It had been a few days, with no sign of Tate. She had broken things in fits of anger, sobbed in fits of sadness and hurt. She sat silently on her bed every day, refusing to leave the house lest he come back. The look in his eyes as he disappeared was seared onto her cornea's. Every time she closed her eyes it burned like a bad set of pink eye. She couldn't get rid of it, couldn't sleep. She hadn't gone to school since it happened either. What was the point?

She wandered slowly down the stairs, her knit sweater tucked loosely below her crossed arms. She was shaking, but didn't know why. She wasn't cold. Not physically, anyway. She found herself at the door to the basement, standing there, staring. No one else was home, but that didn't stop her from feeling reluctant to venture down those stairs. What if he wasn't there? What if someone or something else was? She sucked in a deep breathe, her hand on the handle, and threw the door open. She stood there, not making a sound, feeling like a frightened three year old. "Fuck Violet, just do it. What's the worst that could happen?" Her right foot extended, taking the first step into the murky basement. She hadn't gone down there since he'd disappeared. She couldn't bring herself to. She feared she'd see his mutilated body, bleeding and crying. Or something. She really wasn't sure what it was that she was afraid of. But she finally brought herself to do it.

Halfway down the stairs she heard movement from the dark depths of the cold, dank place. "Tate?" She called out quietly, shivers making their way across her skin. "Tate, seriously, stop hiding." A shadow emerged from the darkness, a woman dressed in white.

"There is no Tate, that you speak of. He hasn't been around for a few days. Better not have taken off, he owes me a favour." The woman was young, but had such bitterness in her voice. Her skin was burned and flaky.

Violet closed her eyes. "Do you know where he could have gone?" Her fingernails dug into her arms, where they rested, still crossed.

The woman laughed. "I thought no one left this house. Where he could have gone? I don't know, but do tell me if you find out, I'd like to leave this vile place as well."

With that she disappeared, and Violet opened her eyes to nothing. She fell to the stairs, arms hugging her knees, as tears poured down her face.

The bath water was searing hot, steam rising from the white tub. She wanted to feel something, anything, other than this hurt and emptiness that had been her reality since he left. She stepped into the water, the burn sending goosebumps through her. She closed her eyes, tears welling up, as she sunk into the water, which poured over the edge of the tub. Resting her head against the lip of the tub she closed her eyes, feeling herself get pulled further and further away from reality. Everything she thought she'd known wasn't true, and everything she let her mind accept was turning out to be fake as well. What could she possibly make of all this?

She felt sleep pulling at her, as she hadn't gotten any since it happened. She closed her eyes, swearing she'd just rest them. She didn't know how much time had passed but she knew she'd fallen asleep, she had entered that kind of half awake but dreaming state, where you see things that are dream-like but you still feel whats going on in reality. Tate had been there, beckoning to her to follow him, to come closer so he could hold her. When she woke the water was cold, and she realized that her entire head was under water. She broke the surface quickly, gasping for air, but still not feeling satisfied. She coughed, her hands grabbing the sides of the tub. She got quiet, expecting Tate to be there, to feel his hands guiding her to safety, embracing her, but there was nothing. She looked around the empty room, hoping to find him in a corner watching her, but again there was nothing.

Stepping out of the tub she wrapped a towel around herself before wandering into the hallway. Everything looked kind of out of tune, vibrating almost, as if it wasn't really there. Her feet padded along the wooden floor, leaving no marks where there should have been wet footprints. Her brows furrowed as she padded into her bedroom. What she saw there was something she wished she'd never seen. What she hoped was an image of Tate was flickering between the position he'd been on the bed when he disappeared and his bleeding, bullet-holed body lying on the floor, dying. She noticed almost immediately that his eyes were on her, which couldn't have been where they were when he was dying. She moved closer to the image, but his eyes never left her. "Tate?" She stood at the end of the bed, a few steps away from the images. That same expression was on his face, the one right before he disappeared. His lips moved, but no sound came out, and she had to watch the image of him on the floor for multiple flickering sessions before she understood what he was saying. "Join me."

She had no doubt in her mind that she wanted to. Nothing in this world was worth it without him. She let the towel fall to the floor before slipping under the image of her lover on her bed. It was a perfect fit, of course, and when he flicked back so he was on top of her, looking into her eyes with that horrible, painful look, the flicking suddenly stopped. Their surroundings disappeared this time, the two of them curled together in a seemingly empty, colourless space. He fell onto her, his arms no longer holding him up. "Tate?" His head rose, and he looked into her eyes and smiled, recognition filling his gaze. Tears poured down her face. He kissed her, ravaging her. She pushed him away. "What the fuck happened?" He pulled back, suddenly looking confused. "It was terrible. I felt so happy, so calm with you. And then, I was here. Violet, I was so scared." She was silent, thoughtful. "What does that mean now, though. If you were here before, and now I'm with you…" Her breathing stopped, tears speeding up. He looked at her, eyes widening as he realized what she was saying. "No, Vi, no!"

They lay together, holding each other, hoping something would appear in the emptiness. They both cried, more tears than could possibly have been in their bodies had they been alive. Nothing appeared, but they didn't fade. They held each other, sometimes crying, sometimes not, wondering if this was all they had for the rest of eternity. It would be a long time until they found it.