InsaneJournal

Violet Ingram was not destined for a happy life, thought it wasn't horrible to begin with. It wasn't a perfect existence by any means, but it was tolerable. Her father was...well, he was horrible. End of story. But she had her older brother, and that somehow made everything okay. He took care of her and she basically clung to him. Her father would yell at Anthony, but it never really escalated to anything physical, and he pretty much left her alone.

Of course, that balance didn't last forever. When she was only fourteen, it all became too much for her brother. He left. To say she was completely shattered by losing him would be a vast understatement. And it only got worse from there. All of the things her father was afraid of doing while Anthony was there...nothing was holding him back now. She was physically and sexually abused by him and her mother knew nothing of it.

It was during those times, however, that she realized how easy it was for her to channel her fear and anguish and frustration into something worthwhile. Namely, music. She picked up a guitar for the first time in tenth grade and it really was love at first strum. She was a fast learner and it honestly became the only thing that kept her sane through everything.

Other than music, she wasn’t very involved in high school. Instead, she got a job and banked every last penny she earned, planning to follow in her brother’s footsteps and get the hell away from there as soon as she could. Unlike her brother, however, she didn’t even wait until she graduated. On her eighteenth birthday, she withdrew all of her money from her bank account and took the guitar her father had bought her as an apology for one of his more horrible episodes, pawning it for bus fare to New Orleans.

She spent months on the street, living off of charity soup kitchens and doing odd jobs for a place to sleep for the night, until she finally found an apartment of her own. It was small and in a, quite possibly, condemnable building, but it was enough for her purposes. She’s been there ever since, working two jobs at a time and saving as much money as she could to buy a guitar of her own. She spent any free time she had at the music store down the street, practicing on the guitars there.

And then even that little bit of what you can barely call normalcy was shattered. She was reunited with her brother. You'd think this was a blessing and...well, it was. Partially. But it brought back memories of everything that happened, and with it came suicidal and masochistic tendencies. She needed to talk to someone. Otherwise she couldn't live with it. But in her eyes, she could neither open up nor die. She had to pretend she was okay for the sake of her brother.

As fate would have it, her father came home drunk one night and told her mother everything that happened. That night, Terrence Ingram died at the hands of his wife in what was reported as self-defense. Everything came out. Her brother knew. Her mother knew. Her only friends knew. While they were in pain for her, not because of her, she still blames herself for it all.

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[Private.]

Something that seems like it should be a blessing can turn out to be a curse.

My brother's in my life again. I should be happy. I am happy. But...fdjlsajlg;asdg

I had become so good at repressing everything. At just going through the motions and making myself numb. It was easy because I had nothing from home to remind me of him. But now my nightmares are back. I can't stop dwelling on it. Every touch. Every "thank you, sir". I'm terrified he'll find me again. I can't...no.

He has no idea what he's done to me. I can't get close to anyone without wanting to vomit. Not even Anthony. I can't even trust Anthony. He's my brother and I'm as scared of him as I am of everyone else. And Terrence? Oh. He gets off scot free. I can't tell anyone. Anyone. Anthony'd kill him. And just...no. I couldn't lose my brother again. No. Just...no. Never.

He couldn't find me again. For all he knows I'm dead. fdsahkgldhsal I wish I was dead. I wish I could end it right now. I want to die. It can't be worse than living like this.

But Violet Ingram doesn't give up. And...I couldn't hurt Anthony like that. I couldn't.

Or maybe I'm just a coward. Too scared to kill myself. Not like that's a fucking stretch.

I'll just have to live on, knowing I'll never be good for anything. Anything except being my father's whore.

[/Private.]

Can't sleep. Clowns will eat me.

--

[Private.]

I did it again. I fucking did it again. I'd gone six fucking months without it and fdsjakhgklsdahksa.

I don't even really know what happened. It was like my self-control completely left and I was reaching for a pair of scissors. And I feel better. It's disgusting, but I feel better. Maybe because the cut hurts worse than the other pain. Maybe because I just needed some sort of release but...I shouldn't. I should hate myself. I do hate myself.

I want to do it again. I want to see the blood gush out of me, feel that pain.

dsagjksdlh no. I have to stop. I can't ever do it again. Because it would be so easy to start cutting and just not stop until I'm...no. I can't do that to Anthony or Mack...I just can't.

[/Private.]

...I think I need a roommate.

--

[Private.]

Oh my God. No. djkaghklashgklsahdgks

This can't fucking be happening. No one was ever supposed to find out. No one was supposed to know. I was going to suffer in silence. Alone. And that fucking idiot had to get drunk and run his mouth. Tell mom what he did...fdjkalsghlkjasdhalkjs

She has to live with this forever. Even if she gets off on self-defense, she has to live with what she did. Terrence is dead. My mother killed him. And it's all because of me.

She knows what he did to me. Anthony and Mack know. It was bad enough living with it myself, now the people I love most are suffering too. It's all my fault.

I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to be anymore.

...I should have done it. I should have ended it while I still had the chance.

[/Private.]

Don't. Just...don't.

--

My God, my tourniquet, return to me salvation.