Transformation (Marcel FanFic)

Transformation 35

~Thirty Five~

PLEASE READ! ---> I would love it if you played the music on the side! Thank you :) I hope it matches up with the texts, when I read it did, but it all depends on how fast or slow you read! IF THE MUSIC ISNT PLAYING GO TO YOUTUBE AND LOOK FOR "Dont Let Me Go" by Harry. Anyways here's chapter 35

"I just want him to get away from that girl." Tears were falling from my eyes as I spoke. I was going to send one of my baby boys away. "Do you think it'll help?"

"I'm not sure, maybe. We'll have to see how it goes first."

"Please, keep him safe. Don't let him get hurt."

"I wont, I promise. I'll get his things ready."  The line went dead.

'''''''''

I didn't know what was more heartbreaking, the fact that I over heard my mother say those words, or the fact that she broke down, and i didn't go to comfort her. I shouldn't have eavesdropped, hell, I should have just starved myself, but the rumbling in my stomach just grew and grew. I knew I should leave, and possibly never come back. It's not like anyone actually cares.

I have no one. No one to tell, no one who would actually care what I had to say anyways. No one knows what it feels like to just hear those words of defeat coming from their mother. My whole world was crashing down on me at once, and I have no idea where to begin in order to fix them. 

Her sobs grew louder and louder, and I couldn't stand it. I was ready to pull my hair out. She didn't deserve this. My own mother didn't deserve to suffer for my wrong doings. I wanted nothing more than to hug her, and tell her everything was going to be okay, but how could I? She wont speak to me, she wont even look at me without having the slightest hint of dis concern and disgust in her eye. She's my mother, she will always love me, but I don't feel like I deserve it. It 's only been a few days, but it's as if all the love she has had for me is gone, never to return.

That's how I felt at the moment. Never wanting to return. To run far from here, and just never look back. To just go and forget about what Ive done. Frankly, it could be much worse, but just seeing the disappointment in her eyes makes me weak.

I was starting to retrieve back to my room when the bell rang. My mother turned to answer it but soon stopped her actions. Her eyes widen at the realization that I had just heard her entire conversation with my father. She didn't move after she saw me, her body was stiff and rigid, and she just looked at me. The bell rang again, and she finally recovered from her awestruck phase. I turned my body to see who was at the door. I'd be lying if I didn't say my breathe got caught when the bell rang, thinking it was my father, but they had just finished talking, and he lives about 3 hours away. I was being paranoid for no reason... yet.

"Hello sweetheart." Robin walked in through the door, kissing my mum on the cheek. He was all smiles until he saw me standing there. "Marcel." He nods toward me. I don't reply, and just head to the kitchen in order to find something that put my stomach at ease.

I hear whispers coming form the living room, and I can only assume they're talking about me. I grab an orange and sit on the stool in front of the counter. The whispers seem to get smaller and fainter as time passes, and then they're gone altogether. They headed upstairs, to pack my stuff probably. 

I peel my orange while my stomach rumbles loud and more frequently, but I cant seem to bring the orange slice to my mouth. My stomach is telling me I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat. I just sit on the stool, fiddling with my fingers. I don't bother getting up, I just let myself sit here.

I know I've messed up, but it could be worse. The worst thing is that I cant talk to anyone, because no one wants to talk to me. I would usually go to Harry, but he'll probably agree with my mother and send me away. The only other person I would go to is Amie, but she doesn't want to see me.

It feels like I've been sitting for hours, but when I look at the time its only been 10 minutes. Time doesn't seem to be on my side, but I should it be. I've done nothing for it to be on my side. I've done nothing but waste it. I've done nothing but humiliate it. I've done nothing but use it to my advantage, and step all over it, and hurt it, and just break it. I've done nothing...

I have no one. It's my fault, but I wish it wasn't. It's easier to blame someone else for the mistakes I made, but I cant because I know it's my fault I'm going to be away from my mum. My head falls into my hands as I try to stop myself from crying, but the tears are there, threatening to escape. I try hard to not let them, but they do, and I fail myself once again.

Night takes its place outside, and I'm still sitting in the damn stool. I haven't even tried to get up and get some rest. I don't want to move. My legs feel like they have been tied down with bricks, but I've just been sitting. I tried to move, but my legs are weak, so I just stopped trying. My head aches, and my eyes are red, swollen, and stinging from the amount of crying I've done.

I just stare out the window, in the dark, hoping that morning comes sooner than later. I'm still crying, sadly, but I've mastered the arts of silently crying. I guess that's a good thing... Well before, when I actually didn't want anyone to know I was crying, but now, maybe I hated the fact that no could hear me. Maybe I wanted them to hear me, just so that I know they care... but they don't, so there really isn't a point of making a scene.

I finally have the courage to look up at the clock displayed over the oven once I'm able to see correctly.  

1:35 am

It's late, but I still don't move. I sit there for what seems the entire night, rummaging the fridge, finally caving into my hunger cravings. Nothing seems appetizing, but I need to eat, the last meal I had was last night. I settle with a bowl of cereal because nothing else calls my attention.

I finally flick the light on, and eat. I didn't think I was really hungry, but I ended up eating three bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios, but when I was finished I still didn't go upstairs. I sat down, but not on the stool, on the floor by the door that leads to the backyard. I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them. I started humming to a song I had written a few months ago, hoping it would calm me down, I was thankful it did, but once the humming stopped, I started singing, hiccuping now and then because of the tears.

"Don't let me. Don't let me Don't let me go

'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

Don't let me. Don't let me Don't let me go

Cause I'm tired of sleeping alone."