth to the flame. She wanted to be near him. A necessity that was overwhelming.

Before she didn't want to be near him and now she is looking for him. She ignored him. Made him stay away. It lasted for a long time. And then she stopped. Time passed, she wasn't sure how much, probably years or just maybe months, and she had stopped sending him away, not bothering to do it. Slowly, Violet let him come closer. She guessed that she started letting him break the walls that she build around him. He was always around, he never bothered her, just was there, never in the same room but close enough.

Violet wants to blame the loneliness that caused her to do let him back in. But she can't, Violet has her parents, her baby brother, and Chad, one his victims. She was always doing something with them. Taking care of her brother, or talking with Chad or reading. It wasn't enough, nothing was ever enough for her. There was something missing, a hollow space inside of her, that was consuming her. Violet would pretend she didn't know what it was but she was lying to herself.

She wants him to stop loving her. To hate her, for ignoring him. Abandoning him when she promised she wouldn't do that. But he doesn't, no matter what she does to him. They're both the same. No matter what they do to each other, they will still be in love with each other. It's a cycle. And they have forever. It doesn't sound that bad. Others have it worse, like Chad and Patrick. Or Nora and Charles. But Tate and Violet are different, unique in their own way.

Tate would say they're kinda like Romeo and Juliet or Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love. Maybe even Bonnie and Clyde, if you want Violet. Badasses until their death. All those tragic lovers, just like them. But she didn't want to be like them. She just wanted them to be Tate and Violet, that would listen to music and play card games. No one else, she liked how they were before when it was just about the two of them.

Becoming more determined than before, she finished quickly cleaning herself and got out of the bathroom. Hearing a ball rolling in the attic, she realized that he might be there with his brother. She looked up, breathing deeply. It's finally happening, the moment she has prolonged. You're going to make him pay and then you're going be happy.

Or so that's what she hoped.

When she finds him, his curled up in the corner of the attic, rocking back and forth. He has a troubled look and notices that he has blood on him. Probably Hayden's. A little in his hair, on his hands and jeans. She smiles slightly at the sight. It was pathetic but it made her heart beat fast, made her feel as she was still alive, and not a dead ghost. She loved him for that. He doesn't show any signs that he knows she's there but he probably does. Violet steps forward and calls him:

"Tate."

He didn't look up. He kept rocking back and forward, stuck in a trance, not looking at her. She sighed impatiently, a bit irritated at his state, and crouched down. He stopped moving when he felt her presence but didn't look at her.

Something was wrong with him. It bothered her, not knowing what had him like that. Not being able to do something. She blinked when she realized what was going inside of her, that made her stomach churn. She loved him and watching him like this caused her pain.

Violet took a deep breath, trying to remember why she came here. She's trying to remember but all she keeps thinking about is that people always forgive the one's that hurt them because they love them.

Don't try denying it, whispered the voice inside her head, you have also hurt him and he has forgiven you. You have forgiving other people you loved that hurt you. Your dad, your mom. What makes him different?

She nodded to the voice. Both of them were the same. What made her think she was better than him, or anybody in this house. Everybody here was equally fucked up. Affairs, murder, rape, drugs, abortion, self-mutilation. They were all sick people who are stuck here in eternity with their flaws. They weren't going to change. The only thing they could do is accept and look past them. Vivien did that, Chad did that, Moira did that. All those people who had been wronged by someone they loved.

Why couldn't she do the same? What did she have to lose?

"Look at me," she ordered him. Violet went down on her knees and cradled Tate's face. He looked at her, his black eyes staring at her with a mixture of sadness and fear. The same look he had before she made hell for both.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. Afraid he was gone, there was no going back to them. But she doubts it. He will come back to her, he always did.


End of Part I


If you got here till the bottom, I've got a few things to say:

First of all, thank you so much for reading my first attempt at fanfiction. I've been wanting to do this for a long time but haven't made a story that I liked enough to publish. I feel it was a bold move to choose AHS is my first fic cause it's so intense and dark (that's why I love it) but I tried. And I'm proud.

And I would appreciate if you guys let me know what you think. Did you like it, love it, hate it or didn't get it? I would appreciate any comments. Favoriting will do if you don't comment. Or you can follow. I'm flexible.

If you liked this, as it's shown in the end and in the beginning, there's going to be a part 2, told from our adorable (but a little psychotic) Tate point of view. Some of your questions from this one will hopefully be answered. If not a can help you.

I'm currently working on Tate's. I got a lot done, the basic ideas, little choppy but I'm not sure when I'm going to post it. There's so much to fix.