Green-Eyed | Violentine

Part Thirty-Five | I'm Wearing A Smile I Don't Believe In

When Clementine wakes up in the morning, she feels sick.

Her eyes are heavy from the exhaustion of a night of interrupted and fitful sleep, and when she sits up in bed, she notes how twisted the sheets are. The fabric is wrapped around her legs, constricting her movement and making her feel trapped. She huffs and wipes the sweat on her brow away with her hand, trembling slightly at the memory of her nightmare.

Shrugging the material off Clementine gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom to wash her face. When she meets her gaze in the reflection, she can see how tired she is. Dark circles accentuate her under eyes, and her hair is a knotted mess. She swallows the lump in her throat and turns on the shower, hopeful that the warm water will ease her aching muscles and troubled mind.

She still feels sick as she towels her hair dry and dresses for the day. The pain cramps in her stomach as she brushes her teeth. She swears to herself as she picks her phone up. Unaware of how one nightmare could have woven its way into her waking moments. She feels a wave of relief wash over her when she unlocks her phone and sees an unread text from Violet has come through while she was in the shower.

Violet: Good morning. I hope you slept well. I'll walk to university with you today if you want, just let me know x

Typically Clementine would happily get a lift with her father, but after her nightmare, she needs to talk to Violet. She doesn't hesitate before typing out a 'yes' in response.

-

Violet's sitting outside her trailer when the text comes through. Inside the mobile home, she can hear her father yelling at her mother. Violet grits her teeth as she subconsciously listens to the conversation inside the trailer. Her mother leaves the mobile home with a huff as she shrugs her coat onto her shoulders. She pauses as she sees Violet sitting on the porch and she smiles weakly at her daughter.

"Are you going to university?" questions her mother adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she glances at the trailer with a frown. From inside a series of vulgar shouts emit.

Violet nods. "Walk with me?" asks her mother softly as she picks her way down the path towards the entrance. Violet does as she's told, grateful that she can get away from the trailer for the day. She glances at her mother as they walk in synchronicity, she looks tired. She's looked tired for years now.

"Is everything okay Violet? Are you doing okay at university with your friends?"

Violet nods and looks confused. "Yeah, why?"

Her mother clears her throat before she speaks again, "that stuff last week with that redhead. When she came to the trailer, it seemed like she was trying to aggravate your father, and then you tell me that she's not even Clementine? I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay, you're not being bullied, are you?"

Violet struggles to come up with a reply as she trudges by her mother's side. "It's just typical girl bitchiness," she explains, knowing her mother is stressed enough as it is without Violet laying all of her tension on her.

Her mother slowly nods as she digests the answer. As mother and daughter reach the entrance of the trailer park, the older woman slows her pace,  fishing m in her bag for the keys to the beaten-up pickup truck that sits rusting beneath a tree.

"Violet, I have something I need to talk to you about," she says as she grips the keys in her hand. Violet's mother places her free hand on her daughter's shoulder as she looks down at Violet. she looks uneasy and holds Violet's gaze, gently clearing her throat before she speaks again.

"I'm leaving your father."

Violet's stress and dread that has built up over the years exits her body in a large exhale as her shoulders drop with relief. "Our relationship hasn't been healthy for years," her mother explains as if Violet couldn't tell. Violet can't help but think that her birth must have been the changing point. "I'm unhappy in this marriage, and I'm not happy with the way he treats you."