Note: This is unrelated to the plot of the story. I've just been so terribly depressed and parts of this story is what happened half an hour before Christmas for me and parts of it is what I've been drowning in for the past few months. I had written this shortly after the clock struck twelve and Christmas arrived.

Warning: It's not good.

Interlude (Christmas)

I locked myself in the bathroom, listening to two people shouting endlessly. It was never my intention to stay in here, but I had just gotten out of the shower and heard the rising voices of my parents. It had been a slow escalation over the years. Things had never been quite right after mom found out that dad was cheating on her.

In a way, I was glad that she was finally fighting back – just letting it all out. In another, I was completely torn apart and left to scatter into the chilling breeze. Their argument was basically about me.

Even without Ben shouting it to the world that I was a blind, useless girl with no prospects, I knew. I knew all that already. It didn't matter how many degrees I end up having or all the aspirations that I've planned out for myself. None of it would matter because I was blind. I just wanted to do so, so much, but I needed to gain independence. I needed to just somehow… Put myself out there, but I was so afraid.

They always thought Violet was the depressed, rebellious child and maybe she is. Who knows? I just wish that sometimes I could be the same and express what I really feel – how much each word can tear through me and leave a gaping hole that doesn't quite heal.

During times like these, I couldn't even speak to my sister about it. We were never particularly close. With the two adults yelling and threatening for a divorce, I didn't really have anyone. Was Violet even home, right now?

I tucked myself into a ball in the bath tub. What would happen if I just killed myself? I've been hearing that constant chant in my head lately.

Just die.

Just die.

Kill yourself. Kill yourself. Kill yourself.

Just fucking kill yourself.

I'd wake up to it in my head and it'd leave me restless for the rest of the night. I knew I had to see someone about this, but I'm learning psychology right now. How could I have allowed it to overwhelm me like this? And it wasn't as if I wasn't already seeing a therapist. I just… Couldn't tell either Henderson or Dr. White about these thoughts. They had been so hopeful about my sight. I didn't want them to think that the medication wasn't helping or that it was causing a side effect like this. I just… I just…

"MADISON! WE'RE GETTING A DIVORCE! I CAN'T STAND TO BE NEAR HIM ANYMORE!" mom yelled through the door. Her voice cracked as she pushed the words out. "HE'S POISON! I CAN'T TAKE IT! I CAN'T!"

I wanted her to leave him. I wanted to leave him, but I wanted her to stop crying. I wanted her to stop yelling. I just wanted it all the stop! Why couldn't we all just get along? It was Christmas Eve! There was only a few minutes left before Christmas. Why were we doing this to ourselves?

I curled tighter into myself and tried to stop the uncontrollable tears and the soft sobs that would escape my lips every once in a while. I had to get it together. I needed to pull myself out of this self-pity.

I needed a plan.

Mom didn't work as a cellist anymore since we moved away from Boston. She didn't have a job. Violet didn't have a job. I didn't have a job. We didn't have anything to support ourselves, but if they divorced, half the house and the finances would be ours. We could do it, couldn't we?

I'd just have to make a list of things I'd take with me: books, electronic devices, external hard drive, clothes, sketchbooks… What else? Soap, towel…

I clenched my eyes shut. Could I really start over like that? I hated change. I didn't want to leave this family broken, but maybe it wasn't up to me. Maybe we had stopped being whole a long time ago and I was just clinging on to the hope that if I ignored it, things would get better.

In the end, I was just like mom, wasn't I? I clung on to this fantasy that things could always still be the way it was before, but that wasn't possible. We had to get out. We had to rid ourselves of the viper that's been pretending to be an old friend.

I slowly unwound myself and reached for the toilet paper to rid myself of the dried tear stains. My body was still wet, leaving me trembling as I tried to put on clothes. It didn't even matter that I was getting the fabric wet. I needed out of here – even if it was just that bathroom. I needed to talk to someone and the only person I could think of was Tate.

Making sure that no one was around, I tiptoed to my room and locked myself in there. "Tate?" I whispered into the room, hoping that his familiar voice would reply.

It took a minute of me wondering and worrying before his comforting body wrapped itself around me. I clung on to his shirt and sobbed. My words came out incomprehensible, just mindless babbles of every confused and self-deprecating thoughts that had been swirling in my head since I was in Boston.

"Hey. Hey," he murmured, sitting me on the bed. "Shh… It's okay. Don't cry. Tell me, what's wrong?"

I took a deep breath to try to tell him, but it only came out as a squeak when another sob tried to escape my lips. I pushed it down, waited a minute longer, and tried again. "I – I don't know what to do. I… I can't stand them arguing like this and his words, they hurt so much."

His hand rubbed comfortingly at my back.

"I've never told anyone this before, but… I've been so depressed lately. I just want to kill myself. I don't want to live this life. I don't want to be here. I wake up thinking I should just go and die," I confessed, hoping that he wouldn't run away now that he realised that I had baggage with me. "I'm so confused, Tate…"

Tate pressed his lips on my forehead. "You can't die here, Madi. If you have to, you… you have to leave this place. It's no good for you. The house has so much bad history; so much bad karma. It'll start to affect you like it did the other owners. I don't want to see you die here."

"But if we move, I'd be away from you. I think mom is going to take us to Aunt Jo, but Aunt Jo doesn't really want us around. She's probably only doing this because we're related." I didn't want to move from one troubled place to another. "And we can't afford to get another place right now. All our money is in this stupid house."

He didn't reply for a moment.

"Tate, I really don't want to go. I'm really, really scared of change," I mumbled.

"I know, but I think it's best if… if your parents get a divorce," he told me. "Maybe he can be the one to leave. You'd be all settled in already. There are just things like… like taxes and insurance to pay – all that grown up stuff. There's a lot of old things in this house. You can sell them!"

As he spoke, I felt something cold brush by behind me. I shuddered as the unwelcome feeling spread across my body. It was as if the very house was disagreeing with him. "I… I don't know if I can stay here. I really want to move out – not far, but just away…"

…

Tate whimpered as he imagined his Madi being elsewhere. He wouldn't be able to see her, again. The only time he'd be able to leave the house was on Hallowe'en and by then, she might've already forgotten about him. But he knew that this house was also affecting her mind. She was already having those dark thoughts and if she died here, she's never be able to leave. She'd have to endure an eternity of pesky residents – new and old. She'd be stuck with no future, no hope, nothing.

Even as he thought that however, he couldn't help liking the idea of Madi staying with him forever. There would be no leaving this place. She'd be his.

He gnawed at his lips until he could taste blood on his tongue. It was so weird existing here and still being able to feel pain and die. How many deaths would Madi have to go through before they'd be able to find some semblance of peace?

"Thanks for listening to me, Tate," she whispered. "I'm feeling a bit better already. I'm sorry for getting your shirt wet." Already, she was feeling silly about telling him everything, especially about the part where she wanted to die. Now, he'd think differently of her. She didn't want that. She wish that she could just erase that conversation. She didn't want him to know that the thought of killing herself had been so dominating in her mind. She didn't want anyone to know. She felt like a whiny baby.

The thoughts only made her fall deeper into despair. The regret was eating up at her and all she wanted to do was curl up in a hole and never need to face the world, again.

"Hey, I'll always be here for you," he told her. "Always. I love you, Madi." Even if she decided to move away; even if he was never able to see her again, he would always love her. He knew that already. A part of him would always belong to her, no matter where she was and whether she still loved him or not.

"'Love you, too, Tate." She sniffed and snuggled closer against him.

After she had slowly fell into a light slumber, his mind continued to race. He could remember feeling very similarly before he had taken up cocaine. His cock-sucking mother was always making a ruckus in the house, even before his father up and left them. She was just so bitchy and difficult to live with. She was like a black widow – lure them in and suck the life out of them. The same happened with Larry. She pulled him away from his family, just to get back into this accursed house, and then kicked him to the curb.

Dr. Harmon was Madi's version of his cock-sucking mother. The bastard kept complaining about how hard he was trying to make the relationship work again, but Tate had seen those texts from the other woman. The whore was pregnant and he was planning to go out to her, leave his own wife and children behind. He probably wouldn't even care if they burned themselves alive in this house.

Tate clenched and unclenched his hand, trying to keep his anger under control. He didn't want to accidentally hurt Madi who was so delicately laying in his arms. He'd protect her. As long as she was in the house, he refused to allow anything to hurt her, even if it was emotionally. He'd just have to find a way to kill the cheating bastard. Maybe make it look like an accident and have his mother drag his dying bother away from the house.

As night bled into day, he was still devising the different methods he could use to kill Ben Harmon.

…

I woke up feeling groggy and sluggish. My head hurt and my eyes didn't want to open. The events of last night was already flooding back.

Merry Christmas to me.

At least the house was void of voices, but the tension was still suffocating. I could hear music coming from Violet's room, but nothing else.

I slowly untangled myself from Tate and sighed. I didn't want to leave the bed, but I wasn't going to just stay here the entire day. It was Christmas. I had so much planned. I was going to be happy today. What a joke…

Ha. Ha.

Someone up there must be laughing real hard.

I slipped into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face. New day, same old problems. Maybe if I immersed myself into something new, I'd stop thinking about all the other things that wouldn't leave me alone.

As I was putting my toothbrush away, my hand brushed against something cold. It was thin and it was sharp. I always knew that Violet must've tried something like this, but I didn't know it was still recurring.

Why did people cut themselves? Was it for a pain that they could control or perhaps it was the high of knowing that they were mere millimetres away from death?

I held the small piece of metal delicately between my fingers. Such a small thing. Were my parents so unobservant to miss it in the bathroom? Or perhaps they just didn't care and pushed it off as something insignificant?

Aligning the razor in the direction of my arm, I paused. Did I really want to do this? It was something that would leave a permanent mark on my body, something I'd have to be reminded of every second of every minute. Everyone would know what I had done.

I pressed it harder against the skin. Human life was so fragile. Just a small puncture could end it. Just one short, fluid movement.

Just as I could feel the blade dig even deeper, to the point of pain, I stopped. No, if I wanted it to end, I could end it any time. I wouldn't get a second chance in life. I had to keep going for just a little longer.

I put the razor back in its original place and left the bathroom. I could do this. I could do this.

When I went down for breakfast, no one spoke. Mom had food ready for us already, but I was the only one at the table. Violet must still be in her room and Ben… who knows where he went?

"Madi, I'm sorry about yesterday," mom said. "I didn't mean to bring my problems to you. I just feel myself get riled up so easily now."

I gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry about it." It wasn't her fault. She was only defending me. I should've been the one to apologise for what happened last night. "Mom, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course, baby, and I love you too." She gave me a hug and kiss on the forehead. "We'll be okay."

We'll be okay.

When Ben came back home from wherever he had been, mom made it point to avoid him at all cost. She didn't speak to him and she didn't remain in the same room as him. She'd speak to Violet and I, but it was curt. I could tell this was really upsetting her.

"Violet, what are your thoughts on leaving here to Aunt Jo's place?" I asked her during the rare moments we spent together outside our rooms.

"Why are you asking?" she inquired back. I could practically feel the eye roll with her words. "If mom really wanted to leave, we'd be there already. She's never going to change. She'll keep forgiving him and then we'd be stuck in the same situation."

I looked down. She was right. Mom did cave in pretty quickly after a while. I didn't want to go through all the trouble of moving again only for the same thing to repeat itself. "But what are your thoughts of changing schools, again?"

"It doesn't matter," she droned. "Every school is the same. It's full of people who think they know everything and try to control others. It doesn't matter if it's here, in Boston, or anywhere else. Those coke heads are everywhere."

I grimaced. Coke heads. I hoped that Violet hadn't gotten mixed in with any of that. The last thing I needed was a sister who had a fatal addiction to a fatal drug.

"Don't worry, I'm not an idiot like them," she told me as if reading my mind before getting off the couch and heading upstairs.

For the next few days, nothing changed.

I wandered the house as if it was empty.

…

Tate was pacing in the attic. Even his brother was giving him concerned grunts now. It's been a few days since he had interacted with Madi and it was killing him. He had so much running in his head that it was impossible to make sense of it all. The most dominating thought was killing Ben to make Madi happy, but he wasn't sure if she'd actually be happy that her father was dead. What if she became even more upset and ended up leaving him anyway?

His fingers gripped tightly to his dark blonde curls. Maybe if he ripped them all out, the thoughts would leave his head as well.

"My boy, you shouldn't worry so." Nora ghosted over to him. "Let them resolve their own silly disputes." She gently pulled his hand away from his hand.

Tate gave her an anguished look. "Madi can't leave me." He wanted what was best for her, which was leaving the house, but it hurt so much thinking about it.

"If she leaves, then she was never good enough for you in the first place," came Nora's advice before she disappeared once more.

He spent the hour thinking upon her words. Nora was wrong. Madi was far too good for someone like him. He was the darkness to her light, wishing nothing more than to snuff her out. No, what he had to do was the opposite. He had to let her go. It was the best thing that he could ever offer her.

Tate picked up the box that he had hidden here. It was supposed to be her Christmas present, but with everything that had happened, he hadn't had the chance to give it to her. The box contained an old set of jewellery that once belonged to Nora. The blonde woman had actually been the one to suggest it first. Inside was a pearl necklace with matching earrings and a silver ring that once belonged to her mother. She had no more use for it now.

Finally making up his mind, he decided to go see Madi and tell her what he thought she should do. Anywhere was better than here. Her Aunt Jo couldn't possibly be that bad and with this gift, he hoped that she'd at least remember him, even if they could never see each other again; even if she… fell in love with someone else.

He clutched the box tightly in his chest. If his heart still beat, he was sure that it'd seize and kill him before he'd make it to her.

Appearing in her room, he noticed that she wasn't in there, nor was she in the living room or kitchen. Did she have an exam today? He actually didn't recall seeing her the entire day. Where had she gone?

An irrational part of him feared that she had already left without saying goodbye, but that wouldn't be the case. Madi wasn't like that at all. She'd say something to him if she left, right?

He wandered down the halls, hoping to catch a glimpse of her before stopping in front of a closed door. This was the only room in the house that he hadn't checked – the bathroom. Anyone could be in there. He didn't want to seem like a pervert and burst in, but… no one had to know.

Without bothering to push open the door, he simply materialised inside. His eyes wandered to the counter space and toilet. No one was occupying them, that was good. He looked at himself in the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet. His hair was messy as always, but Madi mentioned liking it that way. He gave his reflection an awkward toothy grin before grimacing. That wasn't a good look for him. He didn't want to scare her away.

He rubbed his face with his free hand. This wasn't good. Why was he so nervous? He was only going to tell his girlfriend that she should leave him forever and never come back. Nothing special.

The thought made him nearly race back to the attic to shut himself out and give the situation another decade to think about.

He took a deep, unneeded breath to calm his nerves. He had a pep talk going in his head before something caught his eye. The shower curtain was drawn, but he hadn't really thought much about it at first. The small silhouette shown beyond it, however, was a completely different story.

"Madi?" he whispered. It was most likely just a stool of some sort in the tub, but he really couldn't figure out where else she could be. "Madi, you there?"

He gripped the white, plastic curtain in his hand before a sense of dread filled him. The bottom of the sheet, hidden behind the porcelain tub was dipped red.

Without another thought, he jerked it to the side. The box fell from his hand and landed with a soft thud into a shallow puddle. "No… No…" He refused to believe what he was saying. He refused. She would tell him if she was going to leave. She wouldn't just disappear without saying goodbye. She wouldn't.

But she wasn't leaving. She was never going to leave.

His Madi was sitting in the bathtub with dark red rivulets dripping from each arm. There was so much blood. How long did it take before she faded? How long had she been huddled here, wondering if this was what she really wanted? How long had she been in here before he was smart enough to realise that something had happened to her?!

"Why?" he sobbed, lifting her body and cradling the still form in his arms. "Why?! You promised me! You promised that you wouldn't die here!"

He felt her wrapped her arms around him. "I didn't know," she whispered to his ears.

Tate gently laid the body back down and turned to bury his face into her hair. "You promised…" he whimpered.

"I didn't know," she repeated.

When he looked at her, he could see the sadness in her eyes. It'd always be there now. She had wanted to leave this world. Instead, she was stuck existing in it without any means of escape.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I deeply, deeply apologise for uploading this on Christmas, but I needed to vent somehow and I hope this doesn't ruin your day. I had been really looking forward to this day, regardless of not receiving presents from my parents or anything. I did end up giving them something, but I guess I just wasn't good enough to get anything back. I know this entire chapter and author's note has been depressing and make me seem really whiny, but Christmas just means a lot to me, even though I typically don't get a lot of presents to begin with. I just like feeling happy on this day. I've also cancelled Boxing Day for myself (The day of post-Christmas sales for anyone who doesn't have it) because I couldn't bear to even think of shopping right now.

I did end up receiving two wonderful gifts from friends who didn't expect anything back. I'm so grateful for them and just thinking about it makes me feel better, even if it's for short periods of time, but it's enough right now to keep me going. I'm even looking forward to the new year and hoping to change the direction of my life.

I'm going to shoot for another bachelor's degree in May and hopefully finally do something I'm happy with and make enough money to move out.

Once again, I'm really sorry for posting this now.

Thank you PorcelainPuppetLady, NameWithNoMeaning, VampWolf92, and meangirl8 for reviewing. Seeing your messages when I wake up has been wonderful and it chases those dark demons away.

NameWithNoMeaning: I absolutely appreciate your support and how kind and considerate you've been. You've been leaving such wonderful messages. This story does help me, in a way. I can vent in a more creative fashion that I hope wouldn't be too distasteful. I did, however, cross over some lines that I never meant to with this chapter.

Thank you as well to everyone who has favourited and followed this story.

And I do wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy new year.