RUNAWAY [[A Harry Styles and Marcel fanfic]]

c-three-

~.*.*.*.~

The sight of the huge window sends the ideas running wild in my head. I am sitting here, with my fiancé, the priest at the aisle, my father waiting for me at the door, my two best friends outside the toilet, and here i am, measuring the proximity between the ground and the window sill, chalking out methods to reach there. What doesn’t cross my mind is the consequence, if at all there be any.

I have made up my mind. i am not going to accept the way i am being given away. It wasn’t like i couldn’t have changed, i just needed a warning. This entire marriage proposal came as a lightning strike on me.

I return from a night of partying at the back of the school and i stumble into the door of the unlocked house. Strange. Who leaves the door unlocked at one in the morning?

The lights are still lit bright. Who the hell leaves the light on at fucking one at night? When i walk further inside, i see daddy and mom, shooting me death glares. Why haven’t they gone to bed yet? Luckily i am sober enough to behave myself. Like i said, i knew my limits.

“Do you know what time is it?” mom asks me, tying another knot to her satin night robe. “one.” I reply blatantly, as if it was completely normal, like a routine.

“You can’t come home just like that, and dare i say, i do smell alcohol in your breath.”

“I am twenty two, mom for the hundredth time.”

“That doesn’t give you the permission to get home drunk whenever you feel like. Think about us for a little while. Our reputation is at stake because of the way you behave. That isn’t the way someone from a background like yours should behave.”

“A background like mine is the exact reason why someone should behave like this.” I crash in between.

“This is ridiculous. Honey, will you hear the way she is talking to me?” my daddy says nothing.

“And that is why i prefer saying nothing to you.” I barge in again.

“Listen now, Abigail, if you don’t get your behaviour right-“

“The Walters are going to be here tomorrow to meet you, they are a good friend of mine. so you better behave yourself.” My daddy cuts mom mid-sentence.

“What do you mean by ‘be here tomorrow to meet me.’?

“We have arranged your marriage with their only son Marcel.” He says sternly.

“Are you kidding me?” i laugh sardonically.

“No we are not.” My mom agrees.

“How on earth do you think you will fix my wedding with some random guy i have never met and i will just go along with it?” i say, raising my voice.

“You will do exactly what we say.” My father snaps back, loudly at me. He has never spoken to me this way before.

“And why is so?” i feel the tears burning my eyes, but i decide to fight them away till the last fibre of my strength is tested.

“So that you don’t ruin yourself worse than you have ruined yourself now.” My father states, and i give him a confused look.

“We have always given you what you have wanted, but you need to realize we won’t be around you forever. You need stability in life. All those punk friends of yours are going to be of no use to you and you are going to regret doing whatever you did, if you don’t listen to us now.” I roll my eyes at my mom as she rambles on.

“Marcel is amazing, he will give you whatever you want, and he has no problem with the fact that you aren’t qualified.” She says bitterly, like i am the illiterate in the family. “He will give you security, stability, and love.” I can’t fight my urge to cry now, and at the same time laugh, like i am hoping it is all a joke. But no one plays this sick a joke at one in the morning. My eyes are lined with tears already, but i still am trying to hold them back. What i give away is only a scoff.

“Now, be a nice girl, and go get some rest. You don’t want to look absolutely hung-over tomorrow now, do you?” my mom fakes a concern, dismissing me to my bedroom. Before i could sprint towards the stairs, i hear a voice summon me again.

“Abigail,” i cringe at the enunciation of my name. “i need you to give me your cell phone before you go to bed.” My dad calls out, bluntly and coldly.

“But why?” i croak.

“Because i can.”

I want to smash my phone on the ground and break it into a million parts, but i don’t have the courage to fight anymore. It is futile. My life has been taken away from me, and has been placed in someone else’s, and my opinion, isn’t even needed. It is decided and my fate has been sealed. So i silently pull it out of my pocket, and place it on the table, before walking past my mother to the stairway.

I rush to my bedroom, tired mentally than physically. I bury my face in the pillow and yell as loudly as i could. Wish i could have done that downstairs, but i couldn’t seem to find my voice. But it was unlikely screaming was going to change anything. Being grounded at twenty two seems funny, but at the same time it isn’t funny at all. This is some deep shit, and it isn’t like i am banned to go outside, or banned from playing video games. This is being banned from life.

I let my tears flow recklessly, smudging my face, my pillows, my sheets, but i don’t give a fuck. Eventually, i fall asleep, and somehow decide, that i will have to go with it.

I am snapped out of my daydreaming,, when i hear another loud knock on the door. “How much longer are you going to take? Your mother has come to check on us, almost three times now.” Caty shouts through the door.

“Almost done now.” I reply, standing on the lid of the commode, barefoot. I had a chance to runaway, two weeks back, but i didn’t. Now is another chance, and i am going to embrace it with open arms.

Luckily the window sill isn’t too out of reach. I toss my heels out of the window first, and place one foot on the sill. Securing a tight grip on the grill on either side of the window, i yank myself up, giving in all the strength i could physically muster. There was no room for mess ups.

Once i am squatted on the sill, i look around for people, no one there. That was my cue to jump.

I jump down, with a low sounding thud and i take a few seconds to recover from the aftermath of the jolt, which is running up my nerves into my brain. I make a run for the streets, which is surprisingly empty for a Wednesday afternoon. Who the hell decides a weekday as a suitable day for a damn wedding?

I am least bothered about the scene that might be taking place inside, because obviously, Carly and Caty would realize that i have stopped answering. And the way my mom is, she won’t at all be okay with me missing. The last thing i would expect is a search squad assigned to find me. Before it is too late, i decide which direction it would be better to run.

~.*.*.*.~