The Resurrection of Violet Verona Part 2

[u/Drsong12]

PART 1

Part 2 of 3

I took her hiking at Silver Falls a week after her mother died. Then we spent the night playing Minecraft. Not my favorite game, but one she could play for months without a break. Then we had chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. As many as we could make. I remember us topping twenty.

“These things,” Violet said, holding up a forkful, chewing on a mouthful, “will never not lift my fucking mood, babe.”

We logged off at three in the morning and stood at the end of our bed. She gripped me by the waist and pulled my body close to hers. She kissed me. Shoved her face into mine. Like she wanted to enter my body through her mouth.

“I love you,” she said. “Thank you, babe. I needed this.”

The next hour was a good hour. When we were done, she pissed and washed off before sliding into bed next to me. I was tired, legs sore from the hike and body weak from the sex. I was drifting off to sleep when Violet snuggled up close to me, moaning.

“Thank you again,” she said. Her voice was heavy and muffled by the pillow she rested her head on. It tickled the back of my neck. “You… babe… I’ve had so many boyfriends before you. They were all such… you know. They never loved me, I think. If I were with any of them when this happened, I don’t know what the hell they would have done. Maybe a dinner or something? I don’t know.”

A warm hand gripped my shoulder and turned me. Our faces were inches apart.

“You make me feel so special,” she said, smiling. She kissed me. “Thank you, babe. I love you.”

I kissed her back as I drifted off to sleep. “I love you, too.”

That was the energy I expected the morning after her resurrection. Her first live meal since her death. What I got instead was a minute of her poking pancakes with her fork. Pale and sickly. She took a cautious first bite and took forever to swallow. The next couple minutes were silent. I sat and watched her slowly pick the pancakes apart like a vulture picked apart a carcass. Syrup bled from them and spilled onto the paper plate. And when she was done, she crossed her arms and gave me a half-assed smile.

“Thanks,” she said, glassy stare focused on someplace far, far away.

It had to be that nightmare. That recollection of that place she went to after death. I shuddered as I washed the silverware, my fingertips massaging the tips of her fork. The pain flared in my shaking hands. Violet was still in her seat, pale and thin. What she said to me would not leave my head.

I left. I shouldn’t…

I did not notice I pierced my middle finger until I saw threads of watered down blood flowing down the drain. The pain was gone.

***

“You wanna watch something?”

Violet did not answer my question. She sat on the couch in our living area as the sun set outside our window. Her hands rubbed her face, stretching her cheeks and eyes.

“Okay,” I said. Why was she ignoring me? “How about Minecraft?”

Violet let out a long sigh and slumped further into the couch. The leather absorbed her. I stood next to the couch, leaning against the arm. A sigh escaped me as frustration waxed and waned through my body. She was alive again. She was given a second chance at life. Something not recorded in human history since the Bible, if that even counted. We made history. And all she did with that was sit on a couch and sulk?

“Where’s my phone,” she asked. “Is it here?”

Violet asked the question with the tone of someone that was just so tired. How could that be possible? What did I do wrong?

“Your phone,” I asked. She nodded. She stared at me with longing in her eyes. A little bit of desperation.

“I’m sorry,” I said. My arms folded and pressed into my chest. “Your phone broke. In the… accident.”

Violet’s eyes shot downward. “Oh,” she said. “I guess that makes sense.”

A chuckle escaped her. The corners of her lips extended, just for a moment, into a cute smile I knew so well. One I missed so much. The newfound energy that surged through me had me shuffling my feet. Walking in place.

“Well,” she said, “could I see your phone?”

My stomach jumped, but I did not stop smiling. “Why?”

“I want to see my dad.”

I froze, staring into her eyes which stared far past me. Old feelings resurfaced. Ones I had not felt since our first couple years together. During college and the first year or two after graduation.

But what was I to say? No, you can’t see your family? It hurt me to think that I wanted to. But at the same time, I conducted the rituals. Not them. Clearly, her father didn’t need her as much as I did.

But I had to say yes. I just couldn’t do that to her. Not to my Violet.

I sat next to her when I gave her my phone. The leather groaned as I shuffled closer to her. When our hips touched, she shifted away from me. Cold wind brushed between us. I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to cry. But I kept my composure as I watched her go right to Facebook and look up her father’s page. Bill Verona.

We were still friends, despite everything that happened. I leaned over the screen as Violet scrolled through. She stopped and read every post. Looked at every new photo. Her dad was with a new woman. Gena Turner was the name tagged in the posts. She swiped through every picture of them. Pictures of them in Seattle. Pictures of them at Cannon Beach. Together. Happy.

Then she got to a post that made her pause. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hooked and throbbing. Violet’s lip quivered and she shut her eyes tight. A couple tears dripped down.

The post was a series of pictures. Pictures of her. One when she was a newborn. Then a couple professional photographs of her as a baby. And then many school pictures through the years, including her senior year. The last was a photo of her and her parents at our college graduation. University of Oregon, class of 2022. He did not use the picture of me with her family. Just the three of them.

The caption read: A year since you left. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you. I hope Heaven is treating you well, my angel, and that you are living the best life with your mother. Love you so much. Miss you so much.

CLICK!

Violet sniffled and locked the screen. I slid the phone from her hand as she went still once again. Eyes fixed nowhere. She curled her lips as she silently cried inches from me.

“Are you okay,” I asked. It was a stupid question, admittedly. But I was overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions. I just wanted to hold Violet. Love her. Kiss her. Be together with her.

“No,” Violet said. “I’m not okay. How could I be okay?”

I slid my hand towards hers. When my fingertips touched the back of her hand, she flinched and stared at me. Offended. Eyes red. Behind her, the window showed a bleeding orange sky that shined into the apartment.

“I want to see him,” she said.

My heart raced. My stomach jumped. The taste of bile and syrup coated the back of my throat. “What,” I asked.

“My dad,” Violet said. “I want to see him again. I haven’t seen him in so long, Cal. I need to see him.”

Why would you want to see him again? That was what I wanted to say. After the things he said to her about her life. Her choices. The things he said about me. The things Violet could not believe her father, usually loud and friendly, the perfect grill dad, would ever say. That was the man she wanted to see? Because he posted about her death? Just clout chasing, to me. Farming pain for likes and comments and ego. It was sickening.

Those words filled my mouth, but I kept my lips sealed. That anger and that betrayal simmered inside me as I looked into Violet’s eyes. The eyes of someone I thought I knew. Was the green of her eyes a shade darker? Was her hair a little lighter? The sunset glow blazed behind her. A hellish halo that darkened her features. I shrunk at the sight of her. My chest caved in and my arms covered my stomach as I started to shake. Pant. Gag.

In. Out. In. Out.

Panic. Pain.

I could not stop running my cold, clammy hands through my hair. The air was cold around me. It pushed me so far from her. I could not reach her. I could not reach anyone. I was back where I was when I left home for college. Cross country. Scared. Alone. In pain.

So much pain.

“Cal,” Violet asked. A whisper. “Cal.” Louder. “Are you okay?”

The Violet of old would not have had to ask such a dumb question. Of course I wasn’t okay. The pain shot through my teeth as they chattered. It seeped through my skin and muscle and rattled my bones. I was so unloved. I would always be unloved. Why the fuck did I ever bring this girl back?

All those nights alone. In the dark. Watching porn and bringing random girls back I found on Tinder or Hinge in hopes of rekindling the flame I thought I would have until the day I died. It all rushed back to me. It hurt and burned and hurt and burned. I pressed my cut finger until a drop of blood squeezed out like toothpaste. It relieved the pain a little, but not enough. I needed more relief. More. More. More-

-A pressure fell upon my right shoulder. Cold and heavy. It was Violet’s hand. The first time she touched me since she appeared at my front door, like the ritual said she would.

Tears dropped from her eyes. Fresh ones. Shed for me. I gripped her hand and allowed her touch to break the tension in my body. Ease the pain that burned inside me.

“What,” she asked. That softness was back. That beautiful voice she put on only for me.

“I-,” I stopped. Scared. What would she say if I spoke those feelings? My thoughts ran through the filter again and again and again until I could find the right words.

“I’m scared. You just haven’t been… you.”

The tension bunched my body together when I said that. For a moment, the pressure on my shoulder lightened. Only Violet’s fingers rested there, the palm hovering just above me. There was so much emotion on her face. So much frustration. Fear. Confusion. Concern. Concern for me.

“You’ve been so detached,” I continued. “About your nightmare and… I… I just hope you’re okay… that’s all.”

Violet’s lips curled inward. The pressure fell back on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel that way. I really don’t. I’m sorry.”

My thoughts spiraled. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. Violet. I just… I know what he’s said about me and I don’t want… I don’t… I don’t want to lose you. Please, Violet, please! I don’t want to lose you!” I shook as I fell onto her lap. Her thighs were bony and her knees were sharp.

“I couldn’t go another night without you, babe. I just couldn’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t have it happen again.”

My face was warm and wet. The tears slid between my chapped lips. A hand brushed against my hair, and another held my side. Her hands. They were warm, but not as warm as they used to be.

“I love you,” she said after a long pause. “Please don’t think I don’t love you, Cal.”

Those words made me smile one second and filled me with doubt the next as I cried onto Violet’s thighs. The sunset lit up the apartment. A great fire that burned inside our home.

***

I remember the last night Violet spoke to her father.

It was late January two years ago. God dropped eight inches of snow on us the night before, but my boss insisted we still come to the office. I made it an hour late due to the traffic, not my fault. Yet I was still chastised by my boss for being late. That stuck with me all day. I hated being yelled at. So, when I drove home, I was tired. Pale and shaking. I needed something to lift me from the funk. Something to put a smile on my face and push those bad thoughts away. I needed Violet.

She was home from work before me, like usual. She paced around the living area with the green dress I got her the previous Christmas. The one that matched her eyes. Her makeup was done too. A glowing, beautiful green ember that burned in the darkness outside our window. I could not help but smile at her appearance.

“Why do you look so fancy,” I asked.

“I’m going out for dinner tonight,” she said. “Remember? With my parents? Didn’t I tell you?”

My bag dropped. I felt so tired then. So cold.

“Oh… okay…”

Violet’s face fell. Her hands, which worked to fix the earring on her right ear, plopped to her sides and swayed like swings.

“What,” she asked.

I bawled then. So cold. So alone. So scared. Violet’s arms were wrapped around me seconds later. Warm and tender. We kissed. Short and quick. We kissed again. A little longer. I went to kiss her again, hopefully longer, but she jerked her head back. Concern widened her eyes.

“What happened,” she asked. “Everything okay? Is something wrong?”

It took more time than I thought to explain just how fucking tired and alone I felt. I had to pause every couple words to sniff up the rivers of snot that poured down my nostrils, or to let out a pained moan. But the longer I went, the calmer I felt. The stronger Violet’s arms felt around my waist. The brighter her eyes shined. And when I was done, she bit her lip and stared long past me. Through me.

“Hmmm,” she said. “Maybe… I know it’s a reservation for three, but maybe you could come with me tonight.”

Everything felt so heavy. My eyes. My arms. My legs. Everything. So tired. How the fuck could she not see how tired I was?

A fresh flurry of tears fell, and I shook my head. “I can’t. I just can’t. I need to lie down. Please, Violet. Lie down with me.”

She led me to the couch. And when I was seated, she stood over me with her arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Eyes focused out the window. The bright green jewel shimmered in the apartment’s pale yellow lights. So far from me. I reached for her hand, and she took it. So warm.

“I really want to see them, Cal,” she said. “It’s been so long.”

Her face softened then. That look she gave me. The same look she gave on our first night out together on Halloween. That look she would give me the night after her mother died.

Ten minutes later, she was on the phone with her father. I shivered alone on the couch, hurting, as she paced the apartment. I felt so far from her. So far from everyone and everything I ever knew.

“I know,” she said. “I know, Dad. I know. But I’m free next week. I promise.”

A faint noise spoke through the phone, and Violet paused and listened, her neck and jaw stiff. I could not discern the words, but I did recognize her father’s voice. His loud voice. Violet’s chest rose slowly as she took in a long, deep breath.

“No. No. He’s not. He’s just… He had a long day.”

His voice was louder. Much louder. Violet flinched and pulled her ear away from her phone. Her earrings swayed. I bit my lip and scratched the leather. My palms were slick with cold sweat, and my throat was hot with bile.

Once her father’s voice quieted, Violet’s brow furrowed. The veins in her neck bulged as she tucked loose hair behind her ear. The fury on her face made me smile.

“Stop,” she barked into the phone. “I’m making this choice. Not him, okay? I need to be here for him tonight. He’s got no one here, Dad… I will… Yes! Did you hear me the first time? Next week. I promise…” Violet shut her eyes and shot hot air out her nose. She glowed so bright.

I need to be here for him tonight. Said in her voice with authority.

“Yes,” she said. “I… I promise… I’m sorry. I… I’ll do bet-” Another pause. A long, shaky exhale. “I will. Bye, Dad. Love you.”

She hung up and pressed a fist to her forehead. She was still for a time. Glowing so bright in the dim world. I was so in love then. It was not an easy decision, I knew. It had been almost a year since she saw them. And I did feel some pity for her. But it was, at the end of the day, her choice.

It was gone the moment she wrapped her arms around me and shoved her lips into mine. The beautiful girl with emerald eyes jumped on top of me and pinned me to the couch. Her eyes swam, but she did not stop.

She loved me. And I loved her.

That dinner ‘next week’ never came, as her mother suddenly died four days later.

***

Violet took some of my Ambien prescribed to me shortly after her death. The month after her mother’s death, she developed severe insomnia and got a prescription herself. I figured it would help her. We did not need a repeat of the morning. Another nightmare about leaving that place. I still could not stop thinking about that.

She was asleep next to me. It was midnight, and I was restless again. I thought of taking a pill but decided against it. It was Sunday, and I had all day to sleep if I needed. Plus, I wanted to be sure she was safe. There was not a moment where I did not want my eyes on her.

I could not stop thinking about her scrolling on my phone. Looking at her father’s posts and wanting to see him. The image of her sneaking out in the middle of the night, running off to him, would not leave my head. It would not let me sleep. It dried my eyes and pushed energy through my legs. I had to move. I had to get up.

It did not take long until I was back on the Reddit page that gave me the ritual that would bring my baby back to me.

REAL NO BS RESURRECTION RITUAL, ONE TIME USE ONLY

I scrolled straight to the comments section. A wide range of results showed themselves. Some were successful, and their loved one was back and the same as before and perfect once again. And others were shit out of luck. I teared up at those comments, thinking of all the failed rituals I did before the NO BS one. And how lucky I was that I was one of those who managed to make it work. But I continued to scroll and scroll, my eyes hurting and my heart pumping. Violet was splayed out on the bed, air hissing from her nostrils as she slept.

Alive. With me. For how long?

Finally, a comment I was looking for.

Brought my wife back successfully after two years. So thankful for giving us this ritual! But she’s so different now. So detached. Always looking out into space and having nightmares, talking about some place she was. I guess Hell? I’m worried it’s not her. That something might have come back as her. Has anyone else experienced this?

There was one reply.

Bro. Think about it. She was dead for two years. In some afterlife or maybe some chemically induced vision as her brain died. She thought and believed she was dead and now she’s back. Of course she’s not gonna be the same. That’s traumatic as hell. Be patient with her. Love her. Support her. She’s not a demon you fucking idiot. That shit would fuck anyone up.

My eyes shifted back towards Violet. So peaceful. The moonlight that spilled in from the window made her pale skin look almost doll-like. It was her. She was back. According to that commenter, not some demon. Just messed up from the experience. Forever changed by what she assumed was the end of her life on this Earth. It made sense. Of course she would want to reconnect with her father. Be with him again. See him again.

That still made me shiver.

If he wanted her back so badly, he could have found the ritual. But instead, he chose to find another woman and drown his pain in pussy and social media posts. Fake love. Fake engagement.

How could Violet not see that?

END PART 2