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@sourgirlviolet
"I need a smoke."
I think there's a bad rat problem in the basement.
With all these people in the house I need to lock my room. Now they're acting it's somebody's birthday or something...LA people.
Needless to say he was incredibly surprised by the last comment but by no means surprised. It was a Violet thing to say alright. “Okay wow, yeah no I maybe crazy but I’m not that crazy. Just a manic depressive who loves his drugs.” That was probably the most honest he was about his illness, ever. “But I’m not your dad’s patient, I’ve never even met the guy. Not sure I want to either, from what I’ve heard he might just hit on me.”
That was a joke but he wasn’t sure if it was in the best taste. He pulled a bowl from the cupboard and started to get cereal together. “We’ve met but it doesn’t surprise me you don’t remember. So… maybe you wanna start over? I promise not to jerk off in your bowl if you play nice?”
Violet smirked at his joke, news traveled fast about her dad it seemed. While she didn't remember when they actually met, correction she had never seen him before, but she'll bite. "I'm okay with that," she said taking a bite of her cereal.
"So, if you're not seeing my dad then why are you in here?" She asked with a raised brow.
She looked incredibly confused and he couldn’t blame her. They hadn’t spoke in quite sometime. He also knew she was prone to blocking out traumatic events, losing the love of your life to someone else was probably under that category. He pulled out a box of cereal and gave a small “Hmph.”
"They’re not frosted flakes but they’ll do." He smiled again and then looked at her with a mildly perplexed expression. She really didn’t know who he was. "Uh, Nathaniel, Nathaniel De Luca." He said pointing towards himself. "You don’t remember me?" He had the feeling they were both now mutually confused.
"Uh, no. Never met you before in my life and you're standing in my kitchen." What was with these people? Was Ben getting that sad about his practice being shit he had to get the craziest of the crazy? This wasn't a hospital, this was a fucking house! If the divorce happens she honestly didn't know who she wanted to live with more...so far her mom was winning this game.
"Dad is sensitive about this stuff but I'm not so, I'm Violet. You must be another patient of his psycho bullshit and you must have some thing where you walk around the house like it's your own. Just...don't jerk off in my bowl and we'll be cool alright?"
It was late afternoon, nearing dinner time and it was morbidly quiet. Nate didn’t necessarily know why but he didn’t mind. He sat on the couch in the front living room reading a book, he’d found some of his brother’s old copies Hemingway books and thought they’d be a good way to pass the time. When he heard someone coming down the stairs he didn’t look up, he didn’t need to. But when he heard Violet’s voice ring out calling for her parents he took his attention away from the book and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She made her way to the kitchen which made the dark haired boy get up from his spot on the couch and followed her as quietly as he could.
Seeing she was sat down on a stool he put his book down on the counter and smiled at her politely. They hadn’t spoken much before but he was hoping to change that, not to spite Tate or Steph in anyway but because he genuinely wanted to. “I’m really hoping we’ve got some frosted flakes around here somewhere.” Nate said turning his attention towards the pantry to look for cereal for himself.
She was in mid chew of the cereal when she heard a voice, a stranger's voice. Golden eyes shot up, seeing the strange boy walk around the kitchen...like he owned the place. What the fuck were these people walking through the house like this?! Maybe it was her dad's method for patients with brain issues she had no fucking clue. Not knowing she was the one with the current brain issue.
"Uh...Who are you?" She asked with narrowed eyes. She didn't know they had met. She didn't know they once shared the same pain of being tossed aside by two selfish people. All of that was gone from her head. To her, he was just some stranger to her.
"I died taking all those pills..."
"Make the pain go away..."
"They're going to make you remember, don't let them. They want to destroy you."
Violet's shot open, rising from the bed taking a deep breath. Man, these were getting way intense. More vivid, real. But she shook out of it, they were just dreams. Dreams were shit your brain made, they held no value.
After she took a bath and got dressed she went down stairs. "Mom? Dad?" She called, but there was nothing. Weird, they'd be up fixing some shit to make her eat...where could they be? Oh well, she shrugged, opening the fridge to make a bowel of cereal.
The brain, what a powerful thing.
"Oh so your dad is a doctor, psychologist? That’s pretty cool. Well I won’t disturb them, as I can see their probably very busy people. So you just got back from school?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't say he's the best but whatever gets him off my back I'm cool with. Yeah, it sucks. But you don't wanna hear about that."
"Oh man, dads are the worst. I mean my dad, he cheated on his girlfriend with her mother. Now how fucked up is that? But that’s basically what my family lives on, the dysfunction of it all.. Baby coffin? No I don’t believe I have, that must have been devastating on your mother. Is she still butt hurt about it? Well welcome to LA, home of the fake."
Leaning against the wall, Michael ran a hand through his his hair. “School was easy for me, graduated early. But yeah, couldn’t stand the pricks at that school. I swear there would have been another shooting if I had to listen to their petty shit any longer.” Shrugging his shoulders he slightly shook his head. “What a bitch, you should have made her eat it if she was so goddamn sensitive about it.”
"Dude seriously? That's so fucked up. Though to be honest my dad fucked a girl close to my age when this shit all happened so I get it." She looked up from her book, an old library book about birds. Once upon a time it had a clock in/out sheet, with someone's name on it. She tore it up and put in the pile that resides in the basement so, for all she knew it was her own book that she got from the library. "She's very mopey about it," she went on about her mom. "They're so fake about it, they obviously hate each other I just don't understand how they can think they can fix what's already broken. My belief? If you truly love someone you should never hurt them."
"But I think love is all bullshit anyway," she shrugged nonchalantly. "People just end up hurting each other anyway." She looked back at the blonde guy before stopping the song. "Do you want to listen to The Smiths? Morrissey's cool. And he's pissy, and he hate's everyone and everything." She put on "Girlfriend in a Coma before walking over to the edge of the bed. "There was a school shooting?" She asked, this was news to her. "Dude that's sick!"
"Yeah mine too." He smirked at the thought of her not having any knowledge of them being siblings. "But I grew up with my grandma, guess mom couldn’t handle me." He shrugged off her sarcasm, and pulled out one of the CD’s from the shelf before putting it back in. "Like the flower, nice name sunshine petals."
Michael wondered if this was exactly how Violet was before she met his dad, and that his father was the reason why she was so broken in the end. Or if she was already broken before his father could get his hands on her. But for now it was nice seeing her all numb looking, he was growing sick of her sad eyes. “Yeah, I live next door with my grandma. Don’t know if you’ve yet met her, she likes to make quite an appearance.” Turning his head he looked at her iPod, rolling his eyes slightly before turning around and putting his hands in his pocket. “So where were you before? Wait let me guess, you look more or less of a Boston kind of girl. Am I right?” He wondered if he was making himself seem creepy yet, he wanted to see her uncomfortable with his appearance.
"Wow, you're pretty observant." Came Violet's reply. She didn't flinch or think anything different about the conversation. Why would she? She still wore long sleeves and it was 80 degrees. She had a slight accent and an attitude to boot. Nothing odd about his question at all. "I just moved here last week. My mom caught my dad cheating, literally. On top of that she had this brutal miscarriage, then we had to do this bizarre funeral. I mean have you ever seen a baby coffin? Anyway, thinking we can do some fresh start we moved here. I hate it here, all this fake bullshit. The east coast was cooler, at least we had weather."
That was how far her mind had took her, all the way back to the beginning. Before everything went to hell in a picnic basket. "School sucks too, fake ass bitch tried to make me eat my own cigarette. I mean, I know people are sensitive about lung cancer but I was outside it's not like I blew it in her face."
Finding out about Violets sudden loss of memory, made the blonde boy excited at the new games he could play. He wasn’t planning on hurting her in anyway, or making her sad. But he was curious as in what he could find out about her, seeing as she had no memory of him whatsoever. He wanted to know if their were things that she would tell him seeing him as a stranger now, and perhaps a few mind fucks in the process.
Running up the stairs, taking two at a time. Michael let his finger trail across the wall as he made his way down the hall to her room, stopping shortly so he could sneak up on her. Peaking his head around the corner towards her old room, he spied on her. There was something different about her, upon looking at her face. The once saddened eyes held no meaning to her current emotions, if there were any emotions that is. Turning slightly he leaned against the doorway, making himself noticeable but knocked lightly on the door with his knuckles. “Sorry to bother, but the front door was open. I brought cookies, their on the table.” Walking into the room he looked around at the room, as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m Michael.”
Violet looked up at the blonde guy standing at her doorway. If she was in the now, her eyes would widen and tell him to fuck off. He was the constant reminder of what Tate did that hurt the worst besides moving on without her. But, that wasn't the case anymore. To Violet, he was a mere stranger. "My mom has a thing about leaving doors open, something about fresh air or some shit." She commented rather matter of fact, she did scoff at him just walking in and looking around. "Make yourself at home." She replied sarcastically. "Oh and I'm Violet by the way."
After she died and the last family left she organized the room back to where she had it. She kept Gabe's CD's though, she thought they were cool. Now, she thought they were her's that she brought from Boston. There was no hint of the past after her current frame of mind, everything Tate ever gave her she shoved in the basement where they belonged. So, there was nothing...absolutely nothing that would make her remember. Maybe she had planned this all along, but nope. Her own brain did all the work. "Do you live around here or something?" She asked putting on her iPod. Special Death began to play, it was her favorite song. Before she would never dare to listen to it because it brought the memories. But those memories were nothing but weird ass dreams to her now.
With your feet on the air and your head on the ground Try this trick and spin it, yeah Your head will collapse But there's nothing in it And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind?
Time has stood still in the blue room. For all Violet knew, it was still 2011. She was still 17, she was fresh in this LA hell. She just finished her homework, well...she thought she did. Her limbo was very real that nothing about being a ghost phased her. Every disappear/reappear was just her going to school and coming back home.The ghosts themselves, just people either seeing her dad or her mom's new friends. There was no pain in her eyes, in fact...there was no expression at all.
Golden eyes use to be full of fire, held the truth. She had lost herself. Her mind created this state as a defense. But, at least she was not crying or harming herself.
Special Death - Mirah
Her words made him remember the very first time they met. A bit nostalgic, really. “Yeah, I just know things I guess. But, uh…” This was all a bit too Stephen King for him. And that was definitely saying something. “Yeah. Music sounds good. I can come find you.”
"Okay, oh. I gotta warn you though. My dad? He's really full of shit, he feeds you this bullshit like he understands you. But that's just me though. See ya." She walked up the stairs, still very much unphased and lost in her mind. She woke up this way, to her it was just another day in her new home seven years ago. Whatever happened before, it was all gone. Sometimes, ghosts just lose themselves after being in pain for so long.