My father had just caught Tom and I kissing. I was dead for sure.

But I couldn't bring myself to regret it. I mean, when life gives you someone as great as Tom to love its only sane to reach out and grab it. I could die right now and I'd be happy. As a matter of fact, I probably was going to die right now.

My father came in, his heavy feet clomping noisily on the wood flooring, yelling and cursing. He got up in my face, forcing me to step back, asking me why I'd let Tom kiss me. Only he didn't do it so nicely.

Then he slapped me. And he didn't stop until I was knocked out. I'm not even sure if that stopped him.

When I regained consciousness, I was laying outside in an awkward position, like I had just been slung onto the ground like a child's rag doll. I groaned as the pain hit me like a freight train.

"Don't say a word," my father hissed and I realized he was crouched down right beside me. "Sheriff!" he called, suddenly jumping up.

Oh no...

I turned my head, gritting my teeth against the sharp stab of pain. I collapsed back on the ground, my eyes falling on Mr. Heck Tate- the sheriff of Maycomb. This was going horribly wrong real fast...

"Came as fast I could. What's happened?" His eyes fell onto me and they immediately became worried.

"That nigger Robinson's came and raped and beat my youngin'," my father explained as they met up halfway.

"Violet?" the sheriff asked, sounding astonished. His eyes shot daggers into mine, filled with worry.

This was not going to happen.

I forced myself onto my knees, feeling my head grow dizzy as I stood. "N-n-no," I mumbled weakly and then had to hold onto my head for fear I'd lose it. I stumbled and heard Mr. Tate rush over.

"Whoa there, Violet." Mr. Tate caught me by my upper arms, steadying me.

I went limp once again, my vision going black.

ERTERTERT

Tom was in jail for something he didn't do. The love of my life was accused of raping and beating me. My father should be the one in jail right now.

But he wasn't.

It had taken about two months for me to heal enough to even walk. Then it took another month for my father to grow bored of his nonstop watch on me, making sure I didn't run off and spill the truth. Tonight was the night I finally snuck out to visit Tom and apologize.

I just prayed to god that he'd forgive me. I had some extreme doubts but, no matter what, I was going to do everything in my power to keep him off death road. All of this was my fault and mine alone so I had to even if I didn't want to- which I did want to.

I listened closely, not even daring to breathe. I heard father's snoring and finally sighed with relief. It was impossible to wake him up once he started snoring.

I slid out of bed and tiptoed to the window, not daring to make a sound no matter how sure I was that he wouldn't wake. I slid open the window, freezing and listening every time it groaned from little use.

I hurried into town, running on the grassy area beside the dirt road on calloused, bare feet. My night gown billowed around my legs in the self-induced wind.

The jail building came into view and I slowed. It was a short building, one cell wide and two cells tall. Only one, dim light shown from the front of the building but, from where I was coming, I couldn't tell if it was even attached to the jailhouse.

I ducked behind some bushes, just in case anyone was a night walker. My heart pumped erratically like I was about to commit murder.

"Tom?" I whispered, reaching up on my toes to peep in the bar-covered window.

"Atticus?" I recognized Tom's voice. It seemed to have grown tired and worn.

"No... It's Violet," I whispered hesitantly, awaiting the onslaught of fury. Something deep inside me lit up at just hearing his voice- but a larger part of me broke as I thought he was going to be angry.

"Violet?" Tom's face suddenly appeared, dimly lit by the half moon.

I finally started to cry. Just seeing his face behind those iron bars reminded me that my very existence had put him there. "I'm so sorry," I said brokenly, plopping down onto the grass. I couldn't remain standing under the onslaught of emotion. "I-I-I don't know why he's doin this." I held my head in my hands.

"Now, now, darlin'," Tom said soothingly. "None of this is your fault."

I jumped up, agitated with myself. "But it is! All of it is!" I yelled, a little too loudly. I clamped my hand over my mouth.

"Who's there?" someone asked who's voice I couldn't place. "Tom?"

"It's alright, Atticus," Tom said and I squeaked, surprised that someone else was here. "It's just Violet"

I shrank back onto my knees so I hid behind the bushes. I had a bad feeling this Atticus guy wasn't going to be happy with my presence.

"Violet?" Atticus asked, his feet disturbing the grass as he walked over. "Miss Ewell?"

I started crying silently. I was scared that either this man was going to be mad or he was going to tell my father. I hated being so frightened but I couldn't push it away.

"Now, Violet, please don't cry. Atticus ain't gonna hurt ya," Tom assured, like he was, once again, reading my mind.

I felt embarrassed, but comforted, that Tom had spoken that aloud. I sucked it up, hating this weak feeling I had, and stood to face Atticus.

He was taller than me- perhaps by a foot. He had graying hair but a strong physique. He gazed at me curiously, looking more than confused.

I couldn't blame him. As far as he knew, I had been raped by the man whom I was visiting. I would be beyond confused myself if I were him. But it just hadn't happened and I didn't really know how to tell him.

I shyly looked into his warm eyes, holding onto my arm that ached. "Tom didn't do it," I finally blurted out and bit my lip. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "I-I-I don't know why my father's doing this. He... he doesn't like whenever I'm happy... so I guess this is his way of getting back at me," I explained shamefully, unable to look at Tom.

"Are you saying the Sheriff lied?" Atticus asked, authority in his voice.

I shook my head quickly. "No, of course not!" I gulped. "My... my father... did all of that to me..." I admitted, feeling shameful. I had never admitted anything like this and it was far harder than I thought it would be.

"Oh, Violet... How bad was it? Gosh... this was all my fault..." Tom said, sounding shameful.

I looked up at him, shocked. "None of this was your fault, Tom," I said reverently. "And it really wasn't that bad..." I lied lightly, biting my lip and hoping he wouldn't catch the lie like I knew he would.

He sighed, catching the lie, and I could feel his concerned gaze.

"How does Mr. Ewell plan to explain your absence in the courtroom?" Atticus asked, bringing my attention back to him.

I shrugged, thoughtful. "I really don't believe he's thought that far ahead," I admitted. "Is there anything we can do now to get Tom out of jail?" I asked.

Atticus was looking at me thoughtfully. "Why are you doing this, anyways, Miss Violet? If your father doesn't like your happiness, then I'd imagine, if he caught you doing this, then he would do something pretty severe," he pointed out softly.

I bit my lip, glancing at Tom who was gazing lovingly at me. "'Cuz I'd rather die fo' somethin' I did than have Tom die fo' somethin' he didn't. 'Cuz I love him more than life itself."