Yandere Rochelle Goyle x Reader

Chapter 23:

You sat with wide eyes as you waited for the bus. Rochelle didn't spare you a glance, and instead, she kept her eyes focused on the monsters around you. Both of you were anxious, but for two completely different reasons.

You wondered if this was the end. Rochelle would take you away, and you'd never find your way back. You'd never escape. You'd be stuck with her. You'd be trapped. You'd be held against your will.

Your fingers dug into your knees as you tried to steady your breathing. You didn't want to give away any hints to what you felt. You had to seem confident, or at least well put together.

Rochelle worried about the success of her plan. It seemed like a very thought-out plan with no chance of failure. Rochelle had to expect everything, even the impossible, which allowed her to plan and prep. However, one small slip-up could ruin the entire thing.

She gripped the handle to the bag she still held. She didn't want to worry you with her own anxieties and concerns. The less you knew, the better.

If you didn't know, you couldn't plot against her.

If you couldn't plot against her, you couldn't act on those plots.

If you couldn't act, she didn't have to create a new plan.

If she didn't have to create a new plan, then there would be no reason for it to fail.

It was simple to her. Just keep you in the dark and pretend everything is fine.

You looked around through the dark, calculating your chances of survival if you stood and ran. Although you wouldn't actually run, it was a nice fantasy to distract yourself with. Anything to ease your nerves.

You felt a sudden tap on your shoulder, and you looked to Rochelle with wide eyes. She held her hand out with a stone cold face.

"Come on, the bus is here." She mumbled. You stood and took her hand, allowing her to lead you up the steps of the bus and to a seat.

Once you got situated in your seat, you looked out of the window. Your stomach turned in regret. This was the last time you'd ever see your town again. You just knew it.

Slowly, the bus rolled away from the benches, and you allowed a small tear to escape from your eye as you watched your home disappear from view. A new emptiness nestled into your gut, and you inhaled deeply.

You had nothing left.

You weren't sure how long you had allowed yourself to space out, but when you finally snapped to reality, the talking had quieted.

You looked around, noticing the now empty bus. Only you and Rochelle sat on it while the driver hummed softly to the music playing through his headphones. You glanced at Rochelle, not daring to speak.

She held her eyes open as she stared blankly into the seat in front of her. Dark circles outlined her eyes, and her once soft hair had turned frizzy. She turned to you, and you jerked your head down to avoid eye contact.

Her hand found yours, and she squeezed it gently. Her newfound kindness startled you.

"What's wrong?" She asked with a tired smile. "Are you getting sleepy?"

You shook your head no, not wanting to give her a shred of your voice. You figured it was better to give a bare response than no response at all. She frowned as her brows furrowed. "Then what is it?"

You shook your head again and looked back out the window. She gave a soft sigh and slowly released your hand. You could feel the disappointment radiate from her, but you didn't care enough to respond to it.

You sat in silence once again, allowing your mind to envelope you completely.

You had honestly thought that you'd be more upset than what you were. Not that you enjoyed it, no, not in the slightest. But instead, you found it very difficult to become upset. You were exhausted. Not just physically but emotionally and mentally as well. Everything had taken a toll on you, and now it felt as if your very life had been ripped from your body. In its place was a cold, dark blankness.

You didn't care whether you lived or died. You didn't care if she took you to Africa or if she left you at home. You didn't care what happened to anyone. You were done. Done worrying. Done being scared. Done caring. Done trying.

It was disturbing to you. At one point, you feared that your emotions would never leave, and yet now you sat unfazed and unmoved by her. You were completely drained and unable to make any efforts.

It was freeing in a way as well. You had nothing to preserve anymore. Nothing to protect.

Rochelle stared at you as you pondered to yourself. Something was different about you. Something seemed missing from. But what could she do?

Well, she could do a lot, just not yet. She had to make her plans work. She had to make you hers first.

She knew you'd thank her after everything was sad and done. So what if you didn't know what you wanted? You would realize sooner or later, and that was a day she was dying for.

Surely, everything would fall into place after that. You'd love her and have children with her. You'd marry and grow old together. And eventually, everything she had done and everything you had been through would become your love story. Eventually everything would be admired and appreciated.

She just had to wait. She just had to stay strong.

If not for her then for your future together. And if not for that, then for you.