A loving father desperate for power. A mother trying to save her family. A girl named Violet trying to find out what went wrong in her life and why her father is desperate for her to sacrifice her soul to an evil book.
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I woke up surrounded by bright lights. My vision of everything around me was blurry and my head throbbed with severity. No one was in the room with me, but I knew where I was.
In the hospital.
This time, I wasn't surprised at all by the situation. Closing my eyes, I let out a long sigh, thinking about what had happened to me. I was glad that I remembered everything. My drunkard mother, the bottle, and her chasing me. There was a voice in my head telling me to cry and feel sorry for myself. I ignored it. I wanted to cry, but how would that change anything?
Before getting too deep in my thoughts, there were three loud knocks at the door. I heard a few nurses telling someone not to open the door, but that didn't stop whoever wanted to get in so bad.
The first person I saw when the door open was my dad. He spotted me and my eyes went wide. "Sweetheart," he said, trying to walk towards me. However, he was unsuccessful. Two female nurses argued with him to let them check me first and that he could get into trouble if he didn't obey their rules.
"Dad," I said, trying to get his attention. "I'm okay." I lied.
He just nodded his head and let the nurses push him back near the door. He let the ladies check on me, my bandages, my blood pressure, and everything else. After they were done, my father got a chair and sat next to my bed.
"Hey dad," I said wearily. The smile on my face took me by surprise. Him smiling at me, holding my hand, and just being there for me is everything I wanted as a child. That's why I smiled, because right there in front of me was the dad I never had and the one I always wanted.
"Hey honey," he gently rubbed the back of my head. "I came as soon as I heard. I hope you're alright."
"How're you?" I asked, not wanting to answer his question.
"I'm better now that I'm here," he said, propping his leg up on my bed. "Abby asked about you. She broke down when she heard the news."
"Really?"
"Oh yes, she was devastated. She wanted to come in, but she thinks you're mad at her."
I didn't say anything. For a second I almost forgot about the eye incident. I almost forgot about how Abby betrayed me and made me look like a total idiot. How much do I have to go through to know something wasn't right. I've lived with my mother and father my whole life and I don't remember a single year where something didn't go wrong or I wasn't totally depressed.
I took a deep breath. "Get out, dad," I mumbled. "I don't want you here and I don't want mom here." The words came out as smooth as water, but so did the tears. I'm sure my father saw my cheeks turning red as I tried to hide my face from him.
The only thing I got out of my father was a sigh. Afterward, he stood up and headed for the door. I was hoping he'd say something. Anything. Maybe tell me that I'm not crazy, that there is something wrong here. I wanted him to tell me anything because I was two seconds away from having a breakdown.
"Violet," he said. "If you need me, I'll be home. My doors are always open to you." That's all he said before closing the door, leaving me alone to myself. Leaving me alone to my sadness, confusion, and my loneliness. I felt like I had no one and that my parents had given up on me a long time ago. My parents always provided me with gifts and money, but all I wanted was their love and attention. They failed to give that to me.
I pulled the wires off of me carefully. There was a little beep that went off, but it didn't last long. No nurses came. I stepped out of the bed with my head still throbbing. I stared at the floor and my head began to spin. It took me longer than it should have to notice that there was a bag next to my foot. It was a bag with my clothes with a card written inside.
"Daddy loves you. Found these in your closet. Your favorite jeans and shirt."
I frowned at the bag, but not because I didn't want the clothes. I wanted to take them and leave and run far away from the hospital. But I couldn't. I was in no shape to do so. I laid back in my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about never returning to my parents again.
A knock at the door broke me out of my thoughts. I turned and saw a nurse welcome Mariel into the room. Mariel walked over to me, barely smiling. The nurse then left the room, leaving me and Mariel to ourselves.
"Violet," she said, taking a seat on my bed. "How're you feeling?"
I smiled at her. "Like a puppet who needs strings to move. My body is really stiff," I said, showing her my hands then plopping them back down on my stomach.
Mariel shook her head. "You poor thing. I heard what happened."
"Don't tell me it went viral."
Mariel looked away for a second. "It did. Around the neighborhood and at school. Congrats. You earned a name on the judgment list. The school says your mom is a drunk who abuses you."
That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I closed my eyes, stopping the tears from escaping. "I hate school. I was better off homeschooled."
"School is cursed," Mariel said. "It's like war, sometimes you don't make it out alive. You have to struggle to survive and get past obstacles that are like freaking..." she waved her hands in the air, looking for the right word. "Barriers this big! This is a school. It's not supposed to be this hard."
She tried to hide a tear with her finger but it was too late. I saw it before she wiped it. Something was wrong with her. Soon I noticed something else. She wasn't wearing any of her bracelets. Just a sweater that didn't hide her wrist. Seeing her wrist made me want to cry for her. I wondered how far she cut because I didn't see an end point to them.
I pat my hand on my bed and moved over. There was enough room for her. "Want to take a nap over here?" I asked. "Or do you have a ride back home?"
She wiped her eyes again, then smiled. "My ride left for an hour," she scooted next to me then laid down. Thank goodness she was super skinny so it wasn't a tight squeeze. Although her legs did hang off of the bed because she was so tall. "Thank you, Violet," she said, staring up at the ceiling.
During moments like this with Mariel, I felt safe. She was a real true friend. Someone who understood me and someone I probably wouldn't understand any time soon. I wanted to understand her more and decided to take the chances by asking something I always wanted to.
"Mariel," I said. "Instead of sleeping, can I know more about you."
"No," she snapped. "I'm afraid that I can't trust anyone anymore."
The room went quiet for a while. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "Fine. I'll tell you about me. I'll tell you everything." I said. I felt the need to tell someone and Mariel was an understanding person. Maybe she could help me. Maybe she could tell me what to do, or tell me if I'm crazy. I needed a trustworthy friend and I knew Mariel was that friend. I was sure of it.
