AN:Hi guys! I am so very shocked by all the reviews I got, holy shit I almost cried when I secretly checked them in school lol everyone was staring .-. THANK YOU SO MUCHH! You guys are legitimately the best people ever, I'm so thankful for my readers *Le cries* This whole chapter is, you guessed it, episode 2, home invasion. I'm so fucking excited to write this with all the action and the HORROR. You must understand that I'm a student, so with finals and all, I can only write on weekends, although I check your reviews every day *_* ! It'll be hard to update but I promise I'll most likely post once a week, so you can read to your heart's desire! I've decided to make this story end also with "post murder house", so watch out for that hehe. I love you guys so much, thank you for the lovely critique and feedback.
Chapter 3
There were so much fucking unanswered questions. Questions that were hopefully solved. Soon. I cracked open my shitty phone and the screen flickered on. It was a text from Leah. I never saw Leah ever since the incident, not at school, nowhere. The trill of Tate's voice rang in my ears once more.
"I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!" And the visions of that awful mutated monster- these things executed themselves in my brain, every time I shut my goddamn eyes. I read the text:
Leah: indoor skate park, we need 2 talk.
I wondered whether or not she was tricking me. I needed answers. I already had enough on my chest. I felt so, unusually low, like something had changed. There was worry. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like the air inside of me was fake, like my lungs were detached from my body, as if living was some plan, some- act. What was this feeling? Hatred? Loneliness? I felt these feeling before, more than I could count, but it was different, I never felt this way before. It was, perhaps, heartbreak. I liked Tate, he was like me. I trusted him with my secrets and was attracted to every flaw. For the first time, someone actually brought me joy. But that shattered. Now, he brought me anxiety. I walked to the skate park, and observing my new surroundings. I learned to adapt to L.A., it was like my life: It reeked of tobacco and tortured its citizens with its false luxury. Finally, I arrived at the indoor skate park. The place was fucking cool. The only lights were the Christmas lights that hanged all around the banisters and railings of the top of the rink, giving the area a dark, yellow hue. Old rusty music played in the background, setting the perfect mood. I walked up to the top of the rink to find a girl smoking, with bug-eyed sunglasses and a velvet hat that covered most of her face.
"You mind?" I asked as I plopped next to her.
"Hi, Harmon." Leah murmured, inhaling her cigarette once more. Leah looked different, tired. She wasn't so bright and flouncing, she was drab and carried negative vibes. I was now aware, whatever happened in my basement, changed her life forever. I couldn't help but feel like ripping out all of my hair because I did this to someone. It's all my fucking fault. I grabbed a cigarette from her pack and brought it to my lips.
"You actually came." Leah said as she lighted me up. I inhaled the delicacy and the smoke surged through my throat and lungs. I finally exhaled and turned to her. This wasn't even her. Why did she choose to turn out like this instead of doing something that could actually help her? I saw my dreadful self in her now, and realized why everyone must hate me. I was a big fucking loser, a gimmick, a dirt bag. The sound of wheels and skateboards panged against the rink. Leah inhaled again as I finished my cig.
"I thought you hated smoking." I said.
"I've taken it up. I can't sleep. I'm terrified of everything." Leah admitted, her voice trembling. She had a huge piece of white gauze that covered her cheek, where the injury was. I've practically mentally and physically scarred this girl. A huge fucking boulder crushed me as she explained her problems. I wanted to be annihilated by this burden of a boulder, really fucking bad, but I needed to counter with my worries, and deal with it.
"What attacked me wasn't human." Leah declared.
"It was Tate." I explained. Just speaking of that sardonic douche bag made me shudder.
"No, you saw that other thing too." She protested, her voice shaky and mad with anger.
"He was trying to freak us both out." I said, trying to make sense of it all. I had to be logical, this was just some jackshit make-believe mutant he pulled. She shook her head and returned to her burning cig.
"What'd you tell your parents?" I curiously asked. She sighed.
"Don't worry. I told them I got attacked by some chola on Melrose who wanted my Chanel." Leah replied.
"Couldn't tell them I went to your house to score coke, could I? I had to file a fake police report and everything." She continued. She was so miserable, so depressed.
"How deep are the cuts?" I questioned.
"Deep. God, and I-I can't stop thinking about that mouth." Leah wailed.
"It was a mask." I said. It had to be a mask, it just had to be. What else could it possibly be? Tate was a dickhead, scaring us like that. Why would he do that? That manipulator! He was twisted and wrong, yet the only person that has ever made me happy.
"He was purposely trying to terrorize you." I explained. It was my idea. To scare Leah. I shouldn't have been so naïve, trusting Tate with this sick, plan. She sniffled. I analyzed her. She looked so unhappy and sullen.
"That hat doesn't look like you." I finally admitted. It was floppy and covered her face. Leah was the opposite of that. She was beautiful, so rarely sculpted and featured, and she loved to show off her perfection. But now, she covered it, her icy blue eyes concealed with dark sunglasses.
"It serves a purpose." Leah countered as she turned to me.
"Look. My hair is turning white, from fear. Yeah, I read on the internet that's possible." Leah displayed as she took off her hat, little stands of her coffee brown hair, white and famished. Then, she removed her sunglasses. And looked down, obviously thinking about something.
"Do you believe in the devil?" Leah questioned. My heart stopped. Sure she moped around now about shit but I never would believe she would fucking hail Satan. I didn't believe in God. If there was a God, I wouldn't be here. But I didn't believe in the devil either. I didn't know what to fucking believe anymore.
"No." I finally answered.
"I do. I've looked into his eyes." Leah said. I gazed into her eyes and saw pain and torture. She was fallen, broken. I broke her. Leah finished her cigarette and reached into her pack for another one.
"Shit. Empty." She cursed. Her wobbly body got up to leave.
"Hey- if you- if you need anything you can contact me." I advised, my face stiff.
"I'll keep that in mind." Leah muttered as she hobbled out of the facility. My horrendous plan to defeat Leah worked. Or backfired. She was defeated, defeated as a human being. She lost the battle to herself, and turned into some sad lyric in a song. The plan utterly backfired.
~At the Murder House~
I came home to find Mom and Ben sitting at the dinner table, eating.
"Vi, you're just in time. Come sit down." Ben encouraged. No fucking way, eating was bad enough, but family dinners were the absolute worst.
"Not hungry." I replied.
"Violet." Ben slurred as he raised his eyebrows, as if I had said something wrong. What the fuck was his problem? I didn't feel in the mood to eat, so what? He couldn't force me to stuff myself with shit, could he?
"Your mom's been telling me about your eating habits recently." Ben explained with dissatisfaction in his voice. Mom looked down at the ground, stabbing her fork into her pot roast and cutting it up into tiny bits, gobbling them up once at a time. Mom? Why would she complain about my own fucking habits? Did she think there was something wrong with me or some shit? I knew she was just worried about me, but why the fuck would she rant about what I eat or don't eat? Especially to Ben. I rolled my eyes and sighed.
"Come, sit." Ben repeated strictly." I reluctantly fell into my chair and sagged in it. I began to pick up my fork, holding it as if I was about to stab someone, and poked at my pot roast, barely grazing over it. I rested my head on my hand which the table supported.
"So, where'd you got today Vi?" Mom questioned, attempting to change the subject.
"Nowhere." I muttered and huffed a deep sigh. This was fucking boring, worst than school. I wanted to escape this dreadful situation more than anything at the moment. My pathetic parents glared at me.
"What?" I scowled at their disturbed expressions. They always described me a delinquent, a "troubled teen". Please, they haven't experienced shit yet. At least I'm stronger than them. My dad was a lying cheat who kisses his wife's ass but fucks the maid behind closed doors. My mom was a weak little baby who couldn't stand up to herself and accept the fact that she's in deep shit, and is too naïve to understand that she's being tricked by Ben, ludicrously trying to mend their relationship. No doubt, absolutely, pathetic.
"Violet, I do not appreciate your attitude." Ben uttered. Finally, his true side of parenting came out to play. I was intrigued to see where this grows, I decided to test him a bit, to tease him.
"Oh! I'm sorry? Did I offend you? Because the only thing offending me right now is you're sick, disgusting fucking face." I insulted, my face emotionless and my voice steady. Ben swallowed with glossy eyes. After four or five seconds of utter silence, Ben left the table to fetch a big bottle of wine. He poured some in his glass and gulped the whole thing immediately. At that moment, Mom decided to chime in,
"How was school Vi?" She questioned with a raspy voice.
"Boring, just like this conversation. Can I be done now?" I questioned, although my food was still untouched. Mom raised her eyebrows and glared at me. Ben finished his second glass of wine and offered mom some, but paused.
"No thanks Ben, remember, I'm not allowed." She declined. Ben's soulless face finally grinned and gave her a small peck on the cheek. What the fuck was this? Are they "in love" again or some shit? Mom is so fucking stupid, letting herself open up to Ben again. Am I the only intelligent person in the fucking household?
"Your dad is leaving for Boston tomorrow to see a patient." Mom informed. To see a patient, or to fuck a patient? I raised my eyebrows at her and she shrugged, finishing her helping of pot roast. Ben had already finished his and took his plate and mom's plate to the sink.
"By the way, Violet, you're excused." Ben said, taking my plate as well.
"Finally." I muttered, trudging to my room. I was fucking exhausted, and confused. Why didn't mom want to drink wine? For as long as I remember, whenever Ben drank some wine, she drank too. Unless… No. It couldn't be. Was she pregnant? Could she be that dimwitted, to give herself to Ben again? He's in control now. Now he can do any shit he wants, and she will support it, even going to Boston to probably hookup with 20 year olds again, for fucks sake. I fell into my bed, my mind tangling and my anxiety increasing higher and higher. I wish I could just escape this chaos. Forever. I closed my eyes and my visions occurred. Screams and wails of smoldering children penetrated my thoughts. Blood baths and haunting memories erupted each breath I took. Cackles of shrieking mutations lurked in the dark. How unpleasant that I had to experience these realities of phobias each night. I've had visions for as long as I can remember, ever since I was a little girl. Finally, after what seemed like forever, something snapped and pierced the mask of my fears. I was asleep, in a dream. Or a nightmare. Tate appeared and held my hand, he looked sorrowfully down at the ground. We walked down this path, the ground concrete and rough. As we walked, hand in hand, loud voices boomed all around us.
"You're nothings!"
"Worthless!"
"Nobody will ever love people like you!"
"You're monsters!"
"Freaks!"
"Fucking kill yourself!"
"No one will care!"
The voices chanted. In reality, I'm much stronger, I wouldn't feel too much if someone said that, but in the dream, I found myself sobbing. Hot tears splashed down my cheeks, raining down from my eyes. I wailed, crying my very heart out. Tate hugged me, the sweet warmth of his embrace brought a smile to my face. I looked up at him and he gave me a genuine smile, beads of tears trailing down his face. I realized he wasn't a monster. Not at all. I misunderstood him, just like everyone else does to people like us. How could I be so blind? We were the same, yet opposites. He was twisted and dark, and I was broken and light, yet we attract to each other. He wished to be good, I know it. Maybe this is some fucking cliché, a joke. Maybe we were written in the stars. Maybe we were doomed together. Maybe we could save each other. Maybe. We were walking travesties, compatible to each other, mended by our similarities and differences. A fusion of miserable affection. I reminisced all of the times he had made me smile, made me feel as if I wasn't worthless. He was psychotic, a deranged mind who's intentions were to protect the ones he loved. After all,
"If you love someone you should never hurt them… Never." His voice panged through my ears as I awoke with a start. The security alarm blared and I sprang out of bed, dashing out of my room. At that moment, I thought of Tate, and how I ever so wished to apologize to him. I wanted to tell him all the crazy shit that's been going on, and how I wished he were with me right now in my time of panic. I ran to my parent's room as Mom frantically zoomed down the stairs. She then rushed back upstairs and picked up her cell phone.
"Hello, 911, someone broke into my house… Yes… Yes… No, my daughter is here, my husband is searching for the intruder… Yes…Yes… Thank you." Mom said into the phone. We stepped into my room and waited for Ben to come upstairs. If someone kills us tonight, I'd regret it more than ever because I would have fucking never seen Tate again. We finally heard footsteps outside the door. Mom peeked into a crack of the door and sighed.
"It's dad." She whispered. Mom opened the door and walked outside toward Ben.
"The police are on their way." She calmly declared.
"It's fine, it was only Addie." Ben replied, sounding tired. I finally fucking breathed and jumped into my bed, a wave of relief washing over me.
~The next day~
Ben left in the morning so I didn't see him leave. Goody. Mom was making breakfast as I came downstairs, prepared to go to school. I sat at the table as she cooked.
"Don't we have a maid for that?" I questioned.
"I like to cook sometimes, it's the least I can do after Moira made that delicious pot roast last night, the one you didn't even eat." Mom said. I rolled my eyes. The bitch was pissing me off purpose. Ha.
"Do you know why Tate isn't arriving for his appointments with dad?" I asked mom curiously.
"You mean that weird kid with the blonde hair?" Mom replied. I nodded.
"Your father canceled is appointments for some reason." She continued. My heart dropped. Why the fuck would he do that? This was my last chance of seeing him. I relied on his appointments. In my mind I was creating a mess, pulling out my hair, but in physical form, I just stood there, nodding.
"Well, I got to go, bye." I announced and stepped out the door.
~School~
After 5th period, I headed to my locker, rummaging around for my lighter so I could smoke before lunch. A clique of girls chatted behind me.
"Where's Leah? I haven't seen her much! Is she sick?" One girl asked eagerly with concern.
"Actually, I heard she's homeschooled now. It's sort of the new trend." Another girl answered casually.
"She is so ambitious." The other girl exclaimed.
"I know right? I was thinking of doing the same thing! Homeschooling is basically like school, but at the comfort of your own home, plus, you can be in your cute pajamas and maybe even have classes with your friends together instead of a nasty schedule!" Another girl squealed. I scoffed at their foolishness. They don't know shit. I grabbed my lighter and stuffed it in my bag. I decided to sit on the deserted bleachers above the track field of the school this time and sketched picture of a bird, which looked pretty damn realistic in my opinion.
"What's she doing here?" A jock asked as a bunch of his douche bag friends trailed behind him.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I scoffed, and put my sketchbook in my bag, getting ready to leave.
"Woah, slow down, new girl." The jock said, rubbing his hands together. What a cocky jackass.
"Why don't you and your girlfriends here let me through?" I questioned gingerly. The jock raised his eyebrows.
"What did you do to Leah?" The jock asked. So this must be Leah's gigolo boyfriend.
"I didn't do shit." I replied.
"Come on you little fuck up, we all know you did something to her. She's not answering my calls, nothing. Last time I saw her, she said she was going to your house." The jock protested.
"Get the fuck away from me." I ordered. I was royally pissed at them now. I fled down the bleachers, hoping I wouldn't trip. Dipshits. So that's what it's like to have people who care about you when you isolate yourself from the world.
I walked home, thinking of Tate. Where he was right now; and was he thinking of me too? A debate occurred in my mind. I stepped into the house and escaped to my room. I turned on The Ramones to full volume and laid my homework on my bed, although I did not plan on doing it.
"Turn down the volume!" Mom ordered from downstairs. I rolled my eyes and turned it down. Scanning my bookshelf, deciding what to read, I found The Stranger by Albert Camus. I lay on my bed and read, floating in paradise. Mom rudely interrupted my joy my knocking on the door. I looked up from my book. Can't I have one second of peace?
"I turned it down. What do you want?" I scowled.
"Can I come in?" She asked. I reluctantly got up from my bed and opened the door. What the hell was her problem now? She stood there, like a girl scout, holding a plate with a chocolate cupcake in both hands.
"Hi. Our kooky neighbor made you cupcakes." She greeted. Constance was kooky, that's for damn sure. I looked at the cupcake to find a violet on the top. Haha. Very fucking funny.
"Huh. A candied violet. That's clever." I said with sarcasm. I plopped on my bed and picked up my book again. Mom stepped into the room.
"Want to watch a movie? I figured since your dad's gone tonight, we can have a little girl's night." Mom asked as she placed he plate on my nightstand. Why was she bull shitting me? Does she think I'm a fucking idiot?
"Yeah, no thanks." I replied.
"Thought it might be fun to hang out." Mom wondered, sitting on my bed. I loved her, and liked talking to her, but she just seemed so pathetic to me at the moment. She was a fake, like everyone else. A naive little blind schoolgirl who will fuck her rapist. That's what I saw her as. And to think I thought she was being brave. Coward. I made up an excuse so I wouldn't have to have these thoughts on my mind any longer.
"Can't, homework." I implied.
"Are you mad at me about something?" She asked. Fuck, it must be her mom senses or some shit. It was time for her to come clean, no more bull shit. I've fucking had enough. I grabbed the cupcake plate and moved it toward her.
"Why don't you eat it? Since you're eating for two now. What. You think I'm stupid? You stopped drinking wine at dinner, and your gaining weight in your face." I said. She sheepishly smiled.
"I was gonna tell you tonight." Mom admitted.
"You know the statistics, when you have a baby over 40." I informed, raising my eyebrows.
"Yeah, I do." She replied, nodding.
"You wanna talk about it?" Mom questioned. Talk about it? There's nothing to talk about. No fucking thing.
"No thanks, I'm good." I returned to my book. Mom got up to leave. Finally, peace, at las- Mom was a fucking retard. Kissing Ben's ass, trying to fix their relationship. What bullshit. The baby? I could tell the baby its purpose in life was to help its dimwitted parent's relationship which obviously was going to fail in the end.
"Having a baby isn't going to keep you and Dad together, if that's what you're thinking." I declared. Mom threw her hands in the air.
"Wow, Violet. I am really appreciating your optimism on this. Really am." Mom exclaimed in a sarcastic tone.
"Come on, go ahead, say all your mean things." Mom encouraged. After everything I thought about her, everything that was on my mind, I put in one sentence that described my feelings towards the women I called mother.
"I think you're weak." I admitted my face stiff. Mom slowly nodded her head.
"Okay." She whispered, leaving the room. She shut the door behind her rather aggressively. I immediately grabbed the cupcake plate and put it in front of my door. I don't want that cliché piece of shit. I returned to my book.
~20 minutes later~
Mom was probably watching some cheap horror movie in the other room. A Carina Round song was playing in the background as I read my book. The doorbell chimed. Must be Constance or some shit. I ignorantly decided for mom to get the door and returned to my book. The doorbell chimed once more. For fucks sake, get the damn door. There was a consistent loud banging on the door that even I could hear from all the way upstairs. This fucking ruckus was hurting my head. Why did there need to always be an interruption?
"Violet! Violet! Answer me!" Mom yelled. What the hell was her deal? I just wanted some peace goddammit. I legitimately tried to keep my cool as I arrived to mom's muster. Was she really that desperate? Or did dad cheat on her again?
"How am I supposed to finish my homework if you keep interrupting?" I complained. Mom looked scared. Frightened, almost.
"What's the matter?" I questioned.
"Where's your phone?" Mom asked in a concerned frenzy.
"In my bag upstairs." I answered, confused.
"Go, go, go, go, get it. Dial 911." Mom ordered. The doorbell rang once more. Shit, was tonight a horror movie scene or something? My stomach rumbled with anxiety. Was someone trying to kill us?
"Who's that?" I questioned, fear accentuating my voice.
"Just go into your room, lock the door, don't come out until I tell you… now!" Mom pleaded. What the fuck was happening? I ran upstairs into my room. I obeyed mom and locked the door. My hands trembling, I scoured in my bag for my cell phone, Then emptied my bag, still rummaging around for it. It wasn't there. Then, everything went black.
"I woke up, tied to a chair, next to mom. 3 people stood in front of us with black masks on.
"I have money. Please, just take anything." Mom wailed. I felt like I was going to faint. Again. What was this?
"We're not here to rob you." A female voice explained behind the mask.
"Masks off." The same voice said. All three took off their masks, their faces visible to the eye. One was rather pretty, yet looked angry all the time. She had dull red hair and looked like the leader of the group. The other female had long messy blonde hair, and her eyes were big and dopey. The only male of the group had weird sharp teeth and a rough smoky voice.
"The transcript was very clear. The nurses say R. Franklin; he had nothing to hide." The redhead stated. She looked at her watch,
"12 minutes." The redhead said.
"Then the fun begins." The dopey-eyed woman sang.
"I have a surprise for you guys." The redhead said, grinning. I looked at mom cautiously. The redheaded woman fetched a white blanket and unwrapped it. A colorful bowl was uncovered. The man smiled.
"No way." He exclaimed.
"I got it on eBay. Authenticated. It's the one he used to bash Maria." The redheaded woman explained. The man looked at the bowl like it was the first time he ever saw boobs.
"Let me see it." He begged. The man cautiously grabbed it and examined the small bowl.
"Holy shit. Can feel the energy in this. This is bitchin'." The man squealed. The redhead rolled her eyes.
"Who goes first?" The dopey-eyed woman asked. Mom looked like she was going to cry. The redhead and the man got out knives.
"Which one is Gladys?" The dopey-eyed woman questioned with a sly smile. The red head pointed her knife at me. My heart stopped and my stomach curled and tightened. The dopey-eyed woman threw some white clothing shit at me. Hell no, I wasn't going to dress in this shit.
"Screw you, psycho! I'm not putting this on!" I shouted, throwing the clothes back.
"You have to. Everything has to be perfect." The dopey-eyed woman ordered in a crazed lunatic voice that was creepy as fuck. The man pounced at me,
"Take your clothes off!" He screamed as he tore my shirt halfway off, my bra showing.
"No!" I yelled. Mom screamed in horror as he did so.
"Put it on me!" Mom sacrificed with tears in her eyes.
"Oh, you'll both be wearing uniforms. R. Franklin hated nurses. He had a bad experience with the mercury in a broken thermometer. That's why he took Gladys upstairs and drowned her in the tub. And you Maria- he saved you for last." The redhead explained.
"R. Franklin was the first. Before Manson. He changed the culture. We're paying tribute to him." The dopey-eyed girl said with hope in her voice.
"We're not going to be a part of your reenactment." Mom said, shaking her head calmly. The redhead dropped the nurse clothes at me once more.
"Put this on. You won't like it if I have to make you." The redheaded woman ordered. I was free of rope, and needed to generate an escape plan quickly in my mind. I fumbled with the nurse clothes awhile, and then used my head to bash the redhead's forehead, causing her to fall over. I dashed, and ran as fast as I could to Ben's office, until I felt someone grab me and pulled me into a corner. I screamed in fear until I realized who it was. It was Tate. He pressed me against the wall. What the fuck was he doing here? Whatever the reason was, I was so fucking glad he was here. I wanted to apologize to hug him, maybe even kiss him, but it wasn't the time. I held on to his sweater, my hands clinging to his waist.
"Tate, they're trying to kill me and my mom!" I hesitantly exclaimed with a hushed voice.
"You have to get them to the basement." He ordered in a soft voice. God, I loved seeing his amazing face again.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I rapidly spat, remembering the incident with Leah.
"The basement! Just do it!" He quickly said, and stepped back." The redheaded woman found me and threw me out of the room. They dragged me upstairs to the bathroom, and I changed into the nurse's outfit in fear, although on the outside, I was emotionless. The man stayed downstairs with mom. I hoped she was alright. The basement, the basement. How the fuck do I get them down there? Their reenactment. It was everything to them. It had to be perfect. I quickly improvised a plan in my head. After I finished changing, I was convinced it might work. I grabbed the nurse socks and started putting them on as the bath water filled the tub.
"What's taking you so long?" The redheaded woman asked cruelly.
"So, are these vintage?" I questioned, trying to get to the conversation of my plan.
"Nurses' catalogue." The redhead answered casually. The dopey-eyed woman came into the bathroom eating some shit. It was the cupcake Constance made for me.
"Really? You're eating?" The redhead strictly questioned.
"It was like, sitting there, saying, "Eat me."" The dopey-eyed woman answered, her mouth full of cupcake. The redhead's face was angry and full of heat. She turned to me.
"Step on it! Time's a-wastin', sister!" The redheaded woman screamed to me. The whole time, I was thinking about Mom, what was happening to her? I was supposed to be drowned, what happened to her? R. Franklin saved Maria for last. Was he going to rape her? I shivered at the thought.
"Tell me what's going on downstairs." I ordered. They fucking ignored me.
"Did you get all the cell phones?" The redhead asked. They stole my phone. Bitches.
"Yeah, I told you, the one in the kitchen and… Ooh, stomachache." The dopey-eyed woman slurred as her stomach growled furiously.
"Answer me! What's he doing to my mother?" I repeated, yelling this time.
"Jesus, I'm gonna shit myself." The dopey-eyed woman whined.
"Not in the staging area!" The redheaded woman yelled.
"Just, don't start without me." The dopey-eyed woman pleaded as she slowly stepped out of the door. The redhead was distracted. I bolted passed her, but she caught me, pointing a knife at my neck.
"Are you kidding me?" The redheaded woman questioned, eyebrows raised. She checked her watch.
"It's 10:57. Get in the tub." She ordered. This was my chance. My chance to execute my plan. The redhead grabbed my arm and forced me into the bathtub, the water cool against my skin. I stood in there, waiting to speak as the redhead yelled out the door,
"Bianca, it's almost time!" She turned back to me.
"You have to put someone under water for three minutes until they lose consciousness. The brain begins to die from oxygen deprivation." The redheaded woman explained. I had enough of her bull shit, I wanted to get her in the basement. I was losing time. I laughed merrily, seeing the confusion and suspicion in her face.
"This is funny to you?" The woman asked.
"What's funny is how you think you know everything about this house, and clearly you know nothing. This isn't even the right tub." I stated, a goofy smile plastered on my face.
"Second floor bathroom. I-I studied the crime scene photos." She protested.
"The one he used is in the basement. We totally remodeled this bathroom." I explained, looking around the dull white restroom.
"You think I'm gonna fall for that?" The woman asked aggressively. I had to convince her, I just had to.
"It's a grimy claw-foot tub with a chrome faucet. Go look." I improvised. The redhead sighed and stepped out the door.
"Bianca?!" The redhead shouted. Bingo. I tricked her. She grabbed my arm and dragged it, I got out of the tub.
"Come on, lead me." The woman ordered, poking a knife to my back. I opened the basement door and turned on the lights. We stepped down the creaky stairs as she kept threatening to poke my back with her dagger. I winced as she almost did. We finally got to the basement floor.
"You'd better not be messing with me." She said, looking around.
"It's down here, around the corner." I explained calmly. The lights flickered off and the woman screamed,
"Where are you?" I felt wrinkly hands hold my shoulders, bringing me into a corner. It was the maid, Moira.
"Violet, you must get your mother and run away from this house. Run away as far as you can. Tate will take care of it." Moira explained, desperate and quick.
"You know Tate?" I questioned.
"Run Violet, run." Moira repeated. I nodded and ran upstairs. I opened the door and saw mom running towards me.
"Violet!" She screamed with relief. We both ran out the door, past Constance's house, bolting through the neighborhood.
"Help! Somebody help us! Call the police! Help!" Mom screamed as we ran into the darkness of the night.
~The next day~
The police showed up at our house the next day, interrogating and inspecting the situation. Mom and Ben were talking to the interrogators as I walked down the stairs, into the dining room where they both sat. Ben walked up toward me.
"Violet, your mom said that you told her that Tate helped you escape?" Ben questioned calmly.
"Yeah. Thanks for not dragging him into all that."I replied. Tate saved our lives. If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be here. I was so fortunate he was there. I think I, maybe, just maybe, had feelings for him. I liked him, ok fine I'll admit. He was always there for me, to protect me. Unlike Ben, that fucker, who was never there for his family. That fucking fake. Mom was kickass, strong. She wasn't weak, she was in control. Mom showed me that last night. In the police station, she told me that Ben was a dick, and he wasn't there for us anymore. She was calling the shots now. I'm fucking proud of her. I hope it stays that way.
"What was he doing in the house?" Ben asked suspiciously. I shrugged.
"How should I know? I said.
"Violet…" Ben replied. Classic. He thinks I did it. That I broke the fucking rules and let him in. Asshole.
"You think I let him in? I don't know why Tate was here, but I'm glad he was. You weren't." I admitted. It was true. Screw Ben. I wanted to find Tate. I started to leave the room as Ben stood there, his face full of sorrow. I turned on my heel, and decided to tell mom what she deserved, right in Ben's fucking face.
"You were really brave, Mom." I told her. She smiled gingerly. I looked at Ben and his disappointed expression. Ha. He deserves this shit. I stepped back into my room to find Tate sitting on my bed.
"Tate… How'd you get here?" I questioned.
"I snuck in, I wanted to see how you were doing." Tate explained, softly grinning. I smiled back and sat on the bed next to him.
"I'm sorry Tate. I-I guess I was just, freaked out with all that shit that happened with Leah and the basement and all." I apologized, looking at him.
"What were you doing in my house last night?" I finally asked, hoping that his answer was to see me.
"I was at your house last night because I wanted to apologize of what happened in the basement, and I heard screaming, and the door was unlocked so I decided to see what was happening." Tate admitted. He stared back at me. We gazed at each other for what seemed like fucking forever.
"I-I want to thank you. If you weren't there, me and my mom might be dead." I said. He grinned. Our fingers entangled as we held hands. I rested my head on his shoulder and I knew, right now, this was where I wanted to be.
AN: And that's the end of Chapter 3! I hope you like it guys ^_^ Please leave reviews, each one counts! I'm not posting Chapter 4 until I get enough! Next chapter will for sure have a lot more of Violate, so be ready for that. I'm doing my best to try to make their relationship right now not as cliché. I'll try to post next week! REMEMBER TO LEAVE REVIEWS, I REALLY APPRECIATE THEM AND I LOOVE YEW GUYSS!