AN/ ZOMFG! THE END IS NEAR! (And on Friday the 13th too, in true Snicket style.) I just wanted to write another Violaf fic before (most likely) it goes AU. Hope the fic's decent. Well, here goes:

Don't you ever get tired of this? Aren't you bored of me yet?

From your point of view, I'd have thought it'd been victory enough that you succeeded in stealing our fortune and that you slaughtered Klaus and Sunny? I mean, why didn't you do me in as well? You promised you would a long time ago. Before you fled from that theater playing The Marvelous Marriage, you told me yourself you would kill me. But I guess you changed your mind. It wasn't sadistic enough, I guess.

Nope, I just had to be stooped into the greatest degradation instead. I'm just your pathetic little sex slave now.

I see the look you give me now, undressing me with your eyes, commanding me to do so. I loosen up the buttons on my dress and let it fall to the floor. Then I walk over to you and let you handle with the rest. You like to be nice and slow when slipping off my bra and knickers. At least you never just rip them and force me down anymore, thank heavens. Of course, you had stopped doing that ever since I had stopped resisting you.

You rub yourself against me, and I shudder in disgust as usual. I'll never get used to your filth. Never. Your touch is just icky and taints my skin. No matter how gentle you try to be nowadays, you'll never be able to provide me with pleasure.

I used to think I was strong, that nothing would knock me down. I was a person of pride and independence, even despite all the terrible things happening around me and my siblings. But I changed, and became a dependant feeble little whore. Strong words, but I only say the truth.

You whisper naughty things in my ear, but I never whisper anything back. I give you my responses in the way I handle you.

Everyone probably by now assumes I'm dead. Imagine their surprise if they knew what I was doing with my life now. I suppose I could go back. You never bother to lock me in my room anymore. I could just stroll out the front door and then run to the ends of the earth if I wanted to. Or I could avenge you for what you had done to my family by going into your closet, getting out your gun, and blowing your brains out.

Seriously, I ponder this to myself everyday why I just don't do it. Especially now, when we're on the bed. It's not the sex I'm addicted to, I know. You're too rough, and disgusting, and never what I had imagined when I heard about the 'special moment,' I've heard people whisper to each other when they think they're out of ear shot.

Well...I do know it's only here I can be powerful. You succumb to screaming and moaning even if I just brush over you. But do you see me so easily pleased? Nope.

Hmm, maybe that's it. Perhaps I just use you as an ego boost. Well, it could also be I'm just simply insane. Or maybe there's another motive I haven't thought of yet. I may never know.

It's amazing how much one can not even know their own self.

And if I can't even solve the mysteries of my own mind, pish, finding out what goes on in your head is one-hundred percent impossible.

But, of course, I still ask myself those questions about you I'm dying to ask. (But never get around to.)

Like, why the hell have you been lax and let me just roam the house wherever I want? I'm not complaining, I just want to know what's up with the sudden trust.

And what's up with your eyes? As far back as the first time I laid eyes on you, they'd always shine with that evil glint. It was your trademark emphasizing your predatory greediness. But the more I see them now, the more I see what seems like sorrow then anything.

Most importantly, why are you the one always in my thoughts? I think about you more then I do Klaus and Sunny, which is pretty sad. I mean, my blood doesn't even boil when I imagine your face anymore. Well, I don't exactly think happy thoughts about you either. It's like I've numbed myself from you, if that makes sense. Odd.

I suppose part of the reason we do what we do is because...well, we are all we have left. We'd both rather escape into each other then be in the smoky world out.

Or something like that.

Like many authors before me, I beg for a review. (Pretty please with cherry on top?)