Chapter 7

Tate didn't want to look up. Couldn't. He was so petrified that it could the that guy again or something else entirely. It wasn't until the hands that were planted firmly on his shoulders started to rub circles on his collar bones did he finally look up.

"Tate, what's wrong?" Addie's voice was like a warm hug as she stared at him in confusion. Tate shook his head and let his sister comfort him. There wasn't much else that he could do. All he knew was that he was breaking. There was something going on here. What exactly, he had no idea and he didn't know where to start. Addie sat down next to him and whispered kind things. Addie was the sweetest person in the world. He wanted everyone to know that, but his mother thought something completely different. She was a burden to her. To her family. As was Beau. She claimed she loved them all but she only did when it was conveniant for her. He hated it.

With her comforting embrace, Tate's exhaustion must have caught up to him because he drifted off to sleep. Not something he particularly wanted to do, but it happened. When he awoke the next day, he was covered up in his bed while Addie was asleep in his chair. Before he said anything, he rubbed his eyes with his blanket to rid them of the sleep and dried tears that stuck there. Once he was sitting up, he gently woke up Addie.

"Hey, Addie. You didn't have to stay in here all night." She smiled and yawned.

"You asked me to. You said you were scared." He didn't remember saying any of them. She smiled at him. "It's okay. i don't mind. The house felt funny last night anyways." He cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know. It didn't feel calm like it usually does. It was a little scary." He nodded. So it wasn't just him.

"I thought I was the only one." Addie shook her head.

"Violet said sorry, by the way. She wanted me to tell you that she was sorry and that he's going to talk to him." His ear purked.

"Him who?"

"The guy that yelled at you. She said that was her dad. He came to look for her last night and was really angry." Tate's eyes widened.

"Oh shit." Running his hands through his hair, he huffed. "Well I made one hell of a first impression." Tate looked around and remembered what Violet said earlier the day before. That she wouldn't be able to come over today. "Looks like I'm going to have to occupy myself today. I'm going to go for a run, okay? You should go lay down for a couple more hours. I'll see you later." Addie nodded and shuffled back into her room after closing his door.

He found his jogging outfit and changed into it quickly. He was still on edge and he only noticed that when he went to grab his iPod. His hands were still shaking and the memories flashed through his mind. Shaking them off as best as he could, he pushed his earbuds in his ears and made his way out of the house. He decided to absentmindedly jog around until his lungs hurt from the cold air which shockingly took longer than he thought. He kept an eye on the neighbors as he ran trying to paint a mental picture in case Violet decided to bring any more friends to his house claiming they live near. It's not like he doubted her or thought that she was a liar. It was just that this town was weird. This house was strange. It was changing the way he thought of things and made him paranoid. Just being outside running cleared his head and allowed him to think of everything that happened. From when Violet first started showing up in the house to when the pygmy thing scratched him. He decided it was time to ask some questions. But that's only if Violet would be able to hang around him at all. Whoever that guy was that threatened him, he was quick and strong. Someone he didn't really want to mess with.

Tate's lungs started to burn and he'd lapped the neighborhood for the last time before entering the warm house again which was eerily quiet. He expected to hear Beau and Addie laughing and playing, but there wasn't a sound. As he closed and latched the door behind him, he noticed the note on the side table scratched over the one he'd taken for that one maid chick.

Tate,

We'll be back later.

-Mom

He crumbled the note and threw it in the corner as he jogged up the stairs to clean up. Once in his room, he pealed off his sweaty shirt and pants, grabbed a fresh towel, and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. No one was around so he didn't see the harm in walked around the house bare. Apart from the slight cold chill he received as he closed the door, all was comfortable. He turned on the water full blast and stepped in letting it ripple down his throbbing muscles. Steam rose from his body as the warm water touched his cold porcelain skin filling the air around him. His hair stuck to the back of his neck as he grabbed the shampoo, squirting a small amount directly into his hair. The blonde color darkened as it dripped wet with suds.

Once his hair was rid of soap, Tate sat in his tub and let the water rain around him. He couldn't understand why people preferred large houses. They were so spacious and you could never tell what was going on his other rooms. And in his place, that was a definite concern.

Once he felt he was finished soaking, Tate dried off and wrapped his towel around his waist and walked back to his room. His safe place in chaos. When he got there, a familiar person was sitting in his chair.

"I thought you weren't able to hang out today." He said to Violet whose cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.

"I'm n-not." She stammered slightly. "I just wanted to apologize for last night."

"Yeah, that was your dad, right? " Tate sat on his bed opposite Violet.

"Yup." Tate's eyes widened. He ran his fingers through his damp, knotted hair.

"How did he get in here? Hell, how did he know where you'd be?"

"He has this creepy way of just knowing and also has mastered the art of popping up out of fucking nowhere." Her voice grew slightly louder as if she was saying that to provoke him.

"Is he around now or something?" Tate's voice grew a little nervous. The last thing he needed was the guy accusing him of something while he was sitting in his room, on his bed, in nothing but a towel.

"Nah. I don't think so anyway. I should probably get going." Violet stood and made her way to the door just before Tate's hand lightly gripped her wrist.

"Can I tell you something? And you not laugh at me?" Tate kept his eyes away from hers as he spoke. Violet turned around and nodded.

"Could you please stay a little longer until my family and Larry gets home?" His eyes stayed on their hands as he spoke while Violet tried to look into them.

"Why?" She squeezed his hand and move closer to him.

"I'm scared to be here alone." He whispered. "I know it sounds really silly and I know I said I don't believe in ghosts or whatever but I don't know. I keep seeing things; hearing things. I think I'm losing it, Violet." Tate's eyes grew warm as he finally voiced his fears to someone. "That thing I saw in the basement, I think I had a dream about it. When you told me that story about the Montgomery family, it was like I already knew what was going to happen because I had a dream about it the night before and when I told you about the demon thing you whispered something like "Thaddeus" and that was the name of the thing in my dream. That can't be coincidence, right?" He could feel the panic rise in his throat and everything he was saying sounded absolutely insane now that he was saying it out loud instead of in his head. "I'm really scared, Violet, and I really don't want to be alone right now."

Violet listened carefully as Tate spoke, careful with her expressions. "Maybe you're just tired." She finally said. Something that he really didn't expect to hear from her. He glanced up in confusion.

"Tired?" His hand dropped from hers. "Fine. Go ahead and go. You know, I didn't get tell you that so you could come up with that stupid ass conclusion. I'm actually looking for a bit of help. Some kind of support. I just told you that I think I'm going crazy and that's all you've got? No story that works with what I've said? Nothing? Not even, "Sure. I'll stay until you're not scared." Just that b.s.? Thanks, Violet." Why he got angry, he didn't know, but he was. He just wanted to sit with someone that didn't make him feel terrified. But whatever. He had other ways to deal.

Violet scoffed and walk out of his room. He could hear the front door open and slam shut once again. That was it, though. This was why he didn't ask for anything. Why he didn't ask for help from people. Because what good would they do when he had the thing that actually took all of his pain away. After he put on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt, Tate grabbed his little box and locked his door and shut himself off from the world.

He sat on the floor in a child's pose. His little baggie sat off to the side as he got everything ready. A little bit of powder poured in front of him. He straightened the line with his old student ID. He held his straw at the beginning of the line and placed the other side just under his nose. The cold plastic brought back memories. Chills started to roll their way up his back as the fear set in. Not because he was afraid of getting caught but afraid of what was in the house. Before he took a breath, Tate closed his eyes. Would he see more if he did this? He pulled back. Would they get worse? How could it get worse? What would he see if he saw anything at all?

Pause.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Fuck it."