Nothing but Trouble

The Harmon's were broken. From the beginning I could see that, even before the details became clear. They were just as I remembered my family and a part of me loved them for it. Fucked up, completely trashed under the picture perfect mask they forced themselves to wear for the world to see. Lucky me, I could see right through their charade.

Ben Harmon was the cheater, the classic stereotype masquerading as the guilt-ridden husband desperately seeking redemption. My father was never unfaithful to my mother, as far as I knew, but he had skeletons in his closet. Gambling and drug abuse, those were more my father's areas of expertise. I remember a few nights my mother would just leave me and my younger brother, Teagan, behind just so that she could get away from him. Ah, parenting at it's best I dare say.

Vivian Harmon might have aroused some amount of pity from me had she not been such an idiot. She was a strong woman and if she hadn't been so desperate to glue back the pieces in her life and just dump her worthless excuse for a husband, she might have been well off. Alas, her attempts only made her look weak and pathetic.

No, the only one of the Harmon's I felt any amount of sympathy for was their daughter, Violet. Violet Harmon was so broken, I couldn't see how she found the strength to even get out of bed in the mornings. Her mother's miscarriage left little Violet just as scarred as her parents and yet they couldn't seem to see past their own problems and insecurities to notice their daughters steadily downward spiral. She was alone. Especially now that she'd been moved hundreds of miles from anything she'd ever known as a home.

I wanted to help Violet. She reminded me of myself, when I was alive and still a teenage girl silently screaming out for help to anyone that would listen. I didn't want Violet to end up like me and the only way I could make sure of that, was to get her the hell out of this house.

I remained silent, curling my legs onto the seat beneath me as I watched Vivian strip the wallpaper Chad had been so desperate to put up. Back when I had lived here my mother would never had allowed me to put my feet in the chairs. I missed her, I missed my broken family.

"That fucking bitch." I looked over at the sound of Chad's voice. He was glaring at Vivien with both arms crossed, probably thinking of a million and one ways to kill her. "If she had any idea how long that took me to cover up-"

"She probably wouldn't really care." I casually cut him off. I couldn't understand what it was about gays that made them so overly dramatic about everything. After clearing a good portion of the wall, Vivien took a step back and wiped some sweat from her brow. I liked it, it was different and though I'd never admit it to Chad, a hell of a lot better looking than that tacky, cheap wallpaper he'd covered it up with.

Chad gave a single huff before disappearing, probably back into the basement to spy on Patrick. I missed them. They were most amusement this house had seen in a long time and honestly, they really weren't so bad for a couple of gays, not really. Of course nowadays they would rarely even speak to me. Probably because my ex killed them both and quite violated Patrick in the basement. Tate always did have a way of bringing out the worst in people.

"You're gonna die in here." Vivien let out a shriek spinning around with her little wall scraper. I jumped out of my seat, moving between her and Addy. I wasn't ready for the Harmons to see me just yet, but I sure as hell wasn't about to let her harm sweet little Adelaide.

"Adelaide!" I lingered only for a moment as Constance sounded from the hall before returning to the basement. Constance was a snake and I couldn't stand being in her presence anymore that I could stand her son.

"You know," speak of the Devil, "if these people think they're going to keep Addy out of this house, they've got one hell of a fight on their hands." I turned my back to him and walked into the next room. "Riley." I cringed at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. "Please," I stopped, turning slowly to face him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to go away before you finally get it through your thick fucking head, Tate!" I didn't mean to yell, but I felt my anger rising with each moment that he stood in front of me. Tears swelled in Tate's big, brown eyes and I couldn't help but to remember the first time I'd ever seen him cry. I'd learned my lesson since then. He lowered his head, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I said I was sorry, Riley, I'm sorry." Clenching my teeth, I unwrapped Tate's arms and took a step back.

"You're a psychopath, Tate. You're not sorry." I crossed my arms and headed back for the stairs. I needed to be as far away from him as this house would allow.

"I just wanted us to be together!" I stopped, turning back to face Tate. There was a time when that was all I wanted, though our views were slightly opposing as I wanted to grow old with Tate, I wanted a family, a life.

"You killed me Tate." He closed his eyes, looking away from me but continuing to sob pathetically. "And you can cut the shit." As quickly as he'd began, he shut off the water works and stood up. "I will never forgive you for what you did to me."

"Maybe." I stood my ground as he walked over to me. "But we're going to be here awhile," I looked away as he ran his finger along my jawline and down my arm, "and we both know how lonely you can get, Ri." Clenching my jaw, I looked up to meet his gaze. He was smiling down at me as though he was certain me knew me better than I knew myself.

"Go away, Tate." He was still smiling as he vanished.