f e v e r

chapter II - fate

 TW: SUICIDE MENTION AND ABUSE

Every Friday was the same for her. She would come home, change out of her school uniform into something more comfortable which was always leggings and an oversized sweater that hung off her shoulder. Then she lay there in her bed waiting for him.

Her father was a businessman who never came home except on friday nights to get drunk. She dreaded it every time he came home. After her mother's suicide her father started blaming her when really he was to blame.

So she waited there on her bed dreaming of when she could leave home. One more month till she was eighteen then a few more till she graduated. Till then she waited for her alcoholic father to come home.

It didn't take long for the moment she heard the door open she heard her father yell, "Violet get me a beer from the fridge!"

At the sound of his usual demand she face planted her pillow, groaning loudly into it. She did not want to deal with this. It was Friday, it was the middle of her senior. Peace and quiet was too much to ask for on a friday night.

"Violet!" He shouted out again, sounding angrier than before.

"I'm getting it!"

She rolled off her bed, leaving the safety of the bedroom. She walked to the kitchen grabbing the only beer in the fridge. Shutting the door with a sigh, she went to the kitchen handing him the beer.

"What is this?"

"The beer you wanted," Violet bit down on her tongue to hold back the smart remark that was fighting to roll off her tongue.

He snatched it from her hand causing her to stumble back, "You're welcome," she snapped.

He responded by sneering at her and she just rolled her eyes. It wasn't such a smart move.

He snatched Violet by the arm, jerking her down with more strength than needed. His large hand tight around her arm to the point she was afraid he was going to snap it.

"Don't you ever roll those eyes at me," anger dripped off his words.

Violet narrowed her eyes down at him, "Or what? You will throw me around like you did mom?"

The back of his hand connected with her face knocking her to the floor. Stunned, she got herself off the floor, body shaking with anger. She dared not look at him.

"I hope you go to hell," she spat.

Walking to the door, grabbing her shoes quickly before leaving, slamming the door behind her. She couldn't stay there another second. Putting her shoes on, she began to walk away from the house with no destination.

A downpour began not long after she left. Soaking her clothes, hair, shoes, every part of her body to the bone. Continuing to walk, wrapping her arms around her small body as the chill set in her mind wandered. Her father did her mom the same way but blamed Violet for her death. An excuse to hurt her in his drunken rage.

Breaking through the rain's drumming and her thoughts was the sound of a motorcycle. Keeping her head down to avoid looking in the motorcyclist direction. Trying not to draw his attention to her.

It didn't work. She could hear him pull up beside her the engine being louder than the rain. She could hardly see who it was due to the slick darkness of the bike and the rider.

"Violet?"

Stopping in her tracks, she looked at the stranger. He clicked the straps of his helmet, taking it off to shake his hair out. Running his fingers through his messy hair he lifted his head up shaking his head in obvious disbelief.

For he wasn't a stranger after all. He was the art teacher from her school, Mr. Julian Monroe.

//
2 chapters in one night wow! I'm really trying not to rush this but I am, sadly.

If you like the story so far please let me know by leaving a vote or commenting. It is really appreciated!

Again I have not revised this to edit for any mistakes so there was probably a few.