Assassination [ miraculous ladybug ]

three

MARINETTE

Being eighteen was like walking through hell.

She was old enough to understand why the rest of her family hated every single bit of her, that they would not even bother to come at her mother's funeral just because they didn't want to be seen—or be in any contact—with her.

Marinette, her grandmother, Gina, started on the letter she sent the day before Marinette's mother's funeral.

Marinette,

We will not be attending your mother's funeral.

Now, given that most of your family on your mother's side are not alive, I am very well aware that the outcome of this is just you attending the funeral of my son's wife.

Do not even think about sending back a letter to me, or to any of us—especially your father—begging for us to come. I guarantee you that it will not benefit you and will only leave my family and I terrified to the edges of our bones. Everything you touch is dangerous, and we do not want to have any contact with the likes of you.

I already hated your mother. She—her family—were murderers. Assassins. Even writing that sent horrible shivers down my spine. I do not know how my son even got the idea of bonding with your mother. But you . . . you are even worse than all of Sabine's family combined. I cannot find the correct words to describe how I feel towards you; consider it a miracle that I even thought of writing a letter to you. I'm kind enough to be able to do that.

Gina

After crumpling the paper into a ball and burning it with a makeshift fire that drained most of her energy out, Marinette screamed, almost ripping her hair out of her skull.

All her life, all her life, her only friend and family was her mother, Sabine. The moment she opens her eyes in the morning, the first person she sees is her mother. Before she closes her eyes, the last person she sees is her mother, and it has always been like that everyday, and she has never complained. Marinette loved her mother so much she was willing to give her life for her.

During the days when her mother was sick, lying on her bed, skin as smooth and as thin as paper, pale as the moon without its light, and breaths as shallow as it could be, Marinette tried to take away her earrings and let her mother wear it.

She knew it was impossible; the cursed jewelry would never leave her. But she was desperate. As desperate as a small zebra trying to survive a bite from a large lion. As desperate as a child trying to live in the middle of an ocean. As desperate as a daughter trying to save her mother.

When her mother would not wake up anymore but was still barely breathing, Marinette chopped off her ears using a knife. She did not know whether her screams of agony were from the pain of slicing off her ears, or from the pain of realizing that her mother was going to die soon. She did not care about the blood continuously flowing through her head all the way down to her toes; she wanted to give her earrings to her mother to give her life. Because she lost too much blood, she fell down the floor, her body trembling from pain, and lost consciousness.

However, the earrings seemed to refuse not being anywhere near Marinette.

The moment she woke up, Marinette rushed to the mirror to see both of her ears on the sides of her head again, with the earrings glowing underneath the sunlight, as if they were mocking her. She hated it. She hated the heavens, the gods, or whoever was there watching from above, for choosing her. She hated herself.