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Back Violet Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. VIOLET
  3. VIOLET
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. Epilogue
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  50. Copyright

Sometimes, people are just bad apples.

You’re not the bad one, doll.

But I think you need to come home.

Lxxx

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: dffdijingfig

Ohhhhhhh shit. At a eird party, dunno whatshapening. This bloke wantstofuckme. Violet is being a mental. I don feel good.

Wishouy were here… xxxxxxx

25

The walk back to the hotel passes in a blur. A blur of tears, humiliation and anger. I thought I was getting to know Carrie, but I don’t know her at all. Not only did she push me away, but she laughed at me, and made the others laugh at me, too. The song is still swirling around in my head. My song, spoiled now, by her. Carrie screaming it across the room. Laughing. Smoking. I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart. The last thing I saw was her face, pink and sweaty, hair plastered to her forehead, mouthing the song lyrics at me. Sergei laughing, arm around her neck. Saying something in Russian, and the other men laughing.

Then she disappeared. Sucked back into the crowd.

The other men tried to get me to stay, but they were rough-looking, wearing tracksuits, drinking too many beers. Chattering and nudging each other. Staring at me with hunger in their eyes. I know what they wanted. They smelled wrong. It felt wrong. They called my name, tried to get me to stay – and for a moment I worried that they would try to stop me from leaving, but they gave up pretty quickly. There were plenty of other girls there to entertain them. Girls in short, tight dresses. Too much hairspray, and no time for the likes of me. Carrie seemed to fit in with them better – she is like a chameleon; she can adapt to any environment, get on with whoever she’s with: the old folks on the train, the Mongolian farmers, and now these people. These people that I don’t trust at all.

I don’t even care where she is now.

The streets are quiet, eerie. This is not a town filled with revellers. I wish I could grab my stuff now, and jump on a train out of here, but I know there are no trains tonight. I think back to our arrival, my time in the market where I had fun, felt alive. I’d been so excited about the party.

I pass a café that still has its lights on, but there is no one inside. I’d like to sit somewhere on my own, have a drink. Maybe try and speak to the person working in there. Someone who hasn’t humiliated me. The people in the market were friendly, but the ones at the party weren’t. They might’ve been, if they hadn’t been taken in by Carrie.

Like I’ve been.