Some Seek Forgivness

Others Escape

A year.

12 months.

365 days.

31,536,000 seconds since the Harmons deaths in the house. A year of constant baby squeals, ghosts, and another notch in the years I have been in hiding. I have been here for years. Keeping out of sight, my never ending hide and seek game has gotten me through so well that I don't think that anybody remembers that I am still here.
Constance might, but then again, she is dealing with Michael. Tate's devil spawn will wander over here from time to time. Never comes in the house, but stands outside the front window. Just standing. A grin plastered onto his face. It almost seems like he never blinks. Kind of reminds me of the Cheshire Cat.

If you are wondering why I am hiding? Why I didn't do anything to stop what has happened? Here is my excuse. I am terrified of Tate Langdon. I am HERE because of that bastard. I remember everything from when I died. What the weather was like, which it was Sunny. Who died, who was injured, what drugs Tate did. I know it all, and the only reason I know it is because I was here with him. Believe it or not, Tate was not always some murderous, obsessive, mood swinging psychopath. Also, although you may assume I am some grunge chick, or preppy girl who fell for the psychopath. I am neither. I am completely average, or was, completely normal. As far as I was concerned, I just wanted to graduate. I wanted to be something. I wanted to go places. The days leading up to my death, I should have seen it coming.

Tate started to act really weird towards me. He would non stop ask me where I was, what I was doing, if I wanted to come over after school. He was also constantly next to me at school, as if I was not allowed to leave his sight. Then, on the day he was to shoot up the school, he had called me at 6 am sharp to tell me to skip and go to his house. One day not going to school wasn't gonna kill me, no pun intended. When I got to his house, he wasn't there. Constance, his mother, was home however. She told me to just go upstairs and wait for him to get home, which in my head seemed weird because it was only 12 pm.

I sat and waited for him to get home. At some point I had taken a nap, and when I woke up, Tate was running up the stairs and into the room. He slammed the door shut, and as soon as he saw me, he captured my lips to his, and held me. When he held me, I completely zoned out. It felt weird, because he was my friend, not some lover, and or sexual partner I had been with a couple times. He flat out kissed me. In what felt like minutes, we parted, and I slapped him. The slap seemed to echo off the walls of his room, and the facial expression I received was unlike the Tate I met when we were little.

"Why did you slap me? I saved you and sent you here so that we could be free."
Free? That confused me the most. What did we need to be free from? All of my questions were answered when I heard banging and shouting from downstairs. I looked to him, tears starting to collect between my eyelids. What the fuck did he do?

"What did you do Tate? Please, what did you do? I don't understand..?" He smiles at me, and it unnerves me. Something has been wrong for weeks, days, I don't know how long. I don't know how I didn't see it, and how if I did see it I let it go by without even recognizing the signs. I knew he was depressed, I knew he hated his mother. I knew he did drugs, he had told me before. I told him to quit while he was ahead, and his reply was "it's the only thing that helps."

"I didn't do anything bad. I promise." He is a terrible liar. It is so easy to tell when he is lying or insincere when he says things. His body language said the opposite. He hugged me to him again, and I listened to the foot steps come running to the door. Then I feel the cool metal poking into my chest.

Unfortunately, that is where everything turns black. I can hear Tate's whispers through the darkness. "We'll be okay now, see? We're safe from the cruel world. We'll be together." He would call out to me, for months, trying to find me. When he would call, I'd hide deeper. I would hide forever if I could.