Light -Marcel Fanfiction-

Chapter Twelve

"Marcel?"

"Yeah?" I fiddle with my pencil, resting between my slender fingers.

"You've been acting differently," my coworker frowns.

"John, go back to work."

"Who did it?"

"Who did what?" I blush.

"Who made you act so funny? You came in to work three hours late yesterday," he laughs.

"N-nobody, I was j-just tired," I mumble, typing rapidly with a hot face.

"Mm hmm," John smirks, but continues working. Such nosy people these days.

..

"Hey, slut!" I groan in annoyance and turn around.

"What the fuck do you want, Mackenzie?" I grumble. That blonde she-devil and her friend stand defiantly in front of me, their elbows abutting as their arms are crossed. The red-head has a hard bandage over her nose. Broken.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've started boxing! That trainer is hot," she smirks.

"Jason?" She bobs her head. "Careful, he'll beat the shit out of you if you actually manage to do something to me."

"Wanna see what he taught me?" Mackenzie says and before I can respond she slugs me in the stomach and tries to slap me in the face, but I clamp my hand around her wrist and lock my eyes on her, mine fiery.

"I know he didn't teach you that slap," I growl. "He's not that stupid." I twist her arm a little until she cries out in pain. I twist it any further and I'll break it. "You know, I could break your arm right now," I say casually. Then I groan when a foot comes in contact with my back. My fingers are still wrapped around Mackenzie's wrist and my feet are still planted on the ground.

"Forgot about me?" the red-head hisses.

"Yeah, you're not too special, just slipped my mind," I shrug. Mackenzie whimpers at the movement. "Now, you two are gonna walk away now."

"Not, bitch!" Mackenzie screeches and hurls a fist at me. It gets me right in the eye and I grunt, letting go of her arm. The red-head kicks me again and Mackenzie slaps me in the face before I push Mackenzie onto the ground and whirl on my heel to face her friend.

"What's your name?" I smile.

"Gwen, why?" she spits in disgust.

"Well, Gwen, have you ever broken your jaw?"

"N-no..." I grab the girl's jaw as Mackenzie stands up.

"It hurts pretty bad," I say calmly.

"Oh," she squeaks. I tighten my grip.

"Yeah, you can't eat or talk for a couple days, it really sucks. But maybe you shouldn't take it from me, maybe you can find out for yourself?" Mackenzie tenses behind me, about to make a move. I suck as she hurls a terrible, poorly executed punch, right into her friend's already broken nose. They both scream.

"I'm going home," I state, and pick up my backpack.

Gonna have a black eye, another busted lip, don't even know how that got there, bruised jaw, bruised stomach, bloody nose. I whimper as I clean up my sore wounds, strip off and sit in the bath, before filling it to the brim with steaming water. I pull my knees to my chin and sigh. I begin to relax.

And then I cry.

I break down into horrible hysterical sobs as the rooms fogs with steam, tears sliding off my bruised cheeks and mixing with the hot water. My shoulders shake as I weep, hugging myself, crying and crying and crying until there is nothing left to feel.