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Nobody expects to die. Veronica is sure of it. But when she dies, when she feels that yank on her hair, sees the barrel of his gun meet her temple, she knew what was happening. A part of her is sure she’s known for much longer, perhaps even years, that she’d die this way.
She doesn’t have much time to think about it. There’s only a few seconds of pause before he pulls the trigger once, then twice, then three times in quick succession, and she falls limp on the ground beneath her. And that’s it. At age nineteen, she’s dead. End of story. Her body is burned, the gun tossed deep into the ocean, and that’s the end of it.
Looking back on her life, Veronica can pinpoint the exact moment she started to die. It was in high school, senior year, when she locked eyes with Jason Dean for the first time. It was at lunch. Veronica was eating with the Heathers. She looked around on a whim, gaze landing dead on the handsome devil’s face. And just like that her fate was sealed. Veronica Sawyer had been given the death penalty, and all she could do now was wait for her turn to the electric chair.
The relationship moved quickly, filled to the brim with passion and romance. But the fire went out just as quickly, and before the knew it, Veronica was out of love. There were sides of him she tried to ignore; fits of anger, violent spells, tendencies to yell and hoot and holler over every little mistake. And sometimes she could turn a blind eye, forget about the bloody lip or the black eye. More often than not, she couldn’t. There was nothing she could do about it though, so when friends asked about it, she made up some silly reason and went about her day.
Heather Mac asked the most questions. They were close, much closer than they were with anyone else, and Heather cared about her much more than she cared about anyone else. Whenever Veronica would turn up with a new bruise, she worried. But Veronica could convince her every time, manipulate her mind into believing her, and fuck, did it sting. It had to be done. It was a necessary evil, something she couldn’t avoid.
That’s what she told herself, anyways.
With every conviction, every sentencing and every criminal, there is one chance for redemption. All they have to do is convince a judge. It’s a simple matter, but it’s a lot harder to spot in real life. For example, Veronica’s came in the form of a quick conversation in the girl’s locker room. “I saw J.D. hit you last night.” The memory rushed back to Veronica. They were all at some shitty party, when all of a sudden, Jason flew into a seething rage. He caught Veronica and Heather sharing glances. The same glances he used to charm Veronica in the first place, no less. Veronica tried to explain herself- of course she wasn’t in love with Heather- but Jason was having none of it. He socked her square in the jaw, and Veronica stumbled back a bit, somehow keeping herself upright. If she’d been lucky enough, Heather would have looked away by then.
“Is that where all the other stuff is from?” Heather felt her blood run cold. “Veronica, this is serious. He could have broken your jaw! If you’re not careful, he might do something even worse one day.” Veronica wasn’t careful. She was sick and fucking tired of being careful. She wanted to be bold, to be brash and thoughtless and carefree for once in her stupid life. “You should break up with him.”
Heather put a hand on her shoulder. It was soft and gentle, and yet it sent sparks up her spine. “He’s dangerous. Please, Ronnie- if you’re worried about him doing something, I’ll find some way to hide you. You can stay in my room for a while if you need to.”
Veronica wanted nothing more. The thought of living with Heather, even if it was just for a little while thrilled her to no end. But Veronica knew she couldn’t say yes to an offer like that. If she left Jason, he’d do something stupid. And the first person who’d find that out would be Heather. “I can’t.”
“But, Ronnie-”
“I said I can’t.” With that, Veronica’s sentence was final. She turned around and started walking, then jogging, then sprinting- anything to put distance between the two of them. Thankfully, Heather didn’t follow her for long.
Veronica blocked her number that night. A week later, she packed her bags and moved into a trashy little apartment in Boston with J.D. She thought Harvard would be enough to get Jason to cool off a bit, or at the very least, hoped that it’d give her enough time apart from him. But it didn’t. Jason got even clingier, waiting for her outside each and every class, walking her everywhere.
On her nineteenth birthday, one of her classmates spent the day with her to celebrate. And even though she could always feel Jason’s eyes on her, she couldn’t help but fall in love with her. She moved with such poetic grace, spoke with the utmost of elegance and beauty, smelled like cotton candy and vanilla birthday cake. Every little bit of her was intoxicating. And Veronica could tell that she felt the same exact way about her.
It terrified her. That night, she didn’t sleep at all, staring up at her ceiling and trying not to wake up Jason with all her crying. Veronica knew something would have to change if she wanted to be happy again. Something big, something scary; something fatal.
Holding her breath, she crept out of bed and slipped her favorite pair of sneakers on. She debated on changing out of her pajamas, but there wasn’t time. Jason was a light sleeper, and with all her noisy, shallow breaths, she knew she didn’t have much time before he woke up. She tried to keep her footsteps light as she made her way to the door, opening it agonizingly slowly, until finally, she was sprinting down the building’s hallway.
She runs and runs and runs. By the time she decides to take a quick break, she’s not really sure how far she’s gone, but she also doesn’t really care. Veronica sits down and thinks about everything. What she has to lose, what she’s already lost, where she’s going, what she’ll do. Maybe she could go to the police, get a restraining order or something? She’s not sure it’ll work. But she doesn’t want to give up Harvard over this, doesn’t want to give up her dreams and her hopes for this. She’s willing to try.
For the first time in a long, long while, Veronica Sawyer is hopeful.
That’s what made that first yank on her scalp so fucking painful. For a moment, all she can see is Jason, the wild in his eyes, the gun in his hand. And she knows. She knows what’s about to happen. Like a death row inmate on his execution day; she knows.
Veronica struggles for a second, before her eyes widen as the gun goes off once. Right through her skull. It goes off two more times, but she’s gone before she can hear them.
Jason burns her body. He throws the gun into the deepest body of water he can find, and the next day, calls in a missing person’s report. And he sleeps terribly that night, thrashing about and shaking like he was seconds away from dying.
Veronica is dead. But that doesn’t mean she’s gone.