~a/n: alright, you asked for it, folks. More wrath of Violaf horrors approach. Just remember, when these stories keep you up wide eyed and sweaty, wondering how some poor loser could devote her life to writing this sort of crap, remember you brought it upon yourself. **note: I'm actually attempting to give the story more direction. Maybe this will help me sleep at night.**

C h a p t e r T w o

Violet's eyes were wide and livid as she leaned against the wall of her room and slid to the floor. She closed her eyes and tried to control her rage-this hate in her was overwhelming. Why couldn't she control herself?

When he came that evening she was mad, violent, willing to hurt him. Perhaps she could have even killed him. Memories of the night were fuzzy in her spinning mind, looking for conscious connection and finding none.

She shut her eyes and leaned back against the wall, feeling the hot sting of tears streaking down her face. She had no idea what she was going to do.

A thought struck her, lightly at first but then taking on more conviction. She couldn't think of anything to do about it now, but she did know who might.

Stationary paper, pen, envelope-so. She scribbled hastily and stuffed it in to go out with the morning mail.