𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

I felt a million different thoughts corrupting my brain. It takes me a while to process everything that has just occurred in the past hour. The man that I have spent the past 7 years feeling guilty over murdering was Marco Russo's father. The reason that I was at this school was for murdering his father. How am I supposed to process this? This realization makes so many things seem different, why Marco has hated me for so long, but perhaps he's also feared me in the process? I mean what if to him, I'd known all along and I was just dragging on a stupid thought.

Of course, I wasn't, but he didn't know that. After Marco whispered that to me, I didn't know how to respond, and just stood there, feeling scared, shocked, and extremely upset for myself and Marco. I felt more upset because Marco didn't know the reason why I did what I had to do. After he left, I immediately headed to my room, desperate to get away from everything and everyone.

I lie in my bed, trying to get some sleep. and failing. How did Marco know it was his father that I killed? How did he know I had killed someone in the first place?

I feel my eyes shut as I drown in sleep, into a familiar dream that just seems too good to be true...

I'm in class, and no one is laughing, well they're laughing just not at me. Marco walks in and I go up to him giving him a morning hug as he presses a light kiss on my forehead. "Good morning princess," he says before moving his mouth to my ear "god you look so fucking stunning in that dress," he says before kissing me on my neck lightly, causing butterflies all over my body.

I feel Caleb looking at me, jealousy on his face and I can see him ogling my slim legs. I feel guilty for wearing something so revealing, especially since I'm dating Marco Russo, a man who's ten times better than me. That's right, I'm dating Marco Russo. And he's nice, he's different, he's forgiven me for murdering his father and he loves me. He loves me.

"Marco?" I ask him in a whisper.

"What is it, my love?" He asks me in a soft tone, the same tone he uses always. To make sure I'm never afraid of him.

"Is my dress too short?" I say stammering, my words not even coming out properly.

He looks at me for a moment before saying to me "My love you can wear what you want. I'm your boyfriend sweetheart and if anyone tries to think about taking you, I can fight. You know I can baby." He says to me in his occasional flirty tone, making my cheeks burn red and causing him to laugh at my cuteness.

I think about how lucky I am, how he's not wrong to me anymore. How he loves me, he doesn't hate me and I don't hate him.

And then I wake up. It's pointless to dream yet I can't help but do it anyway. I can't help but wonder what life would be like if all my worries were evaporated out of existence. It's a weakness. Dreaming allows me to forget reality, which is that Marco Russo will never change; he's incapable of doing so. It's infuriating me that once again I've succumbed to my thoughts and had a dream about Marco Russo. Despite all the cruel remarks, snide comments, arrogance, and nastiness he has given me, I still wish to explain to him and justify why I murdered his father for closure, and perhaps validation too.

What is wrong with me?

I seek his forgiveness, I shouldn't but I do. I want him to forgive me, so he can stop torturing me all da. Perhaps we could be friends, lovers? He tortures me so much, but he's so attractive in the way he does it, it drives me feral.

I wouldn't say I love him, far from it. I hate Marco Russo. But I am also attracted to him. I mean who wouldn't be? He's flawless when it comes to looks. Not personality. A small part of me still hopes I could turn the devil into a soft angel, that loves and treasures everyone around them. Why do I always like the dangerous ones?

I'm saying all of this like I have a chance and like I'd give Marco a chance if he ever asked for one. Marco looks at me like I'm utter garbage. He hates everything about me, to him I am the ugliest person in the room and he's made that known to me.

Therefore, the idea of love with him is laughable.
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Marcos POV
I leave the bathroom, a variety of emotions running through my mind. Anger, betrayal, confusion.

Ruth Bernadette killed my father.

Whether or was planned or not, I don't know. But I need to know.

This is the girl I have tortured and hurt for so long, the girl that I've seen at her most vulnerable. The girl I've mocked, teased, punched, kicked. I'm glad I have, she deserves it. She deserves torture to come to her.

I am slightly relieved that she didn't know that it was my father this whole time, she would have to be the lowest of the lows to victimize and act sorry for herself constantly, knowing that I have good reason to be horrible to her.

But she doesn't know. Or well she didn't. She didn't know the man that she had killed was my father. I don't know why but that does make me feel better. But it also makes me wonder if she had known. if she had known that the man she killed was my father, would she act differently in school? Would she act like she knew nothing of anything?

I feel like I'm not making sense. This whole thing is screwing with my brain. But I know that I need to know why for sure. Why she killed him? Did she do it on accident? What the fuck happened? I'll ask her and if she doesn't give me answers, I'll force them out of her with as much strength as necessary.

I loathe Ruth Bernadette. I can't believe that she's done this. I don't want to. I blame myself for the fact that I can't stop thinking about her. It kills me that, if it wasn't for the fact she had killed my father, I could see myself changing myself for her, and loving her. I feel revulsion for what she's done, how we have become sworn enemies to each other.

A small part of me also feels relief. Now she can understand I've not treated her like hell for no reason. I have good reason to annihilate her out of existence for hurting my blood. Wouldn't anyone be mad that their father died? I know I've made her life hell, to say the word hell may be a bit too light, but this whole time I've felt she's deserved it. And I'll know tomorrow when I hear her reasoning if she has.

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