"A long time ago, Darkness found its way into my heart. It must have been when I was very little, because I don't remember how it got there. But over the years it's grown, consuming me. I've only tamed it with sanity—rational thinking. If I do this, then that will happen. If I go here, then this will be there. If I hurt her, then I will suffer the consequences. Only in my mind can I enjoy the darkness, and sink into its comfort. Only in fantasy can I embrace it. I'm afraid that one day, rationality will lose it's hold, and that I'll be too wrapped up in the sweet intoxication of the darkness to consider what might happen. I'm afraid I'll lose my last shred of humanity."
-CL 11-8-11
"So save today, the secret's that you prayed for.
And wait,
'Cause we deserve it so much more.
So save, the secret's that your prayed for,
Awake.
I'll see you on the other side."
The song didn't flow too well with my grunting as Violet helped me put on my black corset. By the time she'd finished, just short of me seeing spots, I was smoothing down the white skirt underneath. The short skirt itself had red flowers in an asymmetrical trail off to the side that matched the single red flower in my hair. I picked a piece of lint from my black sweater leggings and straightened my arm-length gloves.
"Are you sure you don't want to dress up at all?" I asked, pushing my hair behind my ears.
She laughed, giving a twirl in the simple white sundress, topped with her own sweater leggings and a thin long sleeve. "I'm already dressed up, I'm a ghost!"
I smiled back and rolled my eyes. In a way I felt kind of ridiculous dressing up so much compared to her, but I guess it didn't matter. As long as she had fun on the one night that she was allowed out. We sat on the bed for a moment in silence, listening to the song as it ended, switching into the next one on the album.
"Thanks for being here, Cherie. I don't know how you managed to convince my parents to back off, but they did." She said after a moment, then did a nervous kind of grin, where she kind of breathed out awkwardly when she did it, "Besides, I really didn't want to have to walk around by myself again."
I let that sink in for a moment. She had never really walked around alone on Halloween, but I guess she wasn't aware of that. Everywhere she'd gone every year, I knew Tate had been right there behind her, protecting her even in death. In a way I felt a little envious, though I knew I shouldn't. I didn't even know him, not personally. I only knew what the house had told me.
'Sweet-heart, a house will never lie to you. It may confuse you, and it may take you awhile to know who felt what, but never once will it lie. If there's anything you can trust about yourself, it's that.' My mother's voice echoed in my memory, but what that had to do with anything I didn't know. I guess it was just one of those thoughts that come up at random. Then I remembered the rest of what Violet said, and realized that I'd been quiet for too long.
Quickly, I twisted my lips into an empathetic smile, "No problem, I'm happy to be here. Who knows, maybe they just got tired of scaring everyone out and finally decided to take a break."
Why did I only notice the smiles?
People just want to blame their problems on their crazy mothers; They want to feel special.
Sound familiar, Tate?
We left early, long before it would get dark, and simply walked around the town doing things that most normal girls would do at our age. It was strange how they had been through so much together and yet she wasn't aware of how close he was, where as I could practically feel him sifting through the crowds of Los Angeles. My breath hitched every time I caught sight of him in the corner of my eye. How had she not seen him?
Maybe she did see him. That would explain a lot, especially how she felt towards him. If she knew that he was there the whole time—if she'd known the entire time—then the part of her that still loved him must have been holding onto what little connection they still had. Maybe I wasn't the only one avidly watching for each glimpse of him that I could.
What I wanted was you...
With this thought, I decided to watch her more closely, more out of curiosity then anything. Were she still interested I would surely back off, after all I cared about her. Being the closest person to me in so long, I would kill for her.
Come and let me say goodbye.
Every time we lapsed into a silence I found myself drowning in senseless questions. Did she really let go of him the way she said she did? Or did a part of her still love him somewhere deep down? God, why did I even care? The only thing that I couldn't stand about that place was that all I could think about was Violet and Tate, Tate and Violet, Tate...Tate...Tate... The house was poisoning me with an unhealthy obsession with someone who wasn't even alive!
I gnawed on the plastic straw in my mocha, and tried to focus on what Violet was saying, but that was hard to do when he was right in my field of vision. He had positioned himself inside of the cafe in one of the booths in the far back, while Vi and I sat at the outdoor tables, despite the snow that had gathered around us. I was watching him, watching her. His expression was emotionless, his dark eyes even colder than where we sat. It made my heart flutter.
Nothing crossed my mind when I stood up and walked over to him, leaving Violet still talking behind me. Well, she'd probably stopped now. She was probably even watching me, confused as I walked toward him, placing my hand lightly on his jaw to guide his attention away from her. I didn't ask or hesitate as I pressed my lips against his, grateful that he was returning it, so softly.
The kiss gradually got harder, more demanding. I could barely hear Violet crying at me over the sound of our heavy breathing. I didn't care. In the split second that our lips separated, I was vaguely aware of the glint of metal.
"What are you doing?!"
Something told me that she was hysterical, gripping onto the back of her chair as she watched us in horror. "What do you think you're doing, Cherie? What's wrong with you?!"
Was that my blood or his blood in my mouth? In confusion, I pulled away from him and looked down. The switch-blade was dug to the hilt in my stomach. My hand felt around it lamely, as though I might somehow find a way to fix myself. When I looked back up, his eyes were still set in that cold, stoney glare.
"Cherie?!"
"I told you not to hurt her." He growled, his lip curling slightly in disgust as he looked me over and tossed my body from the blade.
I started as Violet tapped my forehead, looking at me curiously. "Seriously, what are you doing?"
She nodded pointedly to the way that I had awkwardly hooked one of my incisors into my straw and was now leaning on it in a daze. I tried to pass it off with a chuckle, but that only earned me an even more concerned look from my friend. "Uhm, it's a weird spacey thing that I do, kind of like how some people bite their nails. I, well...I stuff my teeth into straws."
I silently begged her to just ignore it, instead of looking to see why I had spaced out, which thankfully she didn't. With a shrug she repeated what she'd said before. I listened more intently, doing my best not to look at Tate. The one time I let slip, I noticed that he'd glanced at me as well, a confused frown twisted into his features as he shifted.
By the time it was dark Violet and I had wandered into a random neighborhood, ambling up and down random streets, trusting that we'd be able to find our own way home. It was getting to be around midnight, and though I was tired and really wanted to head back, I wasn't about to cheat Violet out of what few hours she got to feel normal again. A lot of the houses by now were dark, the happily families asleep or picking through their children's candy to make sure that it was safe for the next day.
The next street we turned at was different. A large house at the end of it was illuminated like a beacon. The music was so loud that we could hear the faint bass from where we were, and drunken teens stumbled in and out. We both looked at each other, Violet letting out an excited 'Cool!' before we hurried towards the party.
"You know, I never got to try alcohol when I was alive. You think it'd have the same effect if I'm dead?" She asked, her voice breathy and clipped with each energetic step she took.
"I don't know, let's go find out!"
Though I sounded excited, a part of me was worried. Violet didn't even eat real food anymore, let alone drink anything. I kept having flashes of images of her vomiting uncontrollably the second the liquid touched her lips, or convulsing, or even dying again. In that way, I was doubly glad that Tate was close-by, on the off chance that food and drink for the living might hurt her. He could stop her before she did anything, if he knew. Or be there to help if he didn't.
Violet slowed her pace when we got close to the house, causing me to match her by reflex. It felt silly to be wandering by as if we were spying on them, trying to figure out how best to join the others without seeming like the odd one out. She leaned over and whispered to me, but I couldn't hear her over the music, even from outside.
"Do we just go inside?" She said louder.
"I don't know, maybe we shoul-," I was cut off by a loud wolf whistle from one of the guys n the doorway, holding a beer in each hand.
"Hey, girls. If you wanna jump in you better do it now! The beers almost gone!" He called wiggling his eyebrows at Violet and me before he was shoved back inside roughly by some of his guy friends. Sharing a grin, we followed his advice.
The music wasn't completely terrible. It was a mix of dub-step and techno that I was sure would sound better once we were a few beers in. I plucked two out of the cooler and passed one to Vi, looking around in the hopes of seeing Tate somewhere close by. At the moment, he was very well hidden, maybe even outside. After she finally managed to twist the cap off of her own beer, we clinked them together in a lame toast.
"To Halloween!" We cried, and threw our heads back.
The taste was smoother to me than I remembered it being. Well, I had drank beer before...once. Violet on the other hand spit it out, giving me a curious look. "How do you drink this stuff? It tastes like shit!"
I just laughed, relieved that she hadn't started puking yet, "Keep drinking, it'll taste better."
I loved being right. In the next hour we ended up drinking almost three more beers. Despite my drunken state I still made sure to keep an eye on her for any stray twitches that might signal any bad events.
You would have been surprised to see a house like that, still so packed at such a late hour. It was a mad-house! We were pretty much bumping into people every step we took. And the more we drank the better we thought we were dancing, although I wouldn't be surprised if we were actually making ourselves look like idiots more than anything. Violet even danced with a few guys. Did she feel guilty dancing with them, knowing he was watching? Was she still going through the whole process of letting go? I cautiously eyed her while taking another sip of my beer.
Focus on the music, Cher. I had to physically steer my thoughts away from Violet and Tate. With the help of my current dance partner I shook my mind blank. Every twirl, every drunkenly exaggerated and ill-timed dip and shimmy kept me in reality. This guy was funny, and sweet. He wasn't too bad on the eyes either. Who's to say I couldn't learn his name and even go on a proper date one day soon?
Probably the poison in your veins laced with T-A-T-E, a part of me giggled.
Out of the corner of my eye I glanced at Violet again, just in time to see her spin lazily into a girl. She almost lost her footing, knocking the girls solo cup from her hand.
"Hey, watch it bitch!" The girl shrieked, shoving Violet in the shoulder.
Violet wasn't phased, she just stopped, looking at the girl with the most repulsed look she could manage. "Like I was supposed to know you were behind me, Snookie." She scoffed, trying to turn around and dance some more.
"It's Paris Hilton, you little bitch!"
Was that the only cuss word this girl knew? She shoved Violet again, but at this point I had already made my way over and stood between them. Her face was twisted in an ugly snarl as she looked over her newest obstacle. I on the other hand couldn't bring myself to look at the cheap mini-skirt and stuffed toy dog she'd stuck in her too big handbag. "Who the fuck are you?"
I didn't respond right away. I sighed, then looked up at her and smiled. "You know, I really hate the word bitch." I spat. You could barely hear me over the music.
"Oh, well doesn't that just suck," 'Paris Hilton' said sickly sweet as she stepped closer, almost touching me. She craned her neck just a little to accommodate to the added height my heels gave me. Thankfully, I was already coming down from the alcohol, and didn't sway from her, even when she spit in my face when she spoke. "Bitch."
And then I snapped. Before she could back away from me, I grabbed her by the back of her hair and twisted it in my hand. The way she cried out in pain and collapsed onto her knees made the sadistic part of me purr. I knelt down with her. Though she was on both knees, I was more crouched, my other hand resting on my leg as I turned on my toes so that she could see Violet clearly.
"Violet, it seems that 'Paris Hilton' has been pretty rude. Do you think she should—," I shook the girl for emphasis, for pleasure, and looked to Violet, "—apologize?"
Violet didn't seem too feel the same way that I did. For whatever reason, I had expected her to be grinning in triumph, condescendingly shaking her head and I laid into the useless waste in my hand. Her expression was far from triumphant. I froze for a second, taking in the way her hands were slowly winding into her own hair.
I thought you weren't afraid of anything.
Oh shit. What did I just do?
I don't ever want to see you again!
Abruptly I let go of the girl and stood back up. "Vi, I'm sorry, I just kind of, snapped. I didn't mean to remind you of anything bad I just—."
"I need to be alone for a little bit," Violet explained quickly before running out of the house.
I followed her. Sometimes, when you act as a certain person for so long, you can't stop. I'm sure you've heard of how actor's would get stuck even when the camera's stopped rolling. It's the same for people like me. I have a personal theory that only the best actors can play psychopaths, because they are. It was in this way that I got stuck, chasing after the friend of Lonely, Sweet, Cherie Levin's while her voice roared out of me.
"Violet!"
Was it safe to leave her alone right now? I wondered if she could be hurt like anyone else on Halloween, or what would happen if she didn't make it back to the house before sunrise. From what I'd seen, they were just like the living on that day, as far as being limited to the same mobility. Damn it! What the hell had I been thinking?
I didn't need to go after her. With her gone, Tate would no longer be distracted. And what better ending could I imagine than the one that she had rejected? But then, I knew that Tate would hate me if I abandoned her. Most likely, he already hated me for reminding her of...heh...for reminding her of him. No, I wouldn't veer off course. I barely had a sliver of a chance if he meant to own up to his threat, and I definitely didn't want to die outside of that house.
I pushed harder, until all I could hear was my heart beat...or my feet on the pavement...or his feet close by...I couldn't tell. If I didn't find her something might actually happen to her, and I didn't know if that part of me could handle it. There was still a slight chance that Lonely Sweet Cherie wasn't a concoction of a sick mind. I called for her again. It sounded different this time, deeper. It was almost as if I'd screamed myself hoarse.
"Violet!"
No, that definitely wasn't me. For a moment I refused to let the thought cross my mind, but it was useless. The second my mind realized that he was close by it kicked into hyper-speed, and all of the different parts of me started warring against how to treat my new found predicament. Obviously, he genuinely cared about her, or he wouldn't have been here in the first place. He could help me find her. She could help me win him over. If I looked just frantic enough he might fall for me, little by little. It could start a beautiful path down a beautiful road in life that lead to death.
Society would have found me so sickening I'm sure.
I didn't want him to fall for another character tucked away in my psychotic theatre though. I wanted him to fall for the same me that was so much like him. I wanted to comfort him in the way that Violet never would, and make him forget everything he'd been through. I wanted to find Violet before someone or something else did.
All of this thoughts bounced off of each other inside my head in less than a few seconds.
"Tate, surely you know where she might have gone!" I yelled, my voice conveying only the honest mild worry that had nestled in the chest of Lonely Sweet Cherie. I could see him thinking for a moment from where he was on the other side of the street, just barely ahead of me.
Then finally, "This way!" As he took a sudden turn and I barely had enough time to catch up to him.
I recognized the beach immediately from one of my dreams the past few nights. This was where he'd taken her on their first date. Where she'd seen first hand what he'd done to get himself killed. Sure enough there she was curled up at the edge of the ocean. One he'd reached the part of the ground that gave way to a three foot drop and sand, he stopped, backing up just a little so as to stay out of sight. In very much the same way as me, I could see him battling with himself for what to do, trying to decide how he wanted to appear to her. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment, then pressed them onto his forehead as he paced for a moment.
Every expression he made, seemed to twist his features regardless of the emotion it was meant to portray. I heard him breathe in deep through his teeth, and simply watched, fascinated, waiting to see what he decided. Then he was nodding, agreeing with himself as he rubbed his hand across his face resolutely.
"You have to go out there, you have to comfort her. If she sees me and knows that I followed her...she can't...she just can't."
I'll wait...Forever if I have to.
I let the silence hang for a moment, then obediently walked away, as though I'd been walking alone the whole time, and had just stumbled across the area.
"This is good. You're 'last shred of humanity' is intact, you haven't acted on anything, and there is resistance. Cherie look at me."
I took a deep breath when I reached her, ignoring my own memory and kneeling down to sit beside her in silence. The psychiatrist from my old ward kept surfacing in my mind. It made it harder to try to talk to her when I couldn't even think straight at the moment.
"You haven't broken yet. You're not a psychopath, just a confused little girl who doesn't know which way to go. It's okay."
Violet wiped her eyes and leaned on my shoulder. "I'm okay, really. It just...reminded me...of something."
"The girl in the basement, the one that Thaddeus attacked." It wasn't a guess. I could feel the memory practically replaying from her without even being in the house, just like with Tate a moment ago. It was like they were carrying a part of the house with them. She nodded, and I lifted my hand to smooth her hair in the same way that I'd seen other girls comfort their friends at school.
She sobbed harder for a moment. "I should have realized it then, Cherie. I should have taken the hint and stayed away from him, but I didn't. And now I'm stuck like this—Dead!—because of him!"
As much as I wanted to believe that I cared about Violet, her words cut through me like a knife and went straight to him. I knew he had heard her, and was hurt by what she'd said. A part of me cried for him, having to hear her say something so horrible, but all I could do was sit there, and keep smoothing her hair. I didn't know what to say. Or maybe I just didn't want to say anything at all. After all, a psychopath is methodical, and charismatic. A psychopath can manipulate those around them without even really trying.
And a part of me, really, really wanted her to hate him.
Okay, I kept the length and didn't add anymore to the actual story just because it took me just as long to finish fleshing it out as it did to write the shell from before. Again, I apologize for having posted this without properly going over it, and I'll do my best to keep from doing that again. Now, I am off to bed. Please review and the what nots! Let me know if anything came out over-played or too bland, or to repetitive etc. Thanks!