Øverturning the lies (a twenty one pilots fanfiction)

~Mari~

Who is she? Why is she here, now?

Does any of it truly matter?

Mari pushes her long hair out of her eyes.

Sighs.

Her hands are shaking.

Again.

She keeps hoping someone will notice the hurt, the fear, the pain she's in.

But at the same time she's so afraid that they will.

That they will hate her because of what she has done.

She certainly knows she hates it at times.

But then she hates that she hates it.

Wishes, truly wishes she could just accept herself the way she was instead of wanting to change.

"Mari, hey, Mari."

She doesn't turn around.

Recognizes the voice and wants nothing more to just disappear.

"Mari," the voice says again. 

"Xavier," she says. "Please just...please just go, okay? I don't want you to see me like this." 

"Why not?" he asks. "Afraid I'll think any less of you? I know you've been through a lot. I know it."

Mari just frowns. Stares at the dirt.

"I-I promise I won't judge you, okay?" Xavier asks.

"That's easy to say," Mari says. "But do you mean it?"

"Of course I mean it."

"I'm sorry," Mari says, not even completely sure why she's apologizing.

"What for?"

"Everything," she says, rubbing her scars and hating that she can't completely get rid of the urge to add more of them; she's made of scars as it is, what difference will a few more make?

That thought doesn't even scare her anymore.

Thoughts like that, well, she's begun to grow used to them.

The intrusiveness of them, the way they just crept in and stayed there, stubborn and unyielding to her own mind-in a way, that was normal.

If they just left her alone now, that would be strange indeed.

Perhaps not bad, no.

No.

Not at all.

She wishes they would leave her alone.

But now, how long later? Months? Years?

She doesn't even know.

But she does know that it seems like an eternity has passed since she felt like herself.

So long that this person she finds herself...she doesn't even know who that is.

She's lost inside of a mind, a body she doesn't even understand, let alone know how to control.

"Mari-I-"

"What?" she asks, and hates it when her voice comes out sounding irritated; bothered.

Why can't she even control that small thing?

Why can't she?

"How can I help you?" Mari startles.

He's...he's still there.