Misery Business {A.H.S} (COMPLETED)

5; Worse And Worse

Usually all was quiet in the house, even with me being able to walk now. My walk was more of hobbled limp. I still need to use walls for support, but I was getting better. This morning, I woke up more tired than when I had fallen asleep and was desperate for a cup of coffee. A loud clang from the dining room startled me. I shuffled in as fast as I could to see what the ruckus was about. On the table sat my lock box open with Hayden, Patrick, and Chad all surrounding a book. My personal diary. "Where did you get that?" I demanded to know how they even opened it. I had encircled it with salt and hid it under my bed. It should have been untouchable for them. "Oh just found it laying around. Didn't know what it was at first, but when I opened it your initials were smack dab on the first page." Hayden said looking up from the book. A sick smile was etched into her lips. "I'm curious." Chad said holding a glass of wine. "Yeah what's it say?" Patrick added leaning on the table.

"Shall we take a look see?" Hayden said waving my diary around. The gay couple nodded eagerly and leaned over with sly smirks, peering at the pages I spilled my secrets into. I kept my face stern, if they knew how much those secrets actually meant to me, it would be game over. "Cadence Marshall, 07/21/00 to 05/13/06, shot." Hayden read from the first page. "So, who's Cadence and what do all these dates mean Hannah?" Chad asked pointing at the book and looking at me. "Wait, isn't your last name Marshall?" Patrick stated leaning over Hayden's shoulder. "Cadence was my older brother." I deadpanned glancing around the room to see if anyone else was listening in. "And the dates?" Hayden asked, an eerie smile stretched across her face. "His birth and death dates." I stated slowly approaching the trio around the table.

"If that's so then he was-" Chad began, but I interrupted, impatient with them for making this pain drag on. "Yes, god damn it! He was six when my father shot him to death! He died in my crib trying to protect me! My father ripped me from his hands and put a bullet between his eyes! Care to know what happened to my mother!?" I screamed ripping my personal journal away from them.

My face felt hot and my eyes stung, but I wouldn't let them see me cry. My breathing was ragged, but the metal details on the book I traced were calming. I leaned over the table trying to clear my head. I could still feel them behind me, their expressions I didn't care about. "Go away!" I shouted. Turning on my heels to still see them behind me. "Go away!" I screamed closing my eyes tight. As I opened them, the trio was gone and I was alone again in the dining room. My head was pounding and the world seemed dizzy. I grabbed my journal and ran up stairs to my room. My legs hurt in their wrappings as I bounded up the steps. I placed the journal in it's lock box under my bed again. Then grabbed my headphones and my sleeping pills. I poured them into my hand and swallowed two without a drink. I plugged my headphones into my Walkman, cranked the music all the way up, and laid down on the bed. I allowed my breathing to slow and the world to fade to black.

I awoke what felt like an eternity later. My body felt like lead, I didn't want to move. Just lay here in my bed. Cozy and warm under the sheets with Kit and never leave. It would be easier. To live a life in a bed. Never moving, forever comfortable. I could hear a bang come from downstairs and it startled me right out of my sleepy trance. I carefully ran down the stairs and what I saw in the kitchen made my heart shatter.

Tate and Violet were on the kitchen counter, kissing each other with vigor. I felt all the air leave my body, like I had been punched in the gut. Tate must have heard me gasp, because he stopped kissing Violet and looked right at me. His face was twisted in realization and regret. "Hannah I-", "GO AWAY!" I screamed at them. "GO AWAY! GO AWAY!" I screamed, covering my ears and closing my eyes. Had he known the same trick he taught me would be used against him, I honestly don't think he would have ever told me about it.

When they vanished I ran up the stairs to my studio. I poured one of the vials of salt from the corner in front of the door, preventing any spirit from entering. I sat in the plexiglass booth crying. I cried and cried as my heart broke, again and again. I walk outside the booth and press the record button. When I step back in, I begin to sing whatever comes to mind.