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@violetiisms
âHeâs a ghost?â She asked in confusion. âSurprisingly not the weirdest I have ever heard.â Annie smiled and nodded before carefully handing Oliver over to Violet.
âYeah, so am I.â Violet smiled, as if it were a normal occurrence. She gently held Oliver, reaching out with her free hand to shake his own little one. âPleasure to meet you, Oliver. Properly now.â She laughed. âHeâs so cute!â
âNo, I canât say I have. Well, apart from my parents, but thatâs a different kind of love. I actually havenât had anyone love me in any other way than maternal, and I donât think Iâve ever loved anyone in another way either. Apart from maybe my best friend, Annie⌠but she died. What about you?â Jean replied, her brows furrowing at the description of these Harry Potter books. âOh, busy man⌠does his best friend not mind?â
âBullshit... youâve never had someone have a crush on you, ask you out, fall in love with you? Had the whole âyoung loveâ deal? Even I have, and Iâm not exactly a good candidate for a girlfriend. Oh shit, Iâm sorry to hear that.. but hey who knows, she could turn up here. Iâm here and Iâm dead.â Violet laughed, although she became aware as soon sheâd said it that talking about her friend was probably not the greatest idea. âMe? I had a boyfriend. His name was Tate, kind of short-lived. The romance, I mean.â She didnât know the half of it. âNo, his best friend is too busy getting off with their other best friend.â
âViolet, huh? I wouldnât have pegged you as that. You seem more of a Betty or Millicent even.â Heather simply shrugged, glancing around the area. âDoesnât seem too bad, but itâs not like I missed it or anything. Itâs not that hard. Iâm Heather, oneâs a cheerleader, the other is a wannabe. Thatâs how weâre identified. Do you not have any other friends called Violet?â
âI seem like a Betty or Millicent?â She repeated, wondering if sheâd heard her right. âYeah, no. Bettyâs too old... reminds me of Betty Boop a little too much.â Violet narrowed her eyes in confusion, but couldnât help a grin. âThatâs your identification.. a name, a cheerleader and a wannabe? Jesus. No, Iâve never actually met any other Violets. Why do you get to be called Heather?â
âI HAVE TO ADMIT, the clothes here are much more comfortable and having a beard is acceptable. Who could complain?â
âHere? Are you from another planet or something? You donât look like an alien, but then again who knows what aliens look like. You know, real aliens.â
âLetâs not think about that Violet because we arenât going to die. Iâm not going to leave you here, I promise. Just as long as you donât leave me.â He told her, the thought of losing the girl another time was too painful to bare. He didnât want to talk about it, he didnât want to think about it. She was everything to him, even if she didnât believe him whenever he told her about his feelings. He knew what he felt and he knew that his feelings were true. He took in a deep breathe as he looked down at the girl, furrowed his eyebrows, nodding his head at her question. He knew he was alive, he felt his heart working, he felt the warmth on his skin, something he never felt before. âI rather not go back to the murder house. But I get why you want to go back there, youâre family is there. But Violet, donât die on me, okay? Not here, not there, not again. We will be careful, I will I promise you that.â
âIâm not going to leave you, Tate. Even if you do piss me off, youâre stuck with me.. Iâm not staying in this creepy shit hole by myself.â Violet had done so in the past, and no harm had come to her. She knew all too well that her statement was just a ploy to keep him near her - to keep him close. At the mention of her family, she couldnât help but nod. Although she wasnât one for emotion, especially when it came to her family, she did miss them. And she wouldnât deny the few tears sheâd cried at night for them, especially her mom. Even though she seemed older than her years, she was still a little girl wanting her parents to hold her hand and tell her everything would be alright. âMy family will be fine without me, and Iâll be fine without them...â She had to remain strong, whether for her image or for yourself. âIâm not going to die in England, Tate. Not until Iâve been in the dungeons.â
     â does that happen often to you? â
âNo, because Iâm hella pro at this game. You need to practice, dude.â
Text - Open
Carter: do you know anything fun to do ??? Like I'm pretty much up for anything
Violet: Depends. You mean fun like board games or fun like raising hell?
âyeah, hi, looking for dimensional scissors here!!â star exclaimed. this was NOT good. now how was she supposed to get back home? she whined loudly as she began to play with her hair. âugh, whereâs marcoâs organization when you need it?â
âUm, thereâs scissors in the kitchen... wait, why do you even need them? And whatâs Marcoâs organization?â
           â what the HELL was that? â
âSome weird animatronic creature. Yeah, they tend to jump out at you if you donât shut the doors in time or the vent.â
âNo, they donât.â She tried to keep a friendly manner about her tone, but she couldnât understand why this girl was against others being happy.. unless sheâd be hurt. âI donât believe there should be a day dedicated to it, because I think if you love someone you should show them everyday⌠but I donât think ruining their Valentineâs day is very productive either.â She shook her head. âHonestly, I donât..â
âHave you ever had someone show you that they love you everyday? Itâs got to be exhausting.â Violet couldnât speak much on the concept of love. The closest thing sheâd had to having any sort of affection for someone was when it came to Tate. Come to think about it, her entire love life consisted of him. âHarry Potter is about a boy whoâs a wizard. Fights some evil dude, goes to school, fucks his best friendâs sister... the usual.â
He chuckled alittle, he never told her the entire story about how he tried to save her because he knew that she wasnât ready to hear it. Something told him now that she still wasnât ready or that she simply didnât want to know. Although he could understand why she wouldnât any to hear about it, no one would want to hear how they died and werenât able to be able to be saved. âNo neead to threaten with such measures. Iâm not going to leave you alone. Ever. I promise you, Violet.â He told her, his eyes starring down at her. He wished that he could prove to her that he wasnât going to do anything to lose her, not again. âI know. And we are going to do fine.â
âSpeaking of death. Do you reckon if we die here we actually die?â It was a stupid question, one of which she was sure she already knew the answer to. But she was tired of all this serious shit. If Violet was going to attempt to move forward from the past, even if only to save herself some lonely nights here, she had to not think about the tragedies that took place back in the murder house. Although her death was certainly up for discussion - adapting to the life of a ghost was actually becoming, dare she say entertaining. âI mean...â She placed a hand against her chest, feeling the faint thump of her renovated heart. âIâm alive again, are you?â She didnât wait for a response, before pressing her other hand against his torso. âOh, what if we die here.. and then we appear back in the murder house? Or would we be ghosts here? I donât know how it works, but we should be careful.â
âOh, I remember you. Youâre the girl who told me this is Hell⌠you were wrong. Thereâs no fiery pits and outdated fashion here⌠well, almost. Iâm Heather, I donât know who the fuck Madison is.â
âYeah, thatâs me. Violet, for future reference. You sure about that? You havenât been here for awhile, how do you know this place hasnât gone to shit?â Violet laughed. âAh, yeah. Heather with the friends who are also called Heather.. some confusing shit there.âÂ
âI doubt you have a boring life!â Annie reassured Violet with a smile. âYeah, you honestly look sixteen so yeah, I will go with that.â Oliver giggled and smiled at Violet. âI will ask him, thank you Violet.â Annie smiled and gave her side hug since she was still holding Ollie.
âThe most excitement Iâve had is finding out my boyfriend is a ghost.â She paused. âEx-boyfriend.â For now. âCan I hold him?â She asked, gesturing to the child.
His eyebrows lifted as she spoke again, his eyes closed at the soft touch of her hand, leaning his cheek against her hand. He wished that he could have had this throughout the entire time, he missed this. He missed being with her, holding her and just talking to her. He loved just spending hours in the day talking to her, it felt like forever, it was such a wonderful thing, the feelings he had for her. He felt like someone finally saw him, he the real him, the broken boy underneath all the twisted mask and walls that seem to guard him so well. âI said the same thing to you when you took all those pills..â He whispered as his eyes looked down at her. That day was a day he still cringe at whenever he remember it. He couldnât save her. He wanted to save her but there was nothing that he could it and it broke him. âIâm not going anywhere.â He promised her.
âYou did?â She questioned, but his answer didnât really matter. The night she died was a blur, and something sheâd rather not think or dwell on.. she didnât even realize that was the night her life ended until a few days later. It was hard to believe that reality even existed any more, with them both standing here with beating hearts and warm hands. âGood, because Iâm not going to let you leave me alone here. If you do, I swear to god, Tate.. I will kill you myself.â She supposed she couldnât really stop him if he tried to, but she thought sheâd voice her attempt to frighten him with an empty threat that she could never go through with. âWe just need to focus on the present. What happened in the murder house.. we need to let it go for now. If weâre to survive this.â
âSo.. Hell sucks and good olâ Jesus is taking forever to get back to me, because clearly I was shoved up Satanâs ass crack by accident. Thatâs why Iâve returned⌠well, not of my own accord, but whatever. Iâm here and Iâm starving, so please tell me you have some left over Valentineâs day chocolate or candy?â
âGreat to see youâre back, Madison... Heather? Youâre one of them, right? Unfortunately I donât have any left over, but Iâm sure youâll find something in the kitchen.â
Holding her felt right but at the same time he made him remember everything that happened between them. The good memories and the memories that broke his heart, a heart that he didnât know that he had until he had met Violet. It seemed like everything changed when she moved into his old house, his old room. She was his light. The only light that ever stepped foot into the murder house. But the light soon vanished when the monster in him came out. The monster that he wished never exposed, he regretted everything he had done. He regretted ever doing what was asked of him, but at that time he made a promise and he wanted to keep that promise. Maybe others viewed him as a monster but he was just a broken boy trying to keep a promise to a very sad lady. Those three words. Those three words brought light and hope back into him, feelings he thought that wouldnât come back, feelings that he shoved down so far when he saw how sad and hurt she was the day that she sent him away. His hold on her tighten as his head turned slightly, leaving a gentle, soft peck upon the top of her head as his hues closed, âI love you.â He quietly whispered into her hair.
But I canât forgive you. The statement had lingered in her head as soon as she had uttered her love for him, with one of their last memories together playing on a loop inside her poor broken mind. Desperately she tried to rid the image of them standing in her old bedroom, and focus on the present. She couldnât let that point in their history disrupt whatever kind of reconciliation this was. As she kept telling herself, right now she needed Tate. She needed some sense of familiarity mixed with normality. In the murder house, seeing him had been a regular occurrence, something she had grown used to - even after the events that led to her motherâs death. She wasnât ready for him to disappear just yet. âDonât do anything stupid here, Tate.â She lessened her hold on him, leaning back to cup his face, and stroke at his skin ever so gently with her fingertips. âWe can die in this place. Donât die on me.â
A soft breathe of air left his body as he felt her arms around him, it was a feeling he had missed more than heâd openly admit to anyone. Though if she asked him, heâd be more than happy to admit in an heartbeatâ a heartbeat that he now had. His arms quickly wrapped around her, holding her close as his eyes looked down at her wondering what was going through her head. He wondered if she missed the family that she left behind in the murder house, the way he missed his family even though his family was nowhere near as good as Violetâs.
For the first time in forever sheâd felt a warmth radiate from them both - being alive again had itâs advantages. Sheâd always wondered what it would have been like if her and Tate could have been a real couple. Now that they were here, they could do the things Violet had always wanted to. Explore, take a trip to the record store, go and see some shitty local band play... this could be a second chance, although she refused to voice this claim before figuring out his state of mind. Giving him a gentle squeeze, she rested her head against him and closed her eyes. He felt safe, she felt safe in his arms. âI love you, Tate." The words rolled out again before she had a chance to stop herself. This scene was all too familiar to her, it made her remember the way it used to be - remember the feelings and the emotions she felt whenever his arms were protecting her from the dark corners of the house. The moments before she had found out she'd been dancing with the devil the entire time.
