Dreams & Darkened Attics
The house grew quiet again - a silence that felt heavier than it had in months. Powder noticed it first, as she always did. The faint noise of Vi’s music, once ever-present behind the attic door, was gone. The only sounds now were the soft creaks of the old house and the low murmur of voices carrying late into the night.
Vi had recoiled into herself as though retreating into her own skin. After the third day of Vi’s absence from the family, Powder knew something was seriously wrong. Vi hadn’t come downstairs for meals, her footsteps no longer padded down the stairs, and she was never in the living room when Powder peeked in. Instead, the attic door stayed shut, and the light around the edge of the door - dark, the music silent.
At night, Powder curled into Vander’s chest, sobbing. “She’s doing it again,” she whispered through hiccups, her small fists clutching at his shirt. “She’s shutting us out, just like before.”
Vander held her tightly, murmuring soothing words she was too upset to hear. Eventually, when the sobs slowed and her breathing softened, Claggor and Mylo would gently carry Powder back to her room, as though removing her from a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
On the fourth day, Vander reached his breaking point. He couldn’t just sit there as his daughter slipped deeper into whatever had hollowed her out. He picked up his phone late that morning, dialling an old friend’s number. Grayson answered after only a few rings, her voice warm but wary.
“Vander? It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, Gray,” Vander said, his voice gruff. “Listen, I wouldn’t call unless I needed to, but… it’s about Vi.”
Grayson’s tone immediately softened. “What’s going on?”
“She’s shutting down again. Won’t leave the attic, won’t eat, and avoids everyone. It’s like—” He paused, running a hand over his face. “It’s like she’s back where she was a year ago. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t sit by, I need to know what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
Grayson sighed, already piecing together where this was going. “mmh… and so you want to know if Olivia has mentioned anything about Vi?”
Vander hesitated. “Yeah. Something’s changed - Vi seemed… better, before. Happier. It’s like something flipped overnight. Olivia’s the only one she talks to, so I thought maybe—”
“Vander,” Grayson said gently, “you know Olivia can’t break client confidentiality. Even for this. But I’ll tell you what I do know: Vi’s last session was just a week ago, and Olivia said she was doing well. She was talking about her life, about some new friend she’d made, and…” She hesitated. “Vi seemed happy. That’s all I can say.”
Vander frowned, the information not making sense. “Happy?” he repeated. “Then what the hell happened?”
Grayson didn’t have an answer for him, and the conversation ended with Vander feeling more lost than before.
That afternoon, Vander decided to try talking to Vi himself. He climbed the narrow staircase to the attic, each creak of the wood under his feet filling the silence. As he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, bracing himself, before knocking softly.
“Vi?” he called out, his deep voice gentle. “You in there?”
No response. He could hear rustling noises from the other side and the creak of a window. Just as he opened the door and saw a desolate room, his eyes scanned the window. It was open, the curtains fluttering faintly in the breeze.
She was gone.
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Vi sat on the school bleachers during her last class, PE, her knees pulled up to her chest, her headphones in but silent. She didn’t want to listen to music anymore. Instead, she just sat there, staring at the athletic field as students flailed around in the distance, their voices blending into white noise.
Her chest ached in a way she hadn’t felt since the day she lost her ex. That dull, hollow feeling of being unwanted had rooted itself deep inside her again. Caitlyn was gone, without a word, without explanation - like Vi didn’t matter enough for a goodbye. She doesn’t want me, Vi thought bitterly, just like no one ever does.
The worst part wasn’t that she missed Caitlyn - though she did, tremendously. It was the silence that hurt the most. The way Caitlyn’s absence made Vi feel like a fool for thinking she mattered. Vi had let herself hope again - hope that someone might see her and stay. Hope that someone might care.
But now? Vi knew better.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. She didn’t look at messages anymore, didn’t care who they were from. Instead, she just sat there, her mind spinning in circles.
By the time the final bell rang, Vi slipped out of the school unnoticed, her hoodie pulled up as she trudged home. She didn’t go through the front door, didn’t want to face anyone. Instead, she scaled the side of the house, pulling herself through the attic window.
It was easier this way - easier to hide, easier to disappear.
Vi sat down on the edge of her bed, staring at the empty space across the room where Caitlyn had once sat, laughing about something Vi couldn’t even remember now. The memory felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of it all press down on her. Her room felt too big, too quiet, too empty.
I should’ve known, she thought bitterly, her eyes burning. No one stays.
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The attic was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlamp filtering through the open window. Vi sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. It had been a week since Caitlyn disappeared from her life - seven days of silence, of empty lunches and meaningless days that blurred together. For most of that time, she’d been numb, feeling like a hollow version of herself. But tonight, hit differently. Tonight, the emptiness cracked open, and everything came rushing in.
Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where a familiar record sleeve lay discarded. It was bent at the edges, scratched up from too many plays - Caitlyn had handled it like it was fragile the first time she’d seen it.
“What’s this one?”
“That one got me through a lot of bad nights.”
The memory hit her like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, Vi pushed herself up and crossed the room. She slid the vinyl from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable with trembling hands. The needle dropped, and a moment later, Freddie’s haunting voice filled the room.
"Who wants to live forever...
Who wants to live forever...?"
The words echoed through the attic, bouncing off the walls and sinking deep into Vi’s chest. The dam broke. She curled up on the floor, her body shaking as the sobs came hard and fast.
This was the worst she’d felt in years. The numbness that had protected her all week shattered, and in its place was a surge of grief, loneliness, anger, and longing. She cried for Caitlyn, for herself, for every person who had ever walked away and left her feeling like she wasn’t enough. Tears soaked into the sleeves of her hoodie as she gasped for breath between sobs.
The vinyl crackled as it ended, and Vi stayed there on the floor, unable to move. But the silence was unbearable, so she got up, grabbed another record - any record - and placed it on the player.
The night became a blur of music. Sad song after sad song spilled through the room like a flood, their melodies wrapping around Vi’s raw emotions and squeezing tighter. It was a parade of pain and nostalgia: Prince, Bonnie Tyler, The Cure, and Bowie. Each note tugged at another part of her heart, and Vi let it happen. She let herself feel every ounce of hurt that had been building all week.
The hours stretched into the early morning, and Vi wasn’t even sure what time it was when she heard the familiar opening chords of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac begin to play.
The song cut through everything.
"Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom...
Well, who am I to keep you down?"
Vi’s breath hitched as she sat up, her face still damp with tears. The sound of the song was soft, yet it hit something deep inside her - a memory of Caitlyn’s first time here, sitting on her attic floor with the record in her hands, smiling.
“This is proper music,”
Vi wiped her face with the edge of her sleeve, her chest aching so much it felt like it might cave in. Without thinking, she reached for her phone, her hands trembling as she turned it on. The screen lit up with a brightness that made her wince.
The last messages she’d sent to Caitlyn stared back at her, unanswered. Vi hesitated, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if Caitlyn would even see it - but the words were there, rising up through the haze of her emotions, desperate to be said.
Slowly, Vi began typing.
Vi: I miss you, Cait.
She stared at the message for a long moment, her heart hammering in her chest. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough. But it was the truth.
She hit send.
The phone slipped from her fingers, landing softly on the blanket beside her. Vi lay back down on the floor, curled up as Dreams continued to play, the soft notes soothing her raw edges.
"Thunder only happens when it’s raining...
Players only love you when they’re playing..."
For the first time in days, Vi’s breathing began to slow, the heaviness in her chest easing just a little. The music wrapped around her like a blanket, filling the silence, filling the ache.
And finally, as the needle scratched softly at the end of the song, Vi closed her eyes and let sleep take her, her phone still glowing faintly in the dark.
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Caitlyn hadn’t planned this - hadn’t planned anything, really - but something inside her snapped that morning. She couldn’t sit in the estate one second longer, suffocating under the weight of her own silence. Vi’s last message had shaken her awake, cracked through the layers of guilt and self-pity she’d been drowning in.
“I miss you, Cait.”
The words had been simple, but they hit her like a hammer to the chest. She couldn’t let Vi think she’d walked away willingly. She couldn’t let Vi feel abandoned - not when Caitlyn knew she knew what that felt like already.
It was just past midday when Caitlyn slipped out of the estate, sneaking through the back gate like a fox. She didn’t bother calling for a driver or taking the car; she needed to do this herself. The hour-long walk felt endless but necessary, her quick pace driven by equal parts panic and determination.
By the time she reached Vi’s house, her legs ached, and her heart hammered in her chest - not from the walk, but from the uncertainty of what she would say or what she would even find. The house was quiet, its familiar silhouette looming above her. Caitlyn’s gaze flicked up to the attic window; she’d missed the sight. she released a shaky breath when she noticed it was open, just a crack.
“Thank God,” she whispered, half to herself.
The trellis looked as unsteady as ever, but Caitlyn didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the wooden slats and began to climb, her movements practised but hurried. It wasn’t graceful by any means, but by the time she pulled herself through the window, she didn’t care.
Her breath caught as she landed softly inside the attic. The room smelled familiarly of dust and old vinyl, but something was different - heavier. The sight before her made her heart drop.
Vi was curled up on the floor beside her record player, her knees tucked to her chest, her face hidden against her arm. She looked small like she was trying to fold into herself and disappear. Caitlyn’s eyes darted to the record player; Rumours by Fleetwood Mac was waiting to be played, the sleeve discarded beside it.
Caitlyn swallowed hard, her chest tightening painfully. This wasn’t the Vi she knew - the confident, snarky girl who climbed walls and called her “princess” like it was second nature. This was a version of Vi she hadn’t seen before, only heard of vaguely - broken, vulnerable, shuddering faintly in her sleep.
She hesitated, her fingers brushing over the record. With a quiet breath, Caitlyn placed the needle on the vinyl, and the room was slowly filled with the familiar opening chords of Dreams. The melody drifted softly through the attic, a balm against the stillness.
Caitlyn knelt down beside Vi, her hands unsteady. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here or if this technically counted as trespassing. But as she sat there, watching Vi’s shoulders tremble in her sleep, she realised none of that mattered. What mattered was that Vi knew - she needed to know - that Caitlyn hadn’t walked away.
Without thinking, Caitlyn gently reached out, sliding her arms under Vi. She was careful, mindful not to wake her as she lifted Vi’s slight weight off the floor. Vi shifted slightly, a small noise escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake. Caitlyn carried her to the bed, setting her down softly before sitting beside her, her breathing unsteady.
Vi looked so peaceful and fragile all at once, her pink hair falling messily across her face. Caitlyn’s throat tightened as she reached out, brushing a strand of hair back with a trembling hand. She let her fingers linger, idly stroking Vi’s hair as the music played on.
"Say women, they will come, and they will go...
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know..."
Caitlyn exhaled slowly, her gaze set on Vi’s sleeping form. She looked like she needed the rest. Like she hadn’t slept properly in days. Caitlyn could see the faint tear stains on her cheeks, the exhaustion written into the lines of her face.
“I’m so sorry,” Caitlyn whispered softly, her voice almost inaudible. She didn’t know if Vi could hear her, but it didn’t matter. The words needed to be said. “I didn’t walk away. I swear I didn’t.”
The tears prickled at Caitlyn’s eyes, but she blinked them away, her hand still moving idly through Vi’s hair. The music swelled around them, and for the first time in a week, Caitlyn let herself breathe.
She didn’t know how long she sat there - maybe minutes, maybe hours - but she didn’t move. For now, it was enough just to be here. To make sure Vi knew she wasn’t alone.