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09 - spooky little girl

"Tate?" Constance called, making her way down the basement stairs. "Tate, honey, it's mama. I have to talk to you." She said, making her way around the basement she no longer had any rights too. "Tate? Tate?"

"So talk." He said, appearing behind his mother.

"Oh, oh, god." She let out, turning to face the boy. "Tell me it isn't true, what I've been hearing about you." She demanded lightly, as she latched into her son, forcing him to listen.

"About what?" Tate whispered out, staring at his mother with mild curiosity — childlike wonder. Childlike wonder that was too innocent to match his crimes.

"Your behaviour." She whispered out, pushing some of his hair back. "God, after all the missteps, we finally have someone in this house that maybe can help you." She whispered, keeping her hands on her son's shoulders, neck and face. "Tell me you did not crawl on top of that man's wife."

Tate said nothing, watching his mother with tearful eyes.

"Oh." She let out, shaking her head, looking down in pain and disappointment.

"Mama, mama, you can't tell Valerie, or Parker, okay?" He tried to bargain. "Please don't—"

Tate's words were cut of by the woman hitting him. Anger taking over her body in a few mere seconds. The hitting didn't stop as he cowered in to the wall sobbing and pleading for her to stop.

"What is wrong with you, for God sakes?" She demanded. "What's wrong with you?"

"Mama!"

"Don't you realise what you've done?"

Tate sobbed as he sat weakly on the floor bring his mother to her senses. She placed a hand over her mouth upon realising her use of physical assault on her child.

Tears too left the mothers eyes.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

When Parker had come down to the basement, she hadn't expected to find her brother a sobbing mess on the basement floor after she had had a small peculiar conversation with her mother.

The fifteen year kneeled down next to her brother, holding her arms out and offering him safety.

It was the first time since the first day of November — minus him informing her off Violet nearly having to leave — she had even looked at him.

She held her sobbing brother, running her fingers through his hair as she promised he was safe.

Parker had no idea what had gone down and for all she cared or could have been nothing, but the girl was weak to her siblings break downs.

"What happened?" She asked gently, keeping him held in her arms, despite the tears dampening her red sweater. Tate shook his head, and she merely nodded, allowing him his silence as she pressed a kiss to his head. "Ok." She whispered out. "Am I right to assume our mother did something?" She questioned. Tate nodded and she held him tighter. "Do you want Valerie?" He shook his head and she whispered out an 'ok'.

Just like that the Langdon siblings remained in her basement dealing with a sobbing teenage boy.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Valerie and Violet were in the latter's room, discussing trivial topics as they read. The sisters were happy together — they always had been happy together.

Valerie and Violet were the type of siblings parents wanted. The sisters who'd go to the ends of the world for another — die for each other. The sisters many mistake for best friends, but the thing was, Valerie and Violet were best friends, each other's right hand woman and the most important person to one another.

Valerie and Violet had spent rarely any moments of there lives apart from one another, and neither could imagine going on with out the other.

Due to such reasons, Violet couldn't leave — she wouldn't and she won't. She needed her sister, her right hand woman, dead or alive. Valerie was Valerie, and that's all she needed.

"I love you." Valerie let out, filling the silence that had long fallen around them.

Violet looked at her sister, the two making eye contact. "I love you too." She promised. She reached her hand out, holding out her pinkie, Valerie laughed lightly as she wrapped her pinkie around her sisters. "Forever?"

"Forever."