Maniac (American Horror Story)

21 // End

a/n: hey!! this is, sadly, going to be the last chapter of this book. i am elated at how successful it has been, and thank you all for reading!! i'm going to be posting a new fanfic soon, about dylan obrien. keep an eye out for it!

p.s. this is going to be written in the third person

Violet stood with Tate and her parents, the baby crying in her mother's arms. It was strange for her to be looking on an empty house. Even though Summer's family had moved out months ago, no one had gotten used to the emptiness. This was the house's last day. They were coming to tear it down.

She tried to ignore the fact that Tate was extremely angry with her. They hadn't talked for awhile, but had a silent support system. The relationship hadn't been poisoned by hate just yet. Violet grabbed Tate's hand, afraid he would pull away. He didn't, but he didn't hold her hand back.

"I know," she whispered, staring straight ahead. "I know you're mad about Summer. I know I did something terribly wrong, but I forgave you for what you did, Tate. I forgave you because I love you. It's time for you to forgive me, because I'm scared, Tate. I don't know what's going to happen to us once they tear this house down, and I'm scared. I need you."

He listened to her words carefully. He wasn't ready to speak to her; no, not yet. But he did love her. He love her so much it hurt. So, he squeezed her hand and pulled her close. But he didn't say a word. "Tate?" Was holding her hand not enough for her?, he thought. "Tate, look at me."

He looked at her. She wasn't crying and she didn't look hurt. She looked pissed. "I need you to say something that will make it feel a little better. Just a little fucking better. Summer isn't going to matter once this house is gone. Nothing is going to matter." Violet felt her panic rising. "Will we die?"

Tate laughed. He couldn't stop himself. He laughed so hard he couldn't breathe (not that he needed to). "Violet, we're dead, remember?" He spoke quietly, and he didn't say anything comforting, but just the sound of his voice made her feel better.

"Oh, yea." Neither of them said anything more. The Harmons and Tate sat in silence, waiting for their final resting place to come crashing down around them.

It was only the five of them. Violet, her family, and Tate. Everyone else had moved on. Every time they did, Tate cried in frustration. He knew the only thing holding him back now was Violet. He couldn't leave because he loved her, and he couldn't stop.

"I don't believe in God," he remembered telling Violet one day. "If God were real, would my life be so messed up? Would I be so messed up? God is supposed to love all his children equally, so if that bastard was real I would be in Heaven. I wouldn't be here rotting away."

Violet had just looked at him, her expression blank. He could tell she was thinking. "Maybe we have moved on; we're just in Hell." She smiled.

He laughed. "Damn, it sure as hell feels like it, Vi."

He was pulled from his thoughts when the baby began to cry. "Excuse me," Vivian spoke, getting up and leaving the room, hoping to quiet him down.

"Where will we go?" Violet spoke, going to the window to see if anyone was coming. "Will we stay on this empty plot of land? Will they build a new house? Will we just dissapear?"

Ben looked from her to the front door. "Who knows, honey. Who the hell knows."

It wasn't long until the loud rumbles of trucks began sounding outside. Men shouted, metal slammed around. "Here we go," Tate spoke, taking Vi's hand.

They tore into the house with a wrecking ball. Violet had only seen those in movies. She didn't think they would use one. Dust and wood and all kinds of debris collapsed around them.

Construction workers pounded away at the house with the wrecking ball until only the foundation was left, which they began to fill with dirt. Violet felt herself getting dizzy. So did Tate.

It didn't take long for everything to go black.