Hazy

Bonus Chapter. (Marcel's P.O.V)

Marcel

The Days After

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Day One

“Where’s Jamie?” were the first words I said when I woke up the next day, my sister narrated it to me – with nightmares intact. I was concerned, but inch by inch, the silent anger was building in. Was it really anger? Or loss? The feeling of having to lose someone, the surge that that someone was not even yours.

“She’s not here, sweetheart. She’s not here.” Mom pulled me into a hug and I knew from then that she cried, too. I mean, maybe this was her way to actually cry for a reason, even when it’s really, probably unreasonable for her.

I started to speak out, “I wann—“ but I was cut short.

“Shhh, Gemma told me everything. It’s okay. She’s not here.”

I don’t even know if what my mom said calmed or disappointed me. Or how my older sister told her what happened last night. What was Gemma’s version of the story? Was she accurate?

Is her version of the story less painful than what really happened last night? If that’s the case, then I want her to retell the story to me; over and over again – just to test if it would hurt less, or if I’m lucky, it wouldn’t hurt that much.

I couldn’t believe it. That Jamie would agree to take part of a bet; that she actually thought of using me. I don’t know if that’s the right word, but that’s what I felt. I felt used. I felt… betrayed.

But somewhere, deep down inside of me, I couldn’t care less. I don’t care if she used me. But then there’s another part; a huge portion in my brain, thinking about her touch, then her laughter, her smile, her words, her kindness. Was everything just an act? Were her actions an ordeal of the said bet intended for me? If they weren’t true, then I might go insanely ballistic.

I didn’t regard my feelings before. But those traits – those were just some of the things I’ve crafted from afar, when she wasn’t looking. Those were some of the things that made me love her. And if they were all a lie, then what could I hold on to?

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Day Four

“Dad’s asking for you.” Gemma stared at me blankly, handing me the telephone. I shook my head, pushing the phone away from me with my hand.

“He wants to talk to you, Marcel.” Gemma rolled her eyes, but eventually gave up handing me the phone. This is one of the perks I have with her and mom because of what happened that night. My mouth tried to snicker, but failed.

“Yeah, dad? He’s sleeping in his room, so, you can maybe call us back later or tomorrow?” Gemma ran a hand on her brown hair.

“Yes, I know, daddy. He has gone through a lot…” I shrugged at that. Me? The three of us, we, have gone through a lot. We have gone through a lot without him!