Darkling

7. Baker Girl

"Wake up! Wake up Marinette" a voice called; my breathing hitched. Groaning my eyes cracked open, only to awake to brightness and memories.

Chat Blanc!

The Akuma!

Princess Justice!

My miraculous!

Sitting up I pulled the covers off me. Looking up I got on my knees to check the window and it was indeed locked. Stumbling down the stairs I made my way to my vanity to check for my miraculous.

"Marinette a word" the voice was from Maman, spinning around in a panic my feet tripped over the fabric of my costume. Which was not the best idea soon the feeling of nausea rushed through me. Hands flying to the vanity's edge for balance. Knocking over hair ties, to no avail I landed on the floor with a hard thud. Across the room on my chaise was Maman.

'What in the world is she doing in here?' Ugh, I felt nauseated, and my head was pounding.

Gathering the items off the floor I stood up, placing them back into their box. Looking into the mirror I pulled my hair back. Sighing in relief at the sight of the power of creation.

'Oh, thank goodness it was just a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

Heading over to my desk I checked my charging phone to see that it was four in the morning. Monday morning to be exact, the day my suspension and extra shifts at the bakery had officially lifted.

"Maman, do -you need me -for something," I asked trying so hard not to slur my words as the pounding increased.

"Your father and I would really appreciate you coming down to help us. Get the bakery prepped and ready for opening." She stood up and walked over to the trapdoor on the floor. "Unless you're too busy sleeping your life away." She said and I winced at the harshness of her voice.

"Maman, I thought that when my suspension was over. So wouldn't have to be waking up... so early in the morning."

"Downstairs now" she demanded without even looking at me and pulled the door opened to leave. Leaving me alone with my throbbing head; stumbling over to my closet. Pulling out an old pink t-shirt and grey sweats. Stripping out of my pajamas I slipped on the sweats. Another wave of nausea came over me and I rushed over to a small trashcan near my desk. Dry heaving, stomach clenching as my back arched. Soon vomit rushed up to my throat in such a violent manner. Throat feeling raw and burned from the alcohol and vomit as my body continued to get rid of everything. The sound of me retching alarmed Tikki and she came to check on me.

After assuring her that I was fine I sat on the floor I rubbed the back of my hand against my mouth. Getting up off the floor I walked to grab my T-shirt, phone, and hair tie. As I pulled my hair into a top knot bun. Tikki flew to get another ibuprofen pill.

"How are you going to attend school when your hungover, Marinette?"

"Well, it's simple I'm not going" I popped the pill and went to slip on my pink, grey sneakers and grab the bag of vomit. "Call it a mental health day," I said gesturing for her to hide in my bun while opening the trap door I headed down to the dining room. The dining room's trash bag was getting full, so I added my trash to it and took the trash down the other flight of stairs. Heading to the bakery I exited through the backdoor and threw it away.

Entering the bakery my family moved as if on autopilot. Papa was busy making quiche, crème puffs and macarons. While Maman was counting the money from the cash register. While I wiped down countertops and sweeping the floor. Once we had finished everything it was 7 am. We all had an hour until the bakery opened. Gathering around a table in the back to eat breakfast.