Fanfictional
Would you like to react to this message? Create an account in a few clicks or log in to continue.
March 2024
SunMonTueWedThuFriSat
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31      

Calendar Calendar

Visitor and Stalker
Dreamer

You are visitor #

hit counter script

Tag Us!
Latest topics
» I wanna be your boyfriend(a Joey Ramone fan fiction)
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty5/5/2015, 3:08 am by Autumn85

» I remember High School
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty4/30/2015, 10:59 am by LauraRamone

» Push and Pull of Love and Hate (Yi Jeong&Ga Eul)
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty10/24/2013, 5:01 pm by dolce

» Blind Love {COMPLETED}
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty9/21/2013, 8:41 pm by lychandesu

» Site Update: PLEASE READ
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty7/21/2013, 7:48 pm by shawty_12

» I'm Cool? [Yoosu & Yunjae]
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty12/11/2012, 7:09 pm by 3ternallove

» Step By Step Tutorial of Posting, Formatting ect.
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty5/21/2012, 3:29 am by robertstanley

» My Girlfriend is My Bodyguard [Cho Kyu Hyun & Kim So Eun]
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty4/10/2012, 2:01 am by han28

» [MV] After School - Bang!
American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty3/15/2012, 7:23 am by BongChab2utySONE


American Horror Story Fanfic.

Go down

American Horror Story Fanfic. Empty American Horror Story Fanfic.

Post by thewretchedwriter 12/28/2011, 1:17 pm

Chapter one- Apologies


Violet reached for that familiar blade, the relief to her emotional pain. She glanced at her scars, and cringed. With a sigh, she tediously traced over her previous cuts, inhaling sharply with the shock of pain, and exhaling smoothly with satisfaction as the crimson liquid started to bead up on her pale skin. Her brown eyes started to water a bit. She was trapped, this kept her going, functioning, or as much as a ghost can. She shook with the memory of seeing her decaying body in the basement. She blinked her thoughts away, and sat down in the recognizable antique bathtub, and slid the razor over her wrists again.
“You know that doesn’t help, love.” A voice from the doorway spoke.
She jumped a bit, and turned to the voice she’d had a love-hate relationship with.
“Tate, I’m dead, not an Alzheimer’s patient. But apparently you are. I haven’t forgotten what you have done, but clearly you have. I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
“Vi, I love you-“
“Tate, I love you too. But you haven’t changed. I will always love you, but I need time. And fortunately, that’s one thing we have an abundance of.” Violets voice got sharp, as she wrapped her wrists and dashed out of the room.
She crept up to the attic, and as she sighed, a red rubber ball rolled to her feet.
“Hello, Beau. I’ve missed you.” She rolled the ball towards him, and sat down on his bed. Vi had become quite fond of this misunderstood boy. Chains rattled against the old wood floor, which creaked as Beau walked up and sat by violet, Sometimes his only friend. She took a deep breath of the old house’s scent, and exhaled as a tear rolled down her pale and cold cheek. It had taken all her strength to tell Tate she hadn’t forgiven him. She seemed to collapse a bit, to melt onto the dark, cold wood floor. She curled up into a fetal position, and started crying. Beau whined a bit, unsure what to do. He sat next to her, attempting to comfort his companion.

She was awoken by her father’s weeping, accompanied by her mother’s quick pacing across the room, and back, and so on. Somewhere the ginger twins screamed as Thaddeus’ terrorized them. Hayden’s rant to Chad and Patrick about how she would have taken care of the baby, if Constance hadn’t abducted it. But she had not heard Tate. He had seemed to stay silent, or at least he planned to, until violet, his soul mate, needed him.
He had apologized many times in his head. He just didn’t feel the need to anger her again.
She had apologized in whispers to herself, apologizing to her parents, for the selfish act of suicide she committed.
Vivien apologized in her mind constantly; she felt the weight of guilt on her shoulders, for pushing her husband to suicide.

This house was full of apologies.
None of them heard.
Whispered for only the walls to hear.
“If walls could speak…” Tate whispered to himself.

thewretchedwriter

Posts : 1
Reputation : 0
Join date : 2011-12-28

Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum