Type: Depression • Word Count: 1675 • Genre: Sad
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(Y/N) = Your Name (Y/H/T) = Your Hair Type (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color
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Requested by: _ScarlettReaper_
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Third Person P.O.V.You stormed down the sidewalk, tears blurring your eyes. You were tired of him. You were tired of everyone. You were tired of being treated like crap and then be expected to be ok with it. You had had enough.
You didn't know exactly where you were going, nor did you care. You wanted to walk until you found the ends of the earth, then maybe there you could find some solace.
As of late, you felt so alone. The Davenports were busy with missions, creating new technology, and well in short, saving the world. You loved the Davenports like family, but you had put some distance between you and them. You really didn't know why. Maybe it was to protect yourself. You had never had anyone like them before. It was just when you were around them you felt, useless. They helped people and did something with their lives, while you struggled to pass algebra. Normally you tried to ignore this feeling, but sometimes you couldn't. Even Leo seemed to be of more use than you.
You slowed down, pausing for a moment. You wiped your eyes with your sleeves. "Hey (Y/N), " said a deep voice
You looked up, startled. It was Marcus. Of all people. You didn't want to see him. You knew exactly what he wanted-the Davenports- and you wouldn't give them to him.
"Go away," you growl crossing your sleeved arms around your stomach. "Why? You think you could really make me?" he scoffed. "Marcus, I don't want to see you right now. Please leave me," you say trying to walk past him, he stopped you. You knew it was futile to fight, he was bionic and could snap you in half if he really wanted.
"Marcus I'm not helping you. The Davenports have been good to me and I am not about to-" Marcus interrupted you, "You really think you are as good as them? You think you're better?" he spat.
Your (Y/E/C) eyes watered. Not today, you think, please not today.
"You think the Davenports really need you? They're being nice. They're handing out charity. Do you think they would really be your friends if it wasn't for the starry-eyed puppy-dog love look Chase gives you? You really think they want you around? I don't think so. They use you as an outlet. You are their link to the outside world. Haven't you noticed they don't call you as of late?"
"They're busy, Marcus, they have a world to protect-"
"You tell yourself that, Princess, deny the truth. If they're so busy, how come I have so much time to spend with them? You can lie to yourself all you want, but I will always remind you what you really are." he crooned tipping your chin up. "You are a thorn in their side, and you drag them down. You limit them, and they have no room to reach their full potential. You mean nothing to them."
You turned your face away tearfully.
Because he was right.
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Since your encounter with Marcus, You had avoided the Davenports religiously for a while. You hated to see Chase in the hallways of the school. It tore at you, gnawed at your heart. He would glance in your direction, and you wanted to melt. But you quickly iced up remembering it was for the better.
So when Tasha begged you to help her organize her sewing room it caught you off-guard, and she did not give you a chance to say no.
You let yourself inside the mansion. It felt like an old dream. You missed being here, but it wasn't the place as much as the people.
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