Sanctuary-

Violet could stay with Veruca any time she wanted to.

Violet knew it. Veruca knew it. Violet could even use Veruca's second favorite pillow if she really wanted to. She could even use Veruca's toothpaste, and her hairbrush, and her pony. As long as she didn't hog them. Violet could listen to whatever radio channel she wanted to, as long as it wasn't country, because Vercua detested country music. Violet could use one of Veruca's laptops, or one of her television sets.

But Violet never stayed the night with Veruca. And Veruca wondered why the first month of their friendship. She pondered it quietly, in annoyance, her ire growing every time Violet refused to come over. Veruca visited Violet all the time, in her shack of a house, in her shamble of a neighborhood.

"It's much better here than your house, I'm sure." She spat over the phone after yet another refusal. She flipped the cell closed angrily, growling at its reflective surface. When she visited Violet the next week, the girl was somber and sporting a black eye, covered amateurly with makeup. When pressed about her temperament Violet revealed that she had only placed second in the Karate Championships. Veruca asked haughtily if that was where Violet got her black eye, and the girl seemed to jump, moving her hand up to her cheek instinctively. And she knew that Violet had not gotten the black eye from competing, but from only placing second. She looked back at Violet's mother, who was making sandwiches in the kitchen. She lowered her voice.

"You know… you could… come over to get away…you could come over to…"

"Claim sanctuary?" Violet laughed hollowly, turning her head away.

It was four years before Violet called Veruca at two in the morning and asked to come over. Veruca ordered her private jet out at once, despite the blizzard, and she arrived at the airport where Violet was waiting in what was probably record time. When she stepped into the Terminal Violet was there, huddled in her fake fur coat. She looked up, and Veruca could see the red and purple darkening her friend's already bluish skin, along with the distinctive scratches of a slap delivered by a hand decorated with fake fingernails. Violet walked up to Veruca, and fell to her knees, sobbing, her purple hair spilled out over her shoulders. She was ready to claim sanctuary.