The drive from Boston to L.A. was pitiful for Violet as she was blasting old Nirvana classics in her headphones in a sad attempt of trying to successfully block out the heated tension in the car. she can hear her parents mutter malice phrases under their breaths. She hears her father call her mother a frigid bitch, maybe it was only meant in a way that would make her realize how rash she was being.

Yeah, right.

In Violet's opinion, she had no choice of actually taking her mother's side for once. even though her father had put them through hell, she couldn't bring herself to hold that straight face when saying the words "I love you." when he said it in passing. She said it in a returning question, with a look that clearly read "Do I?" Ben of course would smile that phony smile of his like everything was 'A okay' in his fantasy world he was obviously living in to be that dense in actually seeing no one in this incompetent family could show him the real meaning of the word love. He betrayed the family in such a way that even God himself couldn't forgive.

It was after the miscarriage weeks before the affair came to the surface. Before everything, Vivien used to be a strong independent woman who Violet undoubtedly admired. She would cook, clean, grocery shop, and still have time to help out with Violet's homework before going back to doing whatever it was she did when Violet was at school. When she got pregnant again, all seemed to be going perfect for the family expecting a new addition. Ben was home more and decided to move his psychiatrist office to his study in order to help out Vivien.

That was his first mistake and Violet didn't see the red flags.

Months went on and the gender of the baby was revealed to be a boy. Mason Alexander was going to be his name and the family couldn't be happier with the news. Vivien was still as hardworking as ever, being six months pregnant she was glowing with life and loved every minute of it. That's when everything the Harmon family knew of true happiness stopped and came crashing down. It was Vivien's seventh month pregnant when she felt blood pool down her legs and the piercing pain in her stomach. Ben drove her to the hospital and Violet was stroking her mother's sweaty forehead in an unsuccessful manner of calming her. Grunts of agony filled everyone with a harsh realization something was terribly wrong. Violet was whispering words of comfort in her mother's ear as Vivien shoved her back harshly against the seat, staring at her with hatred that seemed to burn. Violet was never the same after that. Happiness doesn't last forever.

Later the family found out the baby had passed, unsure as to how or why, the cause of death was deemed undetermined because Vivien had done everything a mother expecting would do, and then some. It was decided the Harmons would host a Macabre funeral for him, and no one would ever forget the look of that baby coffin getting lowered into the ground as everything around them was cold and still, the putrid smell of death frozen from the air lingering against the stale reality would plaque Violet's mind. Death was a slap in the face and it was always constant.

Vivien had turned to alcohol and abuse towards her child as Ben had turned to infidelity and the other cheek with no remorse. Violet had turned to her new affair with a razor blade and the stinging pain of the bruises and welts that laced her skin with reminders she was now her mother's vicious play thing. It was more or less like a fucked up family photo. Each had a smile as fake as the last, the bruises were hidden, and the cuts were covered, and the love each member of the family had been either non-existent or fake.

Violet remembers the girl's name who her father had cheated on her mother with, the very same name that brings ice to her veins and tears to her eyes. Blood rushes to old wounds begging to be re-opened with the tip of a new blade every time she thinks of the whore who fucked her father.

Hayden McClain.

She wasn't much older than Violet, Hayden give or take had just turned eighteen, shy of Violet's seventeenth birthday. Her father would consistently avoid her name when it came up from her mother asking if she was as troubled as the rest of who saw him. Ben of course couldn't answer that because there was some confidentiality in the job of which he was so eager to keep. Not much, if he really couldn't keep who he was doing in his pants only. The affair as Violet rethought it was painfully noticeable. She often saw him answering texts frequently under the initials H.M. Violet wasn't snooping through her fathers stuff to catch him, but she wasn't stupid either, she knew how to work things and be sneaky when it came to dinner and he was so absent minded she could act as if she was getting another side dish to scoop on her plate.

It was almost as if Vivien knew what he was doing by the way her eyes would pierce into his skull like a dagger to his cold black still beating heart. She wasn't as bad of a drunk then, but she was damn near close to being one at that point, due to everything hitting her at once. She wasn't as abusive to Violet much then either as she recalls. Sure, she would be snide if Violet didn't do as told. A chore or two. She would always be condescending in a way Ben would usually look passed. It was almost like a game of tests for him. Which he always seemed to fail at that.

As the Harmons pulled into a castle-like Victorian home, Violet silently approved of her father's choice. She looked to the realtor out of the window and felt as if she was hiding something just from the unsure look in her eyes and that all to well known fake smile on her over glossed lips.

Just like that they exited the car, forcing smiles on their faces and Ben held his wife with a false adoration as he kissed her cheek. Violet was dragging her dirty conversed feet to join her parents in the same false bravado. Although hers was like a mask, you could easily see through it to the pain she lived, and what she was forced into.

"Hello, I am Ben Harmon." she heard her father say in his 'professional voice.' "This is my lovely wife Vivien, and my daughter Violet." She could have snorted at how fucking fake he sounded, The realtor gave a look that was rather uncaring as she extended her hand to the three.

"Marcy Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you all. Now, if you will come with me, we can get started."

Violet felt the cold air gush towards her as she entered the house. She shivered hugging her cardigan to her body.

Something was definitely up with this house, and she was going to find out, even if it killed her.