guilty // madeon

Chapter 1 - Needy In Nantes

Jean tried calling his daughter's phone for what seemed like the millionth time in a row, to no avail, of course. It had been 3 days since he "evicted" her from their family home - which was done purely out of anger - and he was busy trying to find her again. He went to his wife Marie sobbing, saying, "I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it..." but it seemed as if Marie was angrier than he was.  

Marie avoided Jean ever since he kicked Christelle out. Though it never seemed like it, Marie adored her. She instantaneously felt for her after hearing that her biological mother had passed, as she went through the same situation at the same age. She never bothered getting closer to Christelle, as she had some idea as to how Christelle felt about her. She already knew the resentment and hate that was felt, but not shared mutually, and the "you're not my real mother" excuse was the reason why. 

Jean stared at himself in the mirror, resonating the words that just didn't seem to be true, yet were. 

"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."

He wanted his daughter back desperately, as he feared for her handling life on her own. 

~ 

Christelle 

It was only a matter of time before I was on a train, looking up 'free abortions in area' on Google. 

There was no way in hell I could have this baby. For starters, I was starving. If this baby's inside me, it's probably dead by now. With all the frivolous things my father packed, food was not one of them. Second, I know how Maxim is, and he's too reckless to be a father right now. I feared for us and the child. Third, I didn't have many - no, scratch that, any - friends at all. What would happen if I was living with Maxim and we broke up? Where would I go? A shelter,that's where. Fourth, my father would not stop calling or texting me. I knew I had to answer him eventually, but he was the last person I wanted to speak to or see ever again. And Marie. Oh God, that Marie. He cared about her more than he did me, which is unbelievable, seeing as I was the only one who cared for him when Mum died. He doesn't even love her. She's more like a trophy wife, if you ask me. It was in that moment that I realised how much I could call bullshit upon my own life. 

The train stopped abruptly, signaling the first stop on what would be an extremely long and hard journey. I took the train from Paris to Nantes, and from here there's another one that should go from Nantes to London. The next train would leave at 17:00, and it was 16:30, so I had some time to spare. I grabbed my belongings and made my way into the train station, looking around for a stand selling food. I found exactly what I was looking for when I saw a stand selling various desserts, which, coincidentally, were my favourite thing to eat. The only downside about this was that the line was extremely long. It nearly strectched from the back of the station all the way to the railings! It doesn't matter, I guess....I thought. 

I stood in line for what felt like forever when my phone finally buzzed. I checked the screen to see that it indeed wasn't my father, but Maxim instead. I eagerly answered the phone, a decision I would soon come to regret. 

"Hey, Max," I said, relieved. 

"Christie...you aren't on the train already, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm already in Nantes. Why? What's up?"

I could hear him sigh deeply on the other side of the phone, and I already knew that this was going to be bad. "Christie...I'm sorry, but after some thinking, I already know that I can't raise this child with you."

I nearly dropped the phone out of my hands, but I knew I had to keep everything calm, as I was in public. "W-What?" I say, barely above a whisper. 

"I'm sorry, but we're both too young and I don't think I could be with you if--"

"You can't be with me?! What the hell do you mean?! I'm carrying your fucking baby, Maxim!"

"I know. Knowing you, you were about to abort it anyway. Christelle, we're irresponsible. We're bad for each other."

"WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR FOUR YEARS!" I was beginning to shout now, and I didn't care who was looking at me. 

"And they have to end now. I'm sorry." 

And that was it. 

We were over. 

I ran to the nearest bathroom, slumped on the for, and began to cry. How could he have done this to me, knowing all that I'm going through? I've never considered suicide in my life, but it was the only thing on my mind. 

Everyone hates me. I want to die. 

What angered me the most was how no one even thought to take my feelings into consideration. Everyone was so selfish, only thinking about themselves, not me, or this baby. It was clear that I was getting it aborted, because at this point, I couldn't raise it. It wouldn't have a father or even grandparents. It was useless. 

I laughed to myself a little in the bathroom stall, because through all this, I was still hungry. I picked myself up off the floor after a while and walked back into line, bags all intact. I could go back to my father's house, but...no, no I couldn't. I could never go back there. I wasn't welcome. I guessed I could still make it to London and patch things up with Maxim, baby or no baby. When I went back into line, nearly no one was there, so I just walked up and ordered. 

"Salut, pourrais-je obtenir deux gâteaux de livres et deux tartes de baies?" (I asked for two berry pies and two pound cakes. Don't judge me -- I was hungry.) 

"18," The cashier said.  

I handed him the money and waited patiently for my order to be made. I took a glance at the clock as it said 17:01.  

WAIT. 17:01? I MISSED THE TRAIN!! 

I hurried to the port, not caring about my hunger, somewhat hoping that the train had been late, and just as I expected, there were no cars, no trains, nothing. 

So, now, let's do a recap: 

I was stuck in Nantes. 

I had no boyfriend. 

I had no family. 

I was homeless. 

And I only had 670 euros on me. 

I'm fucked.