Souls of Monsters {Murder House}

•chapter two•

"Hi, I'm Tate."

Blowing out a puff of smoke, I smile. "Hello Tate."

"I saw what they did in the hallway."

"Did you now?" he nodded.

"They're all assholes."

I let out a laugh. "I figured." I patted the ground next to me, motioning for him to sit down. He sat and just looked at me. "Now, is that the only reason why you have come to visit me today?" He took a minute to think.

"I'm not sure."

"Did you come here for a smoke?" I motioned a cigarette towards his face and he shook his head.

"No thanks, I'd rather not kill myself." I laughed at this

"Just one won't kill you."

"'Just one' could lead to an addiction, which can kill you."

"Fair enough." I stuffed that cigarette back in the pack and smushed the other on the ground. I looked back over at Tate and we just stared at each other for a while.

"Got any Kurt Cobain?" My eyes lit up at the sound of his name.

"Hell yeah." I grabbed his hand and led him to my room where my many records were displayed. Tate smiled, showing off his dimples. Now that I've had a good look at him, he's really cute. In life, I've never really had crushes on anyone before and I don't really know how to react to having one. I guess I'll find out soon.

"What's your favorite?" Tate asked, turning to face me.

"Hm. Probably 'Smells Like Teen Spirit.'" He nodded his head in approval and placed my 'Nevermind' record in the player and we just listened. There wasn't really anymore conversation, but that was okay because I could tell that we would get along. After about ten minutes of just listening, I heard the front door open.

"Shane, is that you?" I shouted.

"Yeah," Shane replied, coming towards my room. I lowered the volume and looked at Tate.

"Little brother," I mouthed and he nodded his head. Shane walked into my room and stopped in the doorway when he saw Tate. He raised his eyebrows at him and Tate just awkwardly waved. "Shane, this is Tate." I introduced them to each other and Shane had yet to lower his eyebrows.

"Um, I'm gonna go do my homework..." he backed out of my room slowly and ran dos the hall.

"He doesn't like me," Tate spoke up.

"He doesn't know you," I reminded him. "Hell, I don't know you either. But in my opinion, I like you." Tate smiled and I smirked.

I unzipped my hoodie and slipped it off, laying it on my bed. Tate's eyes drifted to my wrist. Oh God. Slit wrists are a big turn off. I pulled my wrist to my lap, blushing.

"It's okay, I do it too sometimes." He rolled up his sleeve to reveal small, but visible, cuts. "This one was from when my dad left, I was ten I think."

I held up my left wrist, revealing the freshest one. "Two weeks ago after getting into a fight with my dad. It was about me being a "worthless bitch" or something like that." Tate scrunched his eyebrows.

"No father should treat his daughter like that."

"You're telling me. Whenever my mom wasn't around, he used to just slap me straight across the face for...I don't even remember."

"Where's your mom now?"

"She's dead."

"Oh...I'm sorry." He looked down at his lap.

"It's fine. It happened last year, I'm over it," I lied. Truth is, that was the worst thing that happened to me. Not being bullied to the point of making up excuses for my bruises, or being confined to myself in my room crying myself to sleep most nights. No, it was my mother's death. It still hurts me because she was possibly the only person that understood me and accepted me. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

"I'll be right back," I told Tate, rushing to my bathroom. I grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the tears so my mascara wouldn't run. I didn't want Tate to know how broken I really was, not yet. Returning to my room, I saw Tate looking through my book collection.

"I wouldn't take you for much of a poem girl." He held up my copy of 'The Poems of Edgar Allan Poe.'

"Well, his poems are very dark. I take interest in stuff like that." He nodded his head, placing it back on the shelf. "Shouldn't your mom be worried that you're not home?"

"Oh, she doesn't care. She's with her...never mind."

"Um, okay. Well, my dad's going to be home soon and won't be very happy that I have a boy over on my first day in L.A." He nodded his head. "I can walk you home?" He looked up at me and nodded his head once more, causing me to smile. This is by-far the most I've smiled since my mom died. I walk in the kitchen and write a note for my dad.

"Went on a walk, be back before dinner.
-Sage"

I stuck it on the counter. "Shane! I'm gonna walk Tate home, I left a note for dad so don't feel the need to remember," I yelled to him.

"Wasn't going to!" he yelled back. I rolled my eyes and opened the door. Standing in front of me was my father.

"Oh...hi, dad..." he looked over at Tate and then back at me. He squinted his eyes and grabbed my forearm. "Uh, dad. I was walking Tate home."

"Not anymore." he pulled me inside and slammed the door. He threw me onto the couch and gave me a disapproving glare. "We've been here one day, one day Sage and you've already had boys over!" he shouted, spitting in my face.

"It's not a big deal, we were just listening to music."

"Oh were you?" I nodded. "You lying little slut." He slapped me across the face and I held my cheek. The tears were falling now and I ran towards the door before he could snatch me again. I ran down the sidewalk and saw Tate standing by a tree close to my house.

"I figured you'd wait." He smiled, but it soon faded when he saw my tears and a red mark across my face.

"Did he...?" I merely nodded, more tears falling. He looked towards my house and then back at me.

"I'm sorry, I met you today and I'm already crying," I sniffled and he cracked a smile.

"It's okay. But I can't let you go back there tonight." I looked up at him, confused. "You can stay with me."

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ok, this chapter sucks. but I just needed to get it moving along y'know. and I know what you guys must be thinking "wtf, they met today and he's letter her stay at his house?" yes, yes because why not. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

updates are at random...hope you keep reading if you haven't already stopped :)))