"Yeah, that's true." I said in the calmest tone my voice could allow me to show. But I knew I was smiling. How couldn't I? It was the first time in years that we'd crossed paths and Violet didn't send me away. Wasn't that always a good sign? It also seemed like Violet knew I'd been seeing her from the darkness. Yet she didn't seem to mind. She knew I was there.. "You've never been alone, Vi" I spoke the truth. Out loud. "You never will be." That was a good thing, right? Saying what I thought was a good thing... Right? That's why I couldn't understand the reason for Violet's frown, the way the glint in her eyes became cold, dark even, something I had never seen in Violet before. And even worse the coldness of her voice toward me when she spoke.
"I don't want to talk about it." she said. And it felt like I'd been punched right on the stomach. I leaned back again, feeling like what I imagined an animal in training would feel like right before its master used the whip against it. You know? Helpless and wrong; Feelings that had been known to me only after Violet stopped talking to me. But when she didn't say anything again I allowed my eyes to look at the beauty of her features, the shadows giving her the calmest of looks, but I knew better. I could see the defensive look in her eyes, the way her dilated pupils threatened as if they spoke for her saying "I can take care of myself". It was a look she used often. But not toward me. She was looking at me as if she didn't know me. She was looking at me as if I were a stranger.
"I'm sorry." That's all I could say, and I could feel the tears starting to form again. I was sorry for disappointing her, I was sorry for hurting her. I loved her, I still do, and no one should even hurt the people they love. No one. Not ever. I deserved to be ignored.
"Yeah." I couldn't get used to the unusual coldness of her voice toward me. Not even when she first sent me away had this come to be. Not even when she finally said goodbye. Not ever. And now it was.
I wanted to explain to her, I wanted to let her know how much she had changed me. What she meant to me, how I loved her more than anything in this world. I know that probably couldn't mean much coming from a fucked up murderous dead psychopath, but I still wanted her to know. "Can I... Can I explain?" I heard myself say. I just wanted her to know.
I heard shifting on the wooden floor and then a click, the music that had been coming from the little earplugs had stopped. I lifted my eyes to see what was going on. Violet had stood up and her arms were crossed across her chest in that stance she always made. I'd ruined it. "I said, I don't want to talk about it, Tate." she said. And even in that tone, hearing her voice saying my name made what once had been an alive beating heart that stopped for the contact of so many bullets across my chest, beat again. But then she turned to leave, leaving behind only the sounds of her feet and hands crawling their way out of this place. I knew I'd missed her, but now it's like I missed her even more, and I didn't think this hell could be worse. But now it had gotten worse.
It was easy for me to know what she was thinking, at least before she sent me away to this broken and darkened reverie that I didn't seem to be able to escape from. You have to pay for what you've done. The words rung in my head, her voice sad, angry, disappointed and broken. Betrayed. I love you, Tate. But I can't forgive you. I could feel the tears that had starting to form spill down my cheeks now in a silent trail. "VIOLET!" I heard myself yell, the memory as fresh as if had just come to pass. Her absence as painful as a fresh cut wound. "I NEED YOU!" But she didn't come back. Of course she didn't come back.
What was this feeling? A feeling I got at the very bottom of my stomach, I felt like I couldn't breathe, like I was dying. Again. But that's not what was happening. Was this regret? Fuck. I knew I regretted everything bad I'd done after I met Violet. But I'd never felt this before her. Regret. Not even when I died trying to speak when that nosy cop asked me why I'd done whatever it is I'd done. Murderer. It's like I could hear every little existing voice in this house whisper that to me. Fucking details. I didn't know what I'd done; no, not exactly. I knew but I didn't remember... Fucking regret. It hurt. Violet didn't want anything to do with me. It seemed like she never would... She'd never forgive me. Never.
The tears dropped in a hot journey down my cheeks, and my first, in a fit of anger, balled and painfully made contact with the old wood, making a small rupture. I didn't mind the pain, I deserved it. More than this. I deserved to be killed over and over. If only she let me explain. I thought over an over. No. She had to forgive me one day, I didn't know when. But I'd make her see. She had to forgive me. I allowed the tears to fall freely.
And somewhere in the house, I could swear I heard the echo of the sorrowful crying that always broke my heart. That made me remember what I had done. That made me hurt as if salt had been spilt on my wounds. Invisible wounds. The sound that made me wish I could take it all back. The sound that always made me wish... That I had her back.
That sound... The heartbroken sobbing of my Violet.
To Be Continued.