The Parasite [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 21 - (The Family)

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store flickered overhead as I pushed my cart down the aisle, lost in thoughts of the unsettling events at the mansion. The familiar hum of refrigerators and distant chatter of shoppers provided a comforting backdrop, until the abrupt arrival of my parents shattered the calm.

Why now?

Why here?

"We've been talking to the lawyer, Y/N!" My mother's voice sliced through the air, filled with accusation and frustration. Heads turned as she continued, her words sharp and loud. "We're going to fight this in court!"

I froze, my heart racing as I turned to face them. People around us paused in their shopping, eyes darting between us with curiosity and discomfort.

Not here.

Please, not here.

"Mom, Dad, please," I implored softly, trying to keep my composure despite the rising tension.

"We've had enough of this," my father interjected, his voice edged with anger. "You think it's fair to take everything for yourself?"

"It's not like that," I replied, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. "Grandma and Grandpa left me the mansion, but that doesn't mean—"

"They left us with nothing!" my mother cut in, her voice rising. "And you get to live in that mansion all by yourself?"

"I didn't ask for this," I whispered, feeling exposed under the gaze of strangers.

"We don't care," my father retorted, his face flushed with emotion. "We're not letting you walk away with everything."

Feeling overwhelmed, I turned away and hurried out of the store, their voices following me like a relentless storm. "We'll see you in court, Y/N!"

The drive back to the mansion was a blur of emotions and unresolved tension. Every mile seemed to stretch on endlessly as I grappled with the fallout from the confrontation with my parents. Their accusations and anger echoed in my mind, mingling with my own feelings of hurt and confusion.

I need to get away.

I need to think.

As I pulled up to the mansion, I hoped for a moment of respite, a chance to collect my thoughts in the solitude of my home. But my hopes were dashed when I saw their car pull into the driveway behind me, determined and relentless.

Why won't they just leave me alone?

"Mom, Dad, please," I pleaded as they approached, my voice tinged with desperation. "We don't need to do this here."

"We're not backing down, Y/N," my father said firmly, his jaw set in stubborn resolve. "We need to talk about this."

Before I could respond, the front door of the mansion swung open, and Maia emerged, her presence a welcome anchor in the storm that threatened to engulf me.

Thank God for Maia.

I need her now more than ever.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Maia called out, her voice firm and protective as she marched towards us.

My mother's face twisted with frustration. "This is none of your business, Maia. Stay out of it."

Maia stood her ground, undeterred by my mother's sharp tone. "It is my business when my friend is being harassed in her own driveway."

"Harassed?" my father scoffed, his tone dismissive. "We're just trying to sort out this mess."

"And you think yelling at her in public is the way to do it?" Maia retorted, her voice rising with indignation. "She's already dealing with enough without you two adding to it."

I stood silently between them, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—gratitude for Maia's unwavering support, and a sinking feeling of betrayal by my own family. The tension crackled in the air, each word spoken like a dagger cutting through the fragile peace.

Why does it have to be like this?

Why can't they understand?

"Y/N," my mother began, her voice softer now but still filled with determination, "we're going to contest this. Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't have wanted—"

"I know what they would have wanted," I interrupted, my voice trembling with emotion. "But they made their decision, and it's not up to you to change that."

Why can't they just accept it?

Why can't they see how much this hurts me too?

"Maybe not legally," my father conceded, his expression tight with frustration, "but morally, we have a right—"

"Morally?" Maia interjected incredulously. "You're talking about morality after ambushing her in a grocery store parking lot?"

My parents exchanged a tense glance, the weight of Maia's words hanging heavily between us. For a moment, the standoff seemed to stretch into eternity, the quiet evening air punctuated only by the sound of distant birdsong and the rustling of leaves.

Please, just let this end.

I can't take much more.

Finally, my mother sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "We'll talk about this later, Y/N," she said quietly, her gaze flickering with a mix of apology and resignation.

As they retreated to their car and drove away, the tension in the air slowly dissipated, leaving behind a hollow ache in its wake. Maia approached me cautiously, her expression a blend of concern and solidarity.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

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(812 Words)