Tate stumbled through the halls, bumping into walls and knocking over anything that got in his way. He fell into his room, groaning in pain. As he picked himself up, he took another swig of the vodka. He sighed in pleasure and wobbly made it to his bed. He tried to lay on it, but his vision was so blurred that he kept missing it with his hands. He finally was done trying and just collapsed onto the ground.

"Tate!" he heard as he lost conciseness.

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Violet had picked Tate up and laid him on the bed. She had been sitting by his side and watching over him, making sure he was going to be alright. She hoped he didn't have alcohol poisoning or had harmed himself in anyway with his binge drinking.

Once she was sure he would be fine, she relaxed. She wasn't going to leave, but she wasn't going to hover over him like she was. She started to look around his room for anything to entertain herself with.

As she rummaged through his desk she found what looked like a drawing book and a journal tied together. She decided to ignore the journal, but wanted to see how good of an artist Tate was. When she looked at the pictures she got a weird feeling in her stomach. They were good but disturbing. He had drawn a lot of images of people dying. Some were shot, others were being attacked by animals, and then a lot of grim reaper portraits.

Violet swallowed, trying to calm herself. She didn't expect Tate to draw stuff awful things. She glanced over at the journal, no longer caring about his privacy. She grabbed it and flipped it open to the most recent pages.

Today was shit like always but somehow worse than the other days. I'm just sick of watching people be treated like shit for no reason. The world is a horrible place. I wish everyone bad in the world would just die, but I know that won't solve anything. You can't stop people from becoming bad, everyone has bad in them. The only thing that I can come up with, to stop the pain, is to end it for good. I don't want to have to wake up every morning and be in a world of shit and piss. I want to wake up somewhere kind and clean. I wish everyone who felt like me could wake up in that place one day. I wonder if that could happen. I want it to; maybe I could make that happen for me and some others. We could go somewhere happy together.

Violet started to freak, she had no idea Tate was thinking these things. She turned around to look at him and saw that he was slightly awake. He was still mumbling incoherent words, so he must've still been drunk. She walked over to him, trying to forget about what she saw and read, and focus on him.

"Tate?" Violet whispered, rubbing his back.

"Violet?" Tate groaned. "Violet!" He cheered, sitting up. "Violet, I need you know something. I love you!"

"What?"

"I want to be with you forever. I know we only meet like a week ago but I love you and you're my everything!" Tate leaned in, desperately wanting to kiss her.

"Tate stop, you're drunk." Violet pushed him away.

Tate layed down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Tears began to build up in his eyes and he tried to fight them back. Violet grabbed his hand, trying to console him.

"Tate," Violet said, "I love you, too."

Tate's eyes widened and he sat up to face her, "Really?"

"Yes, but you need to sober up so we can talk."

"What's there to talk about?" he words were slurred.

"A lot, but not right now. "Violet tucked him in under the covers. "You have to sleep this off."

"Ok Violet, I love you."

Violet smiled, "Love you too." she pecked his cheek.

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Crying rang through the house, and made Tate's eyes pop open. He sat up and listened to Addie's cries. He quickly sprang out of bed and rushed to her. He followed the sound and it led him to the closet. He would've guessed if he had time to think, but right now he was just trying to get her out. He banged against the door, yelling out to her!

"Don't worry, Addie. I'm going get you out of there!"

"Tate, please!" Addie cried back.

Tate finally broke through the lock on the door and tugged it open. Addie ran from the small room, crying, and slammed her bedroom door shut. Tate felt his anger building as he thought about how horrible it was to force Addie into the closet. Tate hated the torture chamber and so did everyone who was ever pushed into it.

He marched to the garage and grabbed a sledge hammer. He dragged it to the little space and threw it all over the place. He smashed every mirror and broke through the walls. He even swung down at the pieces on the ground and made holes in the floor.

He heard his mother screaming and shouting at him. He just ignored it, dropping the hammer and walking back to his room. He felt accomplished and like it had changed his world forever. There was no more bad closet for Constance to lock them in. He wondered if he could make a change like this, but bigger. Something to help others and himself. The thought made him grin evilly as he sat down in his desk chair.

So it's getting pretty serious up in here. Hope you everyone loves it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!