Jessica Sorensen - The Probability of Violet and Luke

Luke

Who knew a fucking phone call could be so complicated. It should have been a piece of cake for me. All these years spent hating my motherthis is what Ive been waiting for. Finally, Id get some form of revenge for all the years of torment, drug injections, the fucking mind games she loved to play with me, and all the other shittiness that made up my childhood. To this day, I still havent even begun to fully accept or admit all the stuff she did to me. This should be the moment when I let it all go. Move on. Start over. Except I feel guilty, like Im a child doing something wrong.

I feel sick to my stomach.

All twisted inside.

And I know its because of her. Everything she engrained into my head is surfacing, all the stuff she said to me when I was a child that kept my lips shut. The shame. The embarrassment, not just because shes my mother, but for myselfbecause of what she turned me into.

You always need to listen to me Lukey, my mother used to say. I know whats best for you, more than anyone else does. You always need to do what I say, otherwise you wont survive this life. And you cant tell anyone what we do in our house. Its no one elses business. Shed pause and pet my head like I was her dog. Besides, if they found out the things youve done, youd be in a lot of trouble too.

I was about eight years old the first time she said this to me and even then it didnt feel right. The things she made me do the way she would hold me for hours, murmuring high, incoherent song lines and fucked up ballads, smoothing her hand over my head, kissing my cheek, begging me to shoot her up again. Wrong. It all felt wrong and disgusting. But the more she said it was my fault, the more it seemed like maybe it was true. How could it not be? She was my mother after all and mothers arent supposed to lie to their children.

So I listened to her. Day in and day out, I kept my lips sealed. Sometimes I would try to run away from the house, because I couldnt take it anymore. But shed always find me and I started wondering if it was her I needed to survive against. Eventually, I found a way to cope. Drinking and sex, they helped me forget and let me get the control I craved over my life.

I sigh with the phone clutched in my hand, thinking, thinking, thinking. Yeah, I know that my mothers insane, that she ruined my childhood, fucked up my head. So turning her into the police should be easier than this and Im angry with myself that its not.

But still, in the end, I picture Violet, beautiful green eyes, full lips, long waves of red and black hair, a sexy tattooed body, a diamond stud in her nose, and the sadness and pain in her expression the last time I held her in my arms. Thats what helps me dial the police station.

Hello, Albany County Police Department, the secretary answers. When I hesitate she adds, Is anyone there?

I clear my throat again and again, my throat constricting, but I force myself to be strong and fight through my nerves, each one connected to something that happened to me when I was younger. Yeah, Id like to report some information about the Hayes murder. As soon as the words leave my lips, I feel twenty times better, the guilt becoming lighter. I just wish doing this could erase the past, but nothing will do that. Nothing will ever get me Violet back. Whats done is done and I cant ever change it.

Violet

Life. I hate it. More than ever. And destiny, it can go to hell. I fucking hate destiny.

As his calloused hands are on me, feeling my skin, making me internally cringe, I wish Id never met the bastard known as destiny. Then maybe Id never gotten a taste of the other side of life, the good side. Then maybe this wouldnt be so hard.

As much as Im panicking on the inside, on the outside I am the calm, collected Violet. The one that can fake smile at the drop of a hat. The one that can charm anyone. Even when the pain comes, when my legs bump into side of the bed as Im forced down onto my knees, I dont so much as flinch. Im dead on the outside, stone cold, while on the inside my heart is racing so fast, I feel light headed and woozy. Everythings moving so quickly, so blurry, I cant sort through my emotions. Which is a good thing. It makes it impossible to tell what Im feeling and makes this moment bearable, less painful, less shameful.

Still, as hands continue to wander over me, whispers of owing for messing up, this is the cost, Im all you got fills my ears and kills my soul, bit by bit, piece by piece. As my head is forced downward, I find myself wishing there was a pause button where I could freeze time, step out of this place and erase whats about to happen to me.

Yes, there are a shitload of moments in my life that I wish I could do over. That time I didnt study for my Calculus test, because Preston needed me to deal for him for the first time. The time I went downstairs in the middle of the night and my parents were murdered, while I survived. The night I ran from Luke. This one.

Each has had consequences, some more severe than others. And unfortunately I painfully understand that do-overs dont exist, at least ones where you can erase the past and start over. And for the most part, excluding my parents death, Ive never put too much thought into do-overs, placing most of the blame for the shit fest known as my life onto destiny.

But its been two months since I left Luke and the apartment that felt more like a home to me than any other place I ever lived. And even though it still makes me sick thinking about how our pasts are tangled together, long before we even met, part of me wishes Id done things differently. Two months of pure hell with moments packed with whispered threats and calloused hands where Ive lost track of Violet Hayes, the version Luke Price brought out. She died the second she chose to come back to Prestons house, because she was hurting and couldnt think of anywhere else to go. And Im not sure if shell ever live again.

This time I cant blame whats happening to me on destiny. Only my pride, my wounded heart, and the choice I made that led me to countless bad choices, all of which can never be erased.

None of this can.

Violet

Im on the brink of losing consciousness, fading in and out as two months of bad decisions weigh me down and push me further into the water. My entire body is drenched, my lungs about to combust, yet I dont come up for air. I freely accept the lack of life inside me and allow myself to stay there, going further and further, until I feel light and weightless. A second or two longer. Thats all I need. I can do it. Feel the comfort for just one more moment before I have to return to the painful reality of my life and what I am.

Just one more second.

Hold your breath.

Keep it in.

Trap the pain.

Drown it out.

Dont think.

Breathe.

Dont live.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I took it one step too far. Stayed under the water one breath too long. Inched a step too close to the edge. Drove just a little too fast down the road. Death. Would it hurt? Or would it be weightless? Liberating? Would it be better than life? Would I finally, at the very end, be able to breathe freely again? The only way Ill ever know is to go through with itfall off that edge. Go too fast. Sink to the bottom and never come up for air. Im so close to finding out, yet Im not ready to fully seal my fate just yet.

So gripping onto the edge of the bathtub, I drag myself up out of the water, gasping for air, my lungs gratefully aching. I sit up, half in, half out of the water, inhaling, exhaling, blood pumping through my veins and mixing with the adrenaline. My emotions are still numb and I focus on getting that next breath of air. But the longer I breathe, the easier it becomes, and the more my mind starts to awaken again. Feelings and thoughts of my parents death arise, stabbing at my heart. Their murders. And the thing that nearly kills me every time I think about it. Every minute. Every second. Every damn dayit consumes me.