Short A/N: Please read the A/N at the end of this and I also suggest reading the last chapter since I've edited it a bit and its been a while. Side Note: Please listen to the song "Our Love Comes Back" by James Blake that I've linked on the side. Just have it on replay, it's very nice and makes you feel some type of way. Enjoy, lovelies.
VIOLET
“A selfish person can still love someone else, can't they? Even when they've hurt them and let them down”
The thought of ever leaving my bed hasn't crossed my mind much. I get up every now and then to head to the loo or maybe grab a cup of tea, but that's been about it. No more, no less.
I can just feel him all over me. Trace. His rough caresses over my breasts or harsh thrusts against me and I just want to drown myself in my mattress. Dad has tried to comfort me but I haven't been able to explain what's wrong. I can't say the words. He says my forehead is on fire and I feel that way. I feel a fire in the pit of my body and not the sultry, sexy kind.
I understand Harry now. I understand that burning desire in me to be dead. I thought I understood before, but I never really did. I feel it, that dead feeling in me. My corpse is just laying here and my mind is somewhere in a desperate, fantasy land.
I sit under the sheets and count how long I can last without breathing. It's a stupid game I play with myself, I guess. About how long would it take for me to stop breathing? Thrashing the blanket off of me, I gasp for air. I want to die, but I'm a coward. A f-cking coward. I want to feel pain, but I'm too cowardly to try. I have felt as if I've experienced the worst of pains. Worst than breaking a bone or slicing your wrists. Those pains heal, mine just sits and constrains me for hours, days.
I know I have to get back to work for Dad, and Burta, and my group patients, and Harry. But all motivation evaporates in seconds when the thought of Trace crosses my mind.
Yesterday, I got myself up and ready (as much as I could, though I looked like I hadn't slept in days). I even drove myself there and it was about five in the afternoon when I arrived. (The desire to go early wasn't the vital thing on my mind, I just felt I shouldn't abandon my group therapy patients. They were the only reason for me to get out of bed that gloomy evening.)
I walked in and caught similar eyes all wondering in my direction. I knew I looked awful, but hadn't anyone seen a sleep deprived human in their life? The elevator had taken me to the teen/young adult section of Whemmington and as the doors opened, I caught Burta's stare. As her mouth widened to say something, I lipped her a small smile and walked my way to the rec room. I looked through the glass window in the double doors and saw everyone sitting in a small circle. Nurse Claudia was already seated and conversed with my patients. I soon saw Harry with folded fingers in is lap and a blank expression, staring at his feet. I knew Harry, I knew he did that when something important was on his mind. But I couldn't stand the sight of him. Claudia had it under control and I didn't belong. The fact I've let him down the past weak for my own selfishness hit me.
I couldn't be here, I had let everyone down.
My feet ran before my mind could, before I could even process the thought of moving. I had my head held low as I passed the pharmacy. I knew Trace would be there and the possibility of seeing him in person made me weak at the knees. I had almost reached the elevator before I felt a hand on my shoulder.
My skin crawled and I jerked away from the disgusting sense of touch.
"Violet! It's just me, Harry." I heard, it sounded faint and muffled. Once I realized it was indeed Harry, the eagerness to leave revolted my urge to stay. I told him I had to go and tried to make my way but he yanked my weak limb his way. The touch was unsatisfying and I yelled at him before eluding his company.
