Mocked: A Marcel Fanfic

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen



I get off the floor stunned that everything ended like this. The fun Veronica and I were having? The party she took me to? Didn't any of them count for something? Why does it feel like the inside of my stomach is completely hollow even after I've eaten plates of food?

I don't know any of these answers as I walk out of Veronica's house. Once outside, I wave down a man and jogs over to me. I eye the radio hooked up to his clothes.

"What can I do for you, kid?" He asks in a rush.

"My car please," I tell him, feeling emotionless. The man just gives me a once over and shakes his head.

"Veronica is at it again," he mutters before jogging off again, telling me he'll be right back with my car.

What does he mean "again"?

I choose not to care about another question that has been added to the pile of mystery. The man brings my car and I leave the house grounds, not looking back at all. There's something inside of me that just hurts, and I have no idea how to handle it.

How could I be so stupid? This past week isn't me! I don't go to beaches or parties or drink alcohol. These clothes aren't even mine! They're like a mask, hiding my true self away from people. It's a costume, just like the pathetic decoration I've got my car covered with.

I let out an involuntary sob and pull over to the side of the road. I punch the steering wheel, something I've never used my fist for, and cry out about how unfair my life is. The only thing I wanted was to be accepted by one person. One person in this whole world that would accept me for me! And I stupidly thought that person was Veronica.

But I'm mistaken. I'm just a pathetic piece of shit with no chance with anyone.

I throw open my car door and get out, feeling the urge in my body to just stretch out. I grab my hair that is a destroyed mess on my head. I scream and kick at my tires, hating the way it hurts me just to do it. I'm weak. I'm useless.

I glare at the batman contraption covering my car. It's ridiculous. A growl emits from me and I start tearing it away, pulling away the pieces and throwing them on to the floor. This shit is pointless too! It needs to be stripped down and changed to look exactly how it should in order to fit in.

The work from taking it all off leaves me panting, but also relieved. It's like a weight off my chest has been uplifted. I heave, taking in deep breaths as I stare at the mess I've created.

I can't leave this out here, I think to myself.

I open my back door and throw in the debris. I'll dispose of it at a dumpster. I can't just leave it on the road.

With a new feeling of relief, I get back in my car and drive home. I know I'm about to face the biggest hell so I steady myself. I keep breathing, slow and steady, so slow. I keep this clearheaded mind as I pull up to my house.

"This is it," I whisper as I shut off my car. I know Mother is home as her car is parked beside mine. I can almost imagine her running out of the house and screaming at me.

I shut my eyes and breathe in again. "Remember to breathe," I tell myself.

I am ready.

I walk with caution towards my house and enter in quietly. My heart is racing in my chest, pounding so loudly that I fear it alone will call for Mother's attention. I shut the front door behind me and lean against it. I can hear the tv in the living room on. I take in another deep breathe and walk inside.

The stairs are ahead of me and I want nothing more than to run up them and hide, but in order to get there I have to pass the living room. Mother will see me.

My heart drops when she steps in front of me, her brown hair wild on her head, just like her eyes that are set on mine. I suck in a deep breath, fear radiating throughout my body. I feel the need to run.

"Where. Have. You. Been," she seethes. It's not a question.

"I-"

"You don't call. You don't drop by and tell me you're going out?! You actually WENT OUT?!" She yells at me and I back up towards the door. My headache is coming back. "And whose clothes are you wearing?! What the fuck have you done with your hair? Harry! You better start talking or so help me god, I will make sure you never see daylight outside of school."

I shrug, not knowing what to say. It's like all of energy to fight back is gone. "I'm sorry, Mother," I say with my head down. "I don't know what came over me."

"Damn right you don't know what came over you! Harry! What part of the world is cruel, don't you understand?! Can't you see I'm just trying to protect me from being hurt?!" Mother brings her hand to her chest. I want to believe the tears in her eyes show that she truly cares, but I've got a pounding headache that demands to be treated. And, honestly, I just don't care.

"I said I'm sorry," I tell her exhausted.

"Well sorry doesn't cut it, Harry! Why don't you fucking get it?! I can't lose you, okay. I just can't lose you." And suddenly, she's crying.

My eyes widen at my Mother who has always been that cruel person, the one who made rules against everything, start openly crying. Thoughts of how bad of a son I am come crawling through my head, eating away at me until I'm left with nothing more than an empty shell.

I deflate and go to my mother, wrapping her in my arms. She's the only constant in my life. A bad constant at times, but still a constant. I rub her arms and kiss the top of her head.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I whisper, hugging her close.

"I keep thinking that you'll leave, just like your father. That one day I'll push you too far and you'll just leave me," she sobs, her hands clutching me close to her.

I sigh and squeeze her close. "I'm not going anywhere," I mutter. Besides, it's not like I'd have anywhere else to go.

I hold her and let her cry into me. I feel like I'm failing her and that really hurts a bit of my self-esteem. But as we stand there, I don't find myself crying as well. My mother may have her wall down right now, but that doesn't change who she really is.

I can only take so much before I break.