Arriving on campus felt eerily quiet, like a ghost town frozen in time. Mondays were usually a lull after the chaos of weekend parties, and today was no exception. Violet rarely ventured out for the weekend festivities; my schedule had little room for socializing, making it just the third time Violet found herself ambling through the campus parties.
As she settled into her usual seat, Violet tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. My mind drifted through a haze until a gentle tap on my shoulder jolted me back to reality.
It was Sophia, best friend to Violet, her eyes wide with excitement. "Violet, you won't believe this!"
"What is it now, Soph?" She replied, half-awake but intrigued.
"I heard there's a new transfer student coming in from Russia!"
"Oh? What's a Russian doing here in the States?" She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It wasn't that she didn't care; she just thought the novelty of it all was somewhat overplayed.
Sophia leaned in, tapping her cheek in that thoughtful way she did when she was about to share something juicy. "I heard he's coming here because of Ed's recommendation."
"How interesting." responded Violet,her tone more sardonic than sincere. The college was a melting pot of cultures; a transfer student was hardly newsworthy. "I found it curious how people could fixate on such trivial matters."Once class finally let out, with a few hours to kill before the next lecture. Rather than head back home, she decided to take a stroll through the nearby park.
The crisp autumn air wrapped around like a cool embrace, the leaves fluttering down like whispers of fall. It was refreshing to step away from the sterile confines of the classroom and so called home and immerse herself in the vibrancy of nature, even if just for a little while.
As Violet entered the cozy café, she felt the warmth of the chatter surrounding her. "Hello, can I get my regular, please?" she asked.
"Will be ready," the barista replied.
"Thank you."
"Ding!" The café bell rang as a tall man walked in. His impressive stature caught her eye, and she stole a quick glance at him. He had black hair and captivating bronze-colored eyes.
"One mocha iced coffee, please," he ordered.
"Will be right there," the barista responded.
Violet couldn't help herself; she listened intently to what he was ordering as she waited for her drink.
"Here you go, Miss."
"A few hours later, at home, a glass shattered. Violet jolted; she didn't want to be there, but she had no choice. She didn't even want to call this place home, but it was what it was. Her palms began to sweat as she tried to avoid whatever was happening in her father's office. Quickly, she went upstairs to her room, the only place where she felt safe in the house.
"VIOLET!" her mother's voice echoed through the hallway. Violet jumped, startled.
"Yes, Mother?" she asked as she hurried downstairs into the dining room.
"Tell me why your cello teacher says you've been slacking ever since the incident," her mother demanded.
"I..." Violet trembled. Her mother was a fierce, intimidating woman with no mercy for anyone. As the CEO of the family business, she was also the head of the family.
"I AM TALKING TO YOU! YOU CANNOT BE A SLACKER IN THIS HOUSE!"
"slap". Violet stood there, unable to cry or laugh; there were no emotions within her except for hatred. She knew that if she spoke up, things could get worse. As always, she stayed silent and went back up to her room. She presses her back against the door and slowly slides down, her hands trembling as they cover her eyes. "This is a living hell," she whispers, her voice thick with despair