|Lost But not forgotten
Author: whatadreamer PM
Violet is sick and tired of being alone and suffering. Tate and her start to become friends and a new family moves in and Tate takes an interest in the new girl. Violet doesn't like this one bit.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Violet H. & Tate L. - Chapters: 6 - Words: 5,582 - Reviews: 17 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 19 - Updated: 12-15-12 - Published: 11-12-12 - id: 8696536
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
everythings the same but a new family moves in and tate takes a liking to the new girl. violet doesn't like it one bit.
It was a day like any other, it had been years since she told Tate to go away and since then she hasn't been the same. She wishes more than anything that he didn't rape her mother. If he hadn't then they wouldn't be in this situation. He needed to be punished, and he was being punished no doubt about that. But so was she, she has never been this angry and sad before. She was suffering because she loved him, and she knew that eventually she would forgive him. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. She was standing in the attic looking outside at the environment around her. She was going to be stuck here for eternity.
She inhaled the addictive smoke and got lost in her thoughts, flashback's of her and Tate when they were happy, and when they didn't have anything to worry about. She coughed as she forget to exhale the smoke and cursed under her breath. Tate was the first boy she had ever been interested in, he was different. He wasn't like those idiotic popular boy's like at her old school. He had cherished her and loved her. She had done the same back to him. She was in love, heads over heels in love.
She inhaled the smoke once again and blew it out her nose like a dragon, she loved doing that. Another flashback hit her when she was dragging the shiny blade across her pale porcelain skin which was ruined by the crimson drops forming out of them, she loved the pain, it made her feel alive. There was something about that blood man, she drowned in it. But was interrupted when she heard a voice.
It was Tate.
"Let me see that"
She turned around and offered her arm to him. He grabbed it and started to suck on it.
"You're right, it is.. you mutilated yourself."
"You do it"
Nice one violet.
God he was so beautiful.
"Promise me you'll never cut yourself again."
She turned back to look at her wrist at the smudged blood before deciding.
She hadn't noticed the tears that were slowly running down her cheek at the memory. She missed him. She missed him so fucking much. In an attempt to calm herself down she inhaled more of that cancer stick, even though it couldn't kill her anymore. She laughed to herself at the thought. She exhaled it slowly blowing perfect o's getting lost in them, a familiar red ball rolled over to her and hit her foot softly. She hadn't played ball with Beau for ages do to her locking herself away in her room, well it used to be her room… She picked up the ball.
She heard a approving grunt and sat down and rolled the ball into the darkness. It rolled back. After who knows how long of playing she decided to go cut herself some more.
"See you later Beau, sorry"
She took her time walking to the bathroom. She decided to make a better cover and put the tap on. Since no one was living there, no one could pay the water bills, so it was freezing cold, but the colder the better she thought. She undressed herself, taking off all of the layers of clothing and focusing on her body. She looked at herself in disgust, she grabbed the fat on her stomach and made a disapproving moan. It kinda sucked that she was stuck as a teenager forever, but it had it perks. She looked again at her body, hardly any boobs, no curves whatsoever and not to mention her small petite body frame. She definitely wasn't the one to ever be insecure or care about the way she was but for some reason it mattered to her.
A few knocks on the bathroom door interrupted her trace of thought.
"I'm in here!" She said rather quickly but heard whoever that was there walk away.
She slowly walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a razor, since it had been in there for who knows how long it was rusty. The more rustier the better. She slipped her foot into the bath and shivered at how cold the water was, but sucked it up. Eventually she got used to the cold water and laid her head back and relaxed. She eyed the razor hungrily, twisting it in her fingers and inspecting every inch of the blade. She hadn't done it since she promised Tate but since he fucked it up it didn't matter anymore. None of those fucking promises meant shit to her now. He was a monster and she loved him. She started to drag the blade across her scar ridden wrist when a familiar voice stopped her.
"You promised remember"
Tate's voice sounded dull, it sounded empty. He sounded tired. Good, that fucker deserved to feel the pain. She continued to drag it across in perfect lines and she heard Tate whimper. How pathetic. He grabbed the blade from her hand and his black eyes stared into her, it was like they were staring straight into her soul. It felt like he was ripping her to pieces, and she didn't mind.
"Our promises don't mean shit, remember? Remember when you raped my mother! Do you remember that Tate!"
He was gripping so tightly onto the blade that blood started to drip slowly from his hand onto the tiles. He whimpered and a tear fell from his eye. He turned from her and she wanted to run up to him and make love to him again. But she couldn't, her father and mother woud be ashamed if they knew that there daughter was going to get back with their mothers rapist. She shuddered herself at the disgust.
"Violet, I'm so sorry, when are you going to forgive me."
"No Vi, please. Please take me back. I'll do anything, I'll never hurt you ever again. As much as i deserve to suffer I can't do it without you. Please"
He fell to his knees as he spoke and part of Violet broke for him. She then remembered that she was in the bath and grabbed a towel and dabbed her fresh cuts that were screaming at her to go deeper and deeper each time. She quickly put back on some warm clothes and walked away. Leaving Tate sobbing with his head in his hands. While she was walking away she couldn't stop herself from crying. She needed him. But slammed the door shut and slid down the back of the door. She cried loudly, she got angry and threw all of her stuff onto the floor and screamed and kicked. She wore herself out and fell asleep on the floor crying for Tate.
She woke up with an uncomfortable back pain from sleping on the cold hard floor. She felt woozy and stood up. She was so pathetic. She was better than this. She knew what she had to do, and hell nothing was going to stop her from getting him back.