Stuck in Eternity

Chapter One

The water from the dripping pipe above me dribbled onto my exposed forehead as I slowly returned from a useless afternoon nap. I glanced around the dank, cement basement and heard the ever-present sobs of Nora from the other room. There was once a time in my life, or death, when I actually pitied this woman. Unfortunately, considering the chain of events that unfolded about ten years ago, I have a hard time feeling anything but hatred for this woman. If I didn't feel so indebted to her, I wouldn't have done the unforgivable task that stole my true love away from me for eternity.

I pushed myself off the cold ground and looked up at the ceiling, knowing that two floors above me was the most radiant girl that I had ever seen. Closing my eyes, I envisioned her sweet smirk and sparkling eyes full of mystery and sorrow that had entranced me so many years ago. I longed to be with her for eternity, but as a result of my forceful relationship with her mother Violet refused to even look at me.

It had been six years since the last time I tried to approach Violet. On that day, she was wearing a baggy purple dress that she cinched with a fashionable black rope belt. I walked around the corner of the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the birds flitting around the garden, but instead bumped into something much more beautiful.

Violet was sitting on top of the wall, reading a book and smoking a cigarette. The sunlight was lighting up her pale face and illuminating the blonde in her hair. Her beauty caught me off guard, so all I could do was stand still and stare at my lost love.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, without glancing up from her book.

"Ugh... um... I was just... and the... birds? The spring..." I managed to stammer in response, clearly unprepared to be in her presence again. It's actually quite surprising how easy it is to avoid someone for so many years, even though you are living in the same house.

"Whatever. I was leaving anyway," she shot back, dropping her cigarette onto the brick ground and stamping it out, even though she had clearly just lit it a short time ago. She gathered her things and began to walk back into the house, trying hard to keep her head down.

"Wait, Vi! I haven't seen you in, like, four years. Why can't we talk for a second? I mean, we are stuck here for eternity... We might as well get along..."

"You are the reason I'm stuck here!" she swore at me, pronouncing each consonant with such power, as if it were the only thing that mattered to her.

"Oh come on," I mumbled, feeling my temper heating up as I continued, "you know that you did that to yourself! You know it's not my goddamn fault!" I saw the vein in her neck flinch slightly as I screamed at her.

"Fuck off, Tate," she muttered as she pushed past me and continued walking into the house.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, clutching my wavy, blonde hair and accepted the knife that Violet had emotionally stabbed into my gut.

I sat on the brick half-wall and emptied a cigarette from my squished, cardboard box and lit it in one expert motion. My skin soaked in the much needed sunlight and my stresses were temporarily erased with the toxins of the cigarette. The only decent part of being dead was the guilt-free way I could smoke my cigarettes now.

I opened a book on my lap and began to fall into a happier world when I suddenly sensed him. I could feel his surprise and bit my lip, willing myself not to look up at him. If he could sense my weakness, I was convinced that he would also be able to sweep me off my feet one more time.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound as cold as possible. He responded with unintelligent mumbling that settled my nerves a little more. Knowing that he was more shy than I was gave me more strength than any cigarette could. However, I still knew that I had to get away from him as fast as possible before he found his confidence again.

"Whatever. I was leaving anyway," I muttered as I grabbed my book and threw my cigarette onto the ground, cursing myself for having wasted a perfectly good cigarette. You'd think that after four years of time to "forgive and forget" I would move on from him, but of course it's never that easy.

"Wait, Vi! I haven't seen you in, like, four years. Why can't we talk for a second? I mean, we are stuck here for eternity... We might as well get along..." The pleading tone in his voice made me want to open my arms to him, but I knew that was the wrong thing to do. I knew that by allowing him back into my life, I would be hurting my parents more than they deserve.

"You're the reason I'm stuck here!" I feebly shouted back, knowing that it was a terrible excuse to continue my silence towards him. I took my own life because I was immature and overwhelmed by curiosity. I shouldn't blame him, but my parents have drilled it into my head that it is his fault because they don't know the true story of my suicide. I mean, how could I tell them? It would break their hearts to know that they had some effect on my suicide and I would hate to see them suffer with that realization, on top of everything else, for eternity.

Looking up for the first time at him, I saw his face heating up with anger. I really should have known my thoughtless words would set him off, especially since he is probably one of the few people in this world that cares about me more than themselves.

"Oh, come on, you know that you did that to yourself! You know it's not my goddamn fault!" he shouted into my face. I quickly looked away from him, out of fear that he would see the tears in my eyes. I know understood why my initial reaction before we even started talking was fear. He wasn't an innocent, heart-broken boy. He was a monster. How could I ever even consider forgiving a guy like him? He's the type of guy who would force his dominance upon a woman. He has already done that once with my mother. I could still feel a fire of love and lust burning within my frozen heart, but every other part of me realizes his savagery.

He may have upset me with his yells, but no one upsets Violet Harmon without Hell to pay.

"Fuck off, Tate," I spit at him, stalking out of the patio and leaving him to seethe in rage alone.