AN: Hey guys, I missed you. I'm sorry about the chapter delay, as I'm writing this, I'm in the middle of different exams and stuff so I've been preoccupied lately. This chapter will be episode 3, "Murder House", and episode 4, "Halloween p.1" because episode 3 only has 2 scenes with Violet in them. There definitely will be all the Violate in this so yay! I hope you enjoy, feel free to leave a review, I won't post chapter 5 until I get enough. Love you guys!
Chapter 4
Thank the fucking lord I don't have to go to school today. Ben told me I could stay home today because of the break-in fiasco that happened. They say that the three invaders were obsessed with famous murders and all that shit. I'm glad they're gone, but where did they go? I wonder what Tate did to them. Maybe he "scared" them again. At least they deserved it. I randomly threw on a sweater and some dark plum tights. I had the day to myself, there was plenty of unnecessary shit to do. The only downside is that I don't know if Tate is coming back. After all, his sessions with Ben are canceled. Last time I saw him, He noted he might be back. Might. This was so immature and childish. Huh. It was a stupid little girl fantasy crush I was experiencing. That's all, nothing much. I analyzed my vast bookshelf, grazing my fingertips softly over each spine of each novel. I finally selected The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Although I've read this millions of times, it only seemed appropriate since I had no fucking thing to do, and at least the book could entertain me a bit. I turned on my iPod to full blast and Wonder boy by The Kinks started playing. I sagged into my bed, my posture horrible as always, reading and listening.
After a few hours of listening to The Kinks and The Ramones I heard a loud thumping on my window. Cautiously, I opened my wretched blinds and looked out. There he was, Tate, standing there with a big fucking goofy grin on his face. I smiled back eagerly. I couldn't help it, I probably looked like Rapunzel or some shit, 'waiting for her prince to save her'. Ugh, Give me a break. Although my dad was distraught at Tate for some reason and wouldn't like Tate in the house, I let Tate in anyways because 'fuck parent's policies'. I knew Ben was having a session with some woman and Mom was in the garden so I basically had the whole house to myself. Tate slowly entered my room, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey." I greeted.
"Why are you here and not at school? Did you go today?" Tate questioned.
"No, my mom let me stay home." I replied, sitting on the floor. Tate sat across from me and said,
"I like your mom. She's nice. Your dad-"
"Is an asshole? Yeah, I already knew that." I interrupted, fiddling with my hands.
"I was going to say that he was nice too. It's not every day you have someone who looks out for you, and cares about you." Tate explained with sentiment in his voice, yet his tone gruff and squirmy.
"Ben doesn't care. He's not there for me when I need him the most. He doesn't give a rat's ass about this family." I replied quietly.
"The reason he ended his sessions with me is because he doesn't want you to get hurt. He cares Violet. Maybe he's not there for you, but he cares." Tate persisted. I thought about this for a moment. Tate's face was genuine and soft. He seemed like he wasn't kidding. I hated Ben because he cheated on my mom, he betrayed the family. I didn't trust him, I didn't like him. Sure, maybe he was sorry. Yet, he was sorry about the miscarriage, and how did that turn out? Sometimes I wonder if the demons in my visions at night are Ben, but no, they're me. I always ask myself, where do I stand in this parade of disaster? Am I the moody teenage dirt bag? Am I the victim in this story? Or am I just watching on the sidelines as life goes by? Maybe I'm the villain. I have to accept that Ben is not going to change in any way; he's torn with who he is, and who he wants to be. No, I don't forgive him. But I can never let go of him, no matter how lost I am.
"Tate, why are you seeing my dad?" I finally asked.
"You already know." Tate replied with a sullen, insecure tone.
"I mean, why do you need to go to him in the first place? Is it because of your dad leaving?" I beckoned. Tate sighed and I immediately regretted asking him. He looked so unsure and anxious. Shit. Finally I found someone and I'm probably going to lose them due to my big fucking blabber mouth. Just great.
"My mom. She's the reason. She's the real one who doesn't care. She says I'm supposed to be her perfect goddamn son. All she cares about is impression, appearance. Not once has she cared for me. Not fucking once. She treats her kids like tools. Tools she can manipulate." He explained, his face emotionless, looking at the ground. I realized I haven't actually breathed the whole time he talked about his mom. I huffed a deep breath and moved closer to him..
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I apologized. Tate has it worst than me. Way worse.
"No, don't apologize. You understand, don't you? You know what it's like, to feel like you can't do shit right. To feel like you've failed in existing." Tate said his voice clearer and less ambiguous. I slowly nodded my head and gazed at his limitless pool of supple chocolate brown eyes. He was fucking perfect. No single flaw on his face could be detected.
"Sometimes, I feel like the problems we have will go away, like we'll finally be able to actually live again. But it always fucking comes back to haunt you, like a prison you can't escape, an infinite sea that your drowning in and you can never swim away from, like you can't do shit to solve your problems." I admitted.
"That's why I see your dad. My mom wants me to escape my problems, but like you said, there's this 'infinite sea' I'm drowning in. My mom's the sea, and I'm the helpless dying fish." Tate explained in a hushed undertone.
"Is that why you hurt yourself? You mutilate yourself? Because you're stuck in the prison?" Tate questioned with a crackly voice as sorrow and pain replenished his attitude. I've asked myself this question several times, more than I can imagine. I know the answer.
"I cut because-because I've been trapped in this hellhole of a planet for so long, I don't feel real anymore. I need to see my own blood to know I'm real. I need to feel pain to know I'm alive. I can't keep up with the world around me, and once I catch up, I go insane. I need to let the insanity out. All these emotions hidden behind an emotionless mask, I free myself from the craziness and the lunacy. I let it out, and the pain soon becomes numb. It becomes a distraction of all the bullshit occurring." I confessed. I was too busy blabbering on about my trashy explanation for self-harm, I didn't notice Tate had stood up. I imitated him by standing up too. I never noticed how tall he was. I was about 5'4, and he was like 5'10. I liked being shorter than him, It made me feel protected and safe. I averted my eyes to his face as tears streamed down his porcelain cheeks. He wasn't those cringe-worthy ugly criers; his face was sad and stiff as the tears rolled down like marbles, one by one.
"Tate…" I muttered.
"Violet-"He said as Tate swiftly pulled me towards him. We embraced, my face snuffling into his shoulder. His arms concealed around me, making me feel secure. I think I was falling in love with Tate, I really was. He seemed like the only person who knew what I was going through, and I seemed to be the only person to know what he was going through too. For fucks sake, why can't I control my emotions? This isn't some miracle, some fairytale! I'm going to end up falling for someone who doesn't love me back. Then I'll be alone, again. Feelings are such a waste of time. Goddammit, emotions, stop it! I wish love was never invented. Such a shit show this was, such a cliché. I feel like I've been zapped into a sappy romance novel. I broke off the hug and Tate wiped his final tear with his baggy sleeve.
"Wanna do something?" Tate questioned, his voice more positive and optimistic.
"Sure." I replied. Tate grinned with is cute ass dimples again. I softly smiled back.
"Wait here." Tate eagerly ordered. I nodded. He exited the room. After a minute went by, Tate came back with a Scrabbles board. We sat on the floor and played Scrabbles for about an hour.
"How's school going?" Tate asked.
"I hate it there. All full of dipshits and assholes. Especially Leah's boyfriend. He keeps following me around, taunting me. He won't fuck off."
"Why don't you just not go?" Tate questioned.
"My mom. She wants me to go to school, get a good education, have a good life. I wish I could just leave this place, run away." I explained.
"Why would you want to run away?" Tate asked.
"Because this goddamn place is making me crazy. Trust me, I like this house. But, maybe if I ran away, I could escape all the bullshit." I chuckled, thinking in my mind, Maybe you and me could run away together. Please, who would want to spend they're sorry lives with me? But then again, what if Tate and I did run away together, never looking back? Would I finally be happy?
"If you ran away, then I would never see you again." Tate replied sourly, looking down at the ground.
"What the hell does that mean? You could come with me, leave your mom." I encouraged. He shook his head.
"I have to take care of my brother and sister. I can't leave them." He explained. I nodded with understanding.
"I guess it's just me then." I whispered. There's a fucking time bomb in me, ticking. I have a craving to escape my life, I hate my life. I've been five days clean, Tate helped me accomplish that, but all I can do is think about cutting. Because right now, that's my escape. I want to run away.
"Do you ever think about ending it? Ending everything? Like you feel like that's your only option?" I asked unobtrusively.
"Do you?" He replied.
"Sometimes. But, I never seriously considered it." I answered. I'm so fucking stupid. Why am I telling him all of my sob stories and sad shit? Why would I ever consider the fact he cares? Am I just some wounded dove to him?
"I think about it all the time. I want to go somewhere where there's no reason to fall apart. No reason to break. Somewhere clean. Of course that's all a myth." Tate admitted, his voice crimson smooth with negative desire emphasized.
"Last time I met Leah, she asked me if I believed in the devil. Do you?" I questioned.
"Hard to say. Depends on what her purpose for asking was." Tate answered rapidly, like he was trying to change the subject of the conversation.
"Let's go outside. It's getting to depressing here." I suggested.
"I never knew you were an outdoor person." Tate chuckled as he put away the Scrabbles board.
"Like you're any different." I teased. Tate laughed. I grabbed my pack of Marlboro cigs and stuffed it in my pocket, grabbing my lighter as well.
"Ah!" Tate screamed behind me, causing me to subliminally jump.
"Shithead!" I yelled at him, laughing. Tate held my hands, and leaned his forehead against mine.
"Violet…" He slurred.
"Tate…" I imitated. He softly chortled and backed away, sitting on my bed. I walked over to him.
"What the hell do you want to say? I don't have all day." I teased.
"Violet, I really like you. A lot." He admitted. My heart erupted. Did he feel all the shitty feelings I had too? My mind was working like a treadmill. Anarchy and chaos filled my head. Did Tate like me back? By the sound of it, maybe so. I decided to be honest with him.
"I like you too." I replied. A big goofy smile plastered on Tate's face, his dimples wide and sharp. I smiled back. This instantly made everything better. For the moment, at least.
"Hope my dad doesn't bust us, my mom doesn't care though." I said quietly as we walked out the kitchen door to our front porch where we both sat ourselves at a brick column. I could see mom watering her cheap shitty flowers in the distance. I put a cigarette to my mouth and lighted it up, inhaling and exhaling. A glossy black bus filled with people stopped at our house. The bus said "Eternal Darkness Tour" on the side of it. The bus moved at a slow pace, and a big man in glasses with a voice that sounded like a cartoon character stood up with a microphone in his hands.
"And our next stop on our tour of departed souls, the gem of mid-town: Murder House." The man announced, the bus coming to a complete stop. Several of the people in the seats gazed at the house in fascination, some even took pictures.
"It's a shock that they chose a fat ass like him for the 'Eternal Darkness Tour', because he just looks so damn scary." I sarcastically joked. Tate chuckled. I inhaled my cig once more, watching the smoke slowly entangle into the wind until it vanished. There was a nearby clatter and a wrap of sudden hesitation shot me in the head as Tate hid in the bushes. I rapidly put out my cigarette, hoping my breath wasn't too strong with the scent. Ben carried a blue bucket as he walked towards me, humming some shitty tune. His face was dull and serious. I leaned back on the rough, grainy brick wall, praying that Tate wouldn't move so Ben wouldn't catch us. He sniffed the air and my stomach dropped. Busted.
"Relax, I'm not here to bust you." Ben explained calmly and softly, as if I was his patient or some shit. Ben hated me smoking, what the fuck was this? Why was he acting so damn nice all of a sudden?
"Why not?" I questioned suspiciously.
"Because what you guys went through last week can haunt you for a long time." He replied, his tone gentle and comforting. So this is what the shrink is doing. He's trying to make up for not being there for me. Please, I don't need the faux sentiment.
"Seriously Dad, I'm fine. It'll make a great college essay one day." I claimed. I always fucking used the whole "college" excuse with him. I've had straight A's every year, except this one. Of course my dad has high expectations for me in college; it'll probably be the happiest moment of his life. Its fun to play with him, tell him something he likes, to dilute his mind from any negative thoughts about me. The daughter tricking the psychologist. What a fucking knock-off. Hell, its 2011, they'll let anyone into college these days. Ben grinned and seemed satisfied. How gullible.
"Ok. But if you ever want to talk to somebody…" Ben suggested.
"Dad-"I interrupted.
"I mean, not me. You know, I'm way too expensive." Ben joked. His jokes were becoming lamer and lamer. I smiled for his approval; hopefully this was the end of our conversation.
"But we can find you someone." Ben said. Does he think I need therapy or some shit? Seriously, I'm not fucking Lisa from Girl Interrupted.
"Okay, thanks. I'll think about it." I replied. Don't get your hopes up. He nodded and left. After a few seconds, Tate peeked over the brick wall to see if he was gone, and returned to his position across from me.
"He's a great dad. He really cares. You're lucky like that." Tate said. I grabbed another cigarette and put it to my lips, leaning towards Tate. He lighted me up, the taint of fire dancing from the lighter. I inhaled and exhaled the heavy simmering smoke. He smiled, and I couldn't help but grin back.
~ A few days later~
"Violet, get in the car." Mom ordered.
"Where are we going anyways? Why can't dad come with you?" I complained, shutting the car door, sitting beside mom.
"We are going to find a temporary home." Mom announced." Finding a temporary home? What the fuck does that mean?
"Temporary?" I asked, angry and confused.
"We're moving out of the house, starting over, after that terrible break-in." Mom explained, enunciating the word "terrible". Is she fucking kidding me? Unfair is an understatement for this situation. How can you start over again when there's nothing to start over? When Mom said she would be in control, I didn't think she would mean that way. My current sanity rippled. How the hell did this break-in cause mom to think it's the house's fault? I stared out the window in bottled frustration, looking at nothing but buildings, roads and cars, building, roads, and cars. How dare she. Our house is the only thing that satisfies me in this atrocious place. Tate was always around, spirits of the dead lingered in the hallways, dark and ghastly bolts from the blue were around every corner. Dips and drops every which way, living in the house was like riding on an anticipating roller coaster."You're never going to escape it, are you?" I questioned sourly.
"Escape what?" Mom groaned, realizing I was about to state my "cruel" opinions again.
"You think that moving out of Boston was going to solve you and dad's relationship. You wanted to escape his betrayal didn't you? Obviously, your attempt at fleeing away hasn't succeeded. Now you're going to leave again because of a traumatic experience instead of facing your fears? Bullshit. You're just going to keep and running and running away into infinity because you can't escape. Stop having hope that you can. You're going to be caged in your destruction for eternity. You can't run away, because that imaginary black cloud will always be over your head. Stop running, you won't escape." I spat with passion. Mom huffed and squirmed in her driver seat. I, on the other hand, was stiff and sat tensely.
"Violet, I'm not being selfish and doing this just for me, I'm doing this for everyone…" Mom calmly claimed.
"I never said you were selfish. But now you mention it-"I replied.
"Violet, we are not going to argue over this. My decision is final." Mom declared firmly. I slouched in my seat, and looked out the window again. Anger bubbled and boiled in my stomach, ready to fucking burst out of my big blabber mouth. As if she had read my mind, mom strictly ordered,
"We aren't going to speak of this nonsense again." I rolled my eyes. For fucks sake woman, why can't she make sense for once? We arrived at the show home and got out of the car. The humid California air coated the scenery as the blaring sun blinded our eyes. Mom strutted up to the show home, her rusty dusk purse dangling from her wrist like those snooty couture ladies. The house was full of cheap show home shit. A woman with an exotic colorful crop top and a big fucking fake tan toured with us around the house. There was nothing special about that hell hole. After the tedious tour around the small house, we walked out of the house and the woman told us the price; which was way under our budget. Mom seemed utterly content. I, on the other hand, was completely the opposite.
"Anyways, so I mentioned on the phone that the carpet will be steamed before move-in." The woman explained, opening the door to the house once more.
"There's a dock there for your iPod or iWhatever." The woman pointed to a small murky dock. Mom eagerly roamed around the room once more while I dragged my feet across it.
"I'll tell you what I do like; I like that security guy at the door…" Mom acknowledged. There had to be some way to persuade her to stay in the house.
"Excuse me. Can my mom and I have a moment? Alone?" I questioned with cool, collected eyes. This was a technique I learned to make people think you're normal.
"Sure. I'll be in the rental office." The woman accepted, setting her realtor clipboard on the oval glass table in the center of the dank, enclosed house.
"I've got someone else coming in 20 minutes." The woman added before closing the door.
"Glad we moved all the way to California, since we could be totally anywhere." I exclaimed in a sarcastic tone. Mom shrugged and said,
"I think it has a certain-"
"You and Dad, both of you- you don't deal with anything. The affair, the miscarriage. For most people that's just life and they deal. But you guys had to uproot everything- drag everyone across the country to start all over." I scorned with resentment in my voice.
"Honey, I don't think you've quite processed what happened to us in that house. That was devastating. That was a nightmare." Mom explained with dejection.
"This place is the nightmare. I love our house, it's got soul. It's where you and I kicked some ass, Mom. You say we were victims of something bad here, I say that's the place where we survived." I admitted. Hopefully, I was finally getting to her. I needed to pick that tiny, mindless, dumbfound brain of hers. My face was actually showing some real emotion for once. Funny. Hopefully that would do the trick.
"I love that you see it that way. I'm pregnant. I can't stay there. This is the decision that your father and I have made for our family together." Mom elucidated with fake optimism. Bullshit. This was all utter bullshit, every word that dropped out of her mouth.
"Yeah, whatever. But I'm telling you, go ahead with this whacked out plan, and I'm out of here. I will run away. And believe me, I know how to leave, so you will never find me." I threatened calmly, the firmness in my vowels sharp as a dagger. I had to threaten, it's the only way. I can't believe I executed my whole "running away" cliché. As if things were bad enough. I needed some luck for once in my life, some actual providence. Mom looked astonished, eyebrows raised, with those tinted grainy forehead wrinkles coming out to play. I turned on my heel, shutting the door behind me, not even daring to look back.
~A few days later~
Halloween. What a torturous time of drama queens in skimpy skirts having the dignity to think that they're scary. Please, they think that Chucky is the most frightening thing in the world. Sometimes I don't get them. Scratch that, I never fucking get them. October 31st is also the precious moments in a young horny teenager's life when they think that they're finally going to lose their virginity due to some "sexy" kitty cat costume. What bullshit. I remember when Ben would always dress me up in a "scary" costume to impress the neighbors, his friends on FaceBook, and basically anyone who gave a fuck about that cheesy appearance. I sauntered down the throng of students in the halls, passing by unknown faces that I didn't care to know. Although, there was one face I unfortunately knew, who was approaching towards me like an avalanche. Leah's gigolo boyfriend. He shoved and propelled several bystanders as he hurdled through the swarm of students. There was an angry weal on the center of his nose. It looked swelled and throbbing, like a Mr. Potato Head nose was attached to his face.
"You!" He howled in anger.
"What the fuck do you want now?" I asked sadistically.
"Explain this." Leah's boyfriend ridiculed as he pointed to the inflamed injury on his nose bridge.
"I had nothing to do with that." I denied.
"Oh really?" He questioned putting his hands in his jersey coat pockets. He slowly, yet firmly stalked around me, like a puma stalking its prey.
"Answer me this, last night I was with a couple of friends, having beer and celebrating at 12:00 because it was finally Halloween. Then this guy comes out of fucking nowhere and punches me in the fucking face! At first we just thought he wanted our money, but no. After he finished beating my ass, you know what he said? You know what the fuck he said? He said; 'That was for Violet.'" Leah's boyfriend fumed.
"I didn't have anything to do with that." I hesitated. I didn't tell anyone about Leah's boyfriend except Tate. I was sure of it. For fucks sake, I knew Tate just wanted to protect me, but this is just making it worse. Leah's boyfriend chuckled.
"I'm gonna make your life a living hell." He assured.
"We'll see about that." I snapped, and strode away. It was Halloween, I could have the whole fucking night to myself, listening to music and giving out shitty candy to kids. I didn't have time for this nonsense.
~At home~
I gawked at my house which was completely festooned with Halloween props and figures. Smoke machines, jack-o-lanterns, scarecrows and cornstalks were displayed. I walked up to Mom and Ben, who were admiring their adorned Halloween house.
"What's all this?" I asked, confused. My family never went this far to participate in Halloween.
"We're making the house look nice for potential buyers." Ben explained eagerly. He was dressed in a cheap vampire costume and smiled with pride as he showed off his shitty vampire teeth. Mom, on the other hand, was dressed casually as a witch, the sleek dark velvet dress made her look like Morticia Addams, and her pointy dramatic hat completed the look.
"You're still trying to sell the house?" I groaned with irritation in my voice.
"Yes Violet, in fact we are. Now I suggest you should at least try to help and dress up too." Mom replied.
"I'm too old for this bullshit." I murmured and got the hell out of that family-freak-show-fest.
It soon became dark outside and I roamed arbitrarily around my room to the beat of the music that was playing. I looked into the mirror, which was something I hardly did. The reflection of myself repulsed me to the very core, I almost shivered. When I was younger, kids would always call me ugly; I never thought I was one of those pretty girls that I saw in Mom's magazines. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and studied my facial features carelessly, wondering what the hell Tate saw in me. I also admired my miraculous The Kinks shirt I sported, carelessly analyzing what I would look like without my long sleeve shirt I wore underneath to hide my scars. There was a crack of rustling coming from behind me and I cautiously turned around. There was something under my fucking bed. My heart was pounding, nonstop. I pulled my hair back and imprudently checked underneath until something grabbed my right ankle. Terror flowed through my veins as I shrieked and jumped back. I turned to look at my purposive "attacker". It was Adelaide. I should have fucking known, the brat comes lurking in the house all the time.
"Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat." Adelaide sang merrily.
"Addy!" I scowled.
"I want to be a pretty girl for Halloween." Adelaide declared vigorously. My heart stopped. The poor bitch was just like me. It was impossible to be a pretty girl, believe me, I've tried. Been there, done that.
"You want what?" I questioned.
"Make me a pretty girl like you, Violet." She pleaded. Flattered, my cheeks were decorated a faint ruby red. Was I someone's expectations of appearance? This had never happened before. Maybe Addy wasn't so bad after all. I smiled at her as she smiled back.
~A few minutes later~
The Kinks riffed in the background pleasantly as I dipped Mom's brush in the deep coral blue eye shadow once more, and applied in on Adelaide's eye lids.
"I'm actually not very good at this." I admitted, doing the best I can from what I saw most girls at school do.
"I'll like it." Addy assured as she gazed into the mirror in approval.
"Close your eyes." I ordered politely. The brush lathered her eyelids once more.
"How old are you Addy?" I questioned.
"A lady never reveals her age." She replied, holding her index finger in the air. I would have been crazy if I didn't think she was imitating Constance. I smirked.
"Is Tate your boyfriend?" She questioned. It seemed like everyone in the area fucking knew who Tate was. Never thought he was so popular.
"Wait. You know Tate?" I asked.
"I talk to him when he comes here for his head shrinking. He likes you. I can tell. He thinks you're a pretty girl." Adelaide explained. I smiled gingerly, and coated her cheeks with blush.
"Are you a virgin?" Adelaide questioned with a dramatic spike of curiosity.
"Yes." I replied, making my tone sound obvious.
"Aren't you?" I asked skeptically.
"Hell no." She answered. I grinned and took off Adelaide's shitty headband, adding the final touches to her "pretty girl" look.
"You can't keep breaking into our house Addy." I said, remembering, it's not going to be our house for long. I brushed her bangs, grazing them to the side.
"But I like it here. My friends are here." She protested. Friends? What the fuck does she mean? Addy gaped into the mirror with enthrallment.
"Wow! Violet, I'm beautiful!" She exclaimed. She turned around to me and beamed.
"I have to go show my mom!" Addy squealed with joy. I chortled with appeal as she flounced out of the room. After reading and listening to music for a while, I roamed around my room once again to the beat of the music, waiting for kids to ring the doorbell for candy. My eyes averted to my chalkboard. Something peculiar was written on it in big muddled letters:
MEET ME IN THE BASEMENT AT MIDNIGHT.
-TATE
I smirked at the charming, yet uncanny invitation. How did that little shit sneak in to my room? An obscure midnight disembarked as I opened the creaky basement door and stepped down the grimy ancient stairs.
"Tate?" I bided, walking onto the basement floor from the last grating step.
"You said you wanted to meet at midnight. Come out, come out, where ever you are." I commanded creepily like in those horror movies with eerie young children like alabaster dolls. As I wandered curtly throughout the basement, a dark, sleek, chilling figure stood in the corner off the room. It was the rubber sex toy suit. I gasped, my head felt heavy and petrified, and my heart was pumping fear into every inch of my appalled body. I turned around to escape when the thing in the suit stood right behind me, and used its rubber intoxicated hand to cover my mouth. I struggled and screamed, snapping and propelling my attacker. Once my attacker in the rubber suit pushed me to the rails of the stairs, his grip around me weakened and he started chuckling over the muffled mask. Goddammit, it was just fucking Tate. While Tate was bawling with laughter, I threw my head back and sighed of relief.
"You asshole!" I yelled, pushing him back. Still snickering, he pulled of the glossy black rubber mask. Seeing his smile instantly made my heart flutter.
"I scared you." He teased.
"No, you didn't." I protested playfully. In the suit, he looked sort of hot to be honest. His hair was rugged and messy, and the suit that coated his skin was seamlessly perfect around his body.
"Where'd you get this thing? My dad threw it out." I questioned, still panting from clandestine fear.
"Finders keepers." Tate purred. He leaned forward and kissed me. He fucking kissed me. My skin was covered in goose bumps within seconds. My heart plunged and emotions spewed out of it, hitting me in the face. I distributed all my passion and craving for this dangerous, wild boy as we made contact. As of Tate, he gave me bliss on the lips, a tunnel of forever contentment. He tasted of cigarettes and honey, a whirlwind of infatuation, right on my mouth. This experience was foreign and grand, as if I've been swallowed into ecstasy. I could feel his breath panting against me, and I certainly was doing the same due to shock and ardor. The kiss was powerful and intense, yet short and effortless. As we pulled away, I looked up at his gleaming eyes and felt like I was weightless, practically on cloud 9.
"Really, I didn't scare you?" Tate questioned.
"I said no." I replied.
"I bet I can." Tate chanced.
As Tate changed out of the tight rubber suit, I smoked my cigarette in the dark. The fumes of tobacco crawled satisfyingly inside my nose as I exhaled. I always thought smoke looked like it was dancing, mingling with thin air, and embracing a dance partner that was never really there. What a weird thought. Tate came back fully dressed, carrying a board and some candles in his hands. He planted the board on the small table that lay abandoned in the basement, along with the candles. It was an Ouija board that was positioned in front of me. I've seen these things before, read about them before, but never took the risk of doing it on my own. It was a waste of time anyways; ghosts and spirits were all bullshit. I situated my fingers on the board as Tate lit the red murky candle.
"You have to put your fingers on the other side." He ordered.
"I don't believe in that shit." I scoffed and shrugged in my chair, putting out my halfway burnt cig.
"Charles is going to answer all your questions. He used to live here. Tate sang eagerly.
"Is Charles going to tell me what happened to those assholes who tried to kill us? What'd you do to them?" I blurted unintentionally. This issue had been chained to my mind for some time now, and I felt relieved to say it out loud. Especially since I could trust Tate, our relationship was stronger now? I'm actually not so sure where it was going, who was going to make the first move, or were we really dating. I basically assumed we were dating like the brainless bitch I am.
"I told you, I didn't do anything. I had some help." He claimed. Moira? Was she the help? No pun intended of course. Tate's hands placed mine across from his on the board. Physical contact from him made my stomach feel woozy and lovesick inside. This reaction was new, and I didn't exactly like it. I reminisced the last time I was struck with horror in this very place; Tate never had given me the candor I had expected. I came to the conclusion myself that he had used a mask or a realistic costume for that mutated monster whom had harmed Leah, but something in my gut wasn't right about that theory. I felt the same awful presence I had felt the day when the monster had appeared: uneasy, squirmy, cold and hot at the same time, and ill at ease. I needed answers, answers that I was supposed to receive a long fucking time ago.
"What's in this basement? I want the truth." I questioned firmly, the candle flickering on my face, swaying as if it was buffering on a screen.
"What I'm about to tell you might scare you… to death." Tate clarified sinisterly, fucking full on dramatic like in some cheesy-ass horror cliché.
"I can take it." I assured, smirking with irony.
"Dr. Charles Montgomery built this house. And here in his basement is where he worked. Charles was a doctor to the stars, But was also was a drug addict, and his wife Nora wasn't gonna let that get in the way of her lifestyle. So she set up a little secret side business; he would take care of girls who didn't want to be in trouble anymore. This went on until one day, one girl couldn't keep the secret to herself, and she told her boyfriend what happened. The boyfriend wanted revenge, so he kidnapped Charles' and Nora's baby. Terrified, the doctor and his wife waited for the ransom demands. One unfaithful day, the couple was visited by policeman, who had found their baby's dead body and delivered it to their doorstep. Driven insane by grief, the doctor used all his experience and surgical skills to try and cheat death. But what he created was ungodly, and monstrous. And even after their tragic end, that 'thing' remained down here, to this day." Tate explained vividly with menacing theatricality to his apparently "scary" speech. What a fucking shameful performance he implemented. I almost wanted to laugh out of pity. I played along with this "spooky" game by manufacturing my face into a terrified and shocked exclaim.
"Oh my god." I said, my jaw dropping to the floor in faux fear. Tate looked hopeful and anticipated for my frightened answer.
"You are so full of shit. I don't believe a word that has come from your mouth. Forget it. Forget I ever asked." I declared. Tate looked like a confused monkey. I stood up, ready to leave. This was ridiculous, nonsense, I've had enough of shitty stories and pretending. I don't want to play anymore, I don't want to act. It was time to open up, not hide behind tales of tragedy and vain.
"And I'm tired that we keep hanging out in this dark, dank place. Why can't we go somewhere, like on a real date?" I complained. I had to, I just had to make the first move. If I didn't, we'd be stuck in this position forever. Hopefully, Tate got the fucking memo.
"Alright. Tomorrow night. We'll go out." Tate eagerly agreed, getting up and holding my hands keenly. I couldn't help but smile. What a fucking weirdo. A weirdo I was in love with. Footsteps pounded on the dusty ceiling of the basement alarmingly.
"Your father agreed to see me again, but I'm not supposed to be here." Tate hesitated.
"Come on, I'll be your lookout." I suggested, walking up the stairs with him. We stepped out the front door and said our goodbyes. My emotions better keep their shit together if I'm going to survive another minute with him.
I skimmed through my useless history textbook. Literally, when is history going to be used in everyday life? It serves no fucking purpose; I don't need to know about concentration camps and why the Hiroshima bomb was dropped. Also, who gives homework on Halloween? It's possible that I'm the only human being on this planet who isn't out of their fucking minds. A moaning came from downstairs. It sounded like mom, and she was in pain. Without hesitation of losing my spot in my boring-ass history book, I sprinted downstairs to discover mom clutching her stomach as Ben held her.
"What's going on?" I questioned with concern. Mom screeched in pain once more.
"I got to go to the hospital. Stay here, and don't answer the door." Ben ordered, assisting mom out of the house, into the car.
"Don't answer the door? It's Halloween." I ignorantly claimed. Ben shut the fucking door in my face, not answering any of my questions. What great parents, leaving me alone, not aware of the shit that's occurring! I rolled my eyes and returned to my room, drowning into the engagement of my book (Manga). Big Mother by Feeding People hummed from my stereo, making my bones feel alive with spirit and the crappy mood of holiday. Some songs just sort of made sense of the world. It exaggerated the aching some felt inside their souls. The doorbell chimed. I didn't answer, obeying Ben's rules. I turned up the volume to my music and lay on my back, holding the book up to my face. Now, this was true joy. The doorbell chimed several times, at different times, but I chose to ignore it. I was almost done with my novel as an aggressive banging echoed from downstairs. Suspiciously, I went to check. The violent knocking on the door was insistent and the person who was responsible for the racket had absolutely no patience. I assumed that we were out of candy, and some assholes took more than one piece. Shitheads. How could giving some candy to a desperate kid harm me? It was only one time. What the fuck could happen that was so risky?
"My tenant Ben, I want my money!" A crusty loud voice roared from behind the door. Obviously, I was mistaken, yet attentive and peculiarly intrigued. Who was this fucker, and why did he want Ben? Another bash of knocking boomed from the other side. The only defense I had was the 100 year old door, for fucks sake.
"I'm not leaving here till I have my thousand dollars!" The man threatened, outraged and serious. The thunderous banging continued. I looked out the peephole to try and identify this infuriated man. Half of his face was deformed, like it had been molded off like clay. The mysterious man wore a hat and his arm was shriveled. Must be one of Ben's psychotic patients.
"HELLO? Ben Harmon! I want my money! Screw you! YOU OWE ME!" The man bellowed once more. I backed away from the door, mind racking and fear stabbing myself. This has to be a fucking nightmare.
"I'M NOT LEAVING TILL I GET MY 1,000 DOLLARS!" The man snarled brutally. He pounded insanely, with no care of himself or the door. The action was as if a rhinoceros was trying to break a brick wall with no horns. This was supreme mayhem. I had to admit, I was severely anxious and bewildered, and hopefully the maniac would give up and march back to the asylum where he belonged. I hastily grabbed my cell phone and dialed Ben's number, fretfully putting the phone to my ear in hope he would answer.
"Come on, come on." I pleaded as the dial tone trilled. He finally picked up.
"Hey honey." Ben greeted.
"Dad, there's some freaky dude at the door screaming about money. I think he might be one of your patients. I don't know, should I call the cops?" I questioned in a worried manner, fear highlighting my words.
"No! No, just… just keep the door closed. Is it locked?" Ben ordered with distress. As the man clouted the door once more, I saw the lock under the door hinge locked. Thank fucking god.
"Yeah." I assured into the cell phone.
"Answer me! I WANT MY MONEY!" the man barked wildly, throwing himself onto the door like a maniac.
"Okay, we're on our way home right now. Violet, just-just keep the door locked." Ben told me through the phone, the reception was becoming statically and grainy. The man behind the door started tittering with laughter, appeal in his weak chortle. The phone hung up on me and I quivered with horror.
"I know you're in there… is that your daughter?" He sang. This truly was a nightmare. A real one. What I felt was different than any fear I've ever felt before. This was open fear. They all say I'm not afraid of anything, but deep down, they know I am. And I know it too. This situation was unsettling capacity danger and dismay, right in front of my doorstep. And in that moment, I was profoundly afraid.
AN: That's all for now guys! Once again, I am so very sorry for the chapter delay, please expect more chapters coming to you sooner than others! As I write this, I am done with my testing (YAY !) and will continue writing. Please leave reviews, they encourage me to write and post chapters quicker. I won't post until I get enough! So please write them, I really really really appreciate them! Also, leave critique in your reviews! Although all of them are positive and that makes me elated to the point where I cannot breathe, I still would enjoy some criticism to know what you don't like, and what you do like to make this story fit all of your exact expectations ^_^ I love you guys, and expect a new chapter soon! PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS!