The Girl and Her Cat | Miraculous Ladybug One-Shots

17| Regrets

   There was a girl. A girl who sat at the back of the bus every day. She'd stare off into the distance. I'd often wonder what went through her head. She was stunning. Her hair a raven-blue and her eyes a magnificent bluebell. Her skin was pale and her cheeks were rosy. She was a complete and utter mystery. But I still fell for her.

   She'd usually appear with bruises painting her fair skin and on rare occasions crimson smeared from her nose or mouth. It made me nervous, but I didn't have the guts to talk to her. I didn't think it was any of my business.

   My friends would joke and kid with me, they said I was an idiot and a bit delusional. I didn't care, though. I still wanted her.

   'The girl' didn't  quite cut it. So I called her 'Ladybug'. A ladybug was the sign of good luck, and in this case, I needed a lot of it to gain her attention. 

   Ladybug always sat there at the back never glancing her eyes anywhere else but the window. She always had this faraway look twinkling in her eyes. She looked as though she had a secret that she didn't want anyone to know about. But I wanted to know. I wanted to be the one she shared all her secrets with. I wanted to be the one she trusted. But I couldn't.

   I loved her so much. But the more she distanced herself from everyone, the more my self-conscious dwindled. Her eyes changed in some way. They were more narrow. More forceful. More aggressive. She had pain in her eyes before, but now they had rage. I wanted to say something to her, but my nervous mind and buckling knees told me otherwise. The cuts and bruises covering her skin became deeper and more severe. She became a sickly pale and her stomach caved in, and all I could do in the situation was watch as her stare became cold and her figure became skin and bone.

   I'd decided I'd talk to her. Try to console her. Make a relationship between us. But that day never came.

   She didn't come the next day. Nor the next. It scared me. I wanted to know what had happened and why. Why did she not come? Why was she continuously bruised? Why did I not talk to her? These thoughts swirled around as I wasn't able to answer them.

   I tried asking around, but no one seemed to recall. No one recognised the poor girl who always straggled home with bruises that shaped her body. No one even noticed. 

   I tried to forget. But how could I?  Bitterness laced my mind. Pain lurked in my eyes. And shattered pieces of a heart resided in my chest. Once she was gone there was no one left, nothing left. 

   The only thing that remained was the regrets that never dwindled, was never forgotten, and always haunted me.  

   Those regrets drove me insane.

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   /A/N/ Yo... Umm, don't kill me.

   Okay, so this one-shot is a little different from the last couple (and by that I mean 17) I've been doing. It's in first person and was extremely hard to write. I'm very used to writing in third person, but I just felt like being a strange little potato and exploding your mind altogether. But if there is mistakes then please don't mind them, I just kept messing that up and putting 'he' instead of 'I'. Sorry...

   I have also noticed that I mostly only write, dare I say... Depressing stories. I know, shocker, but I am a very depressing person. I will turn the happiest thing ever (i.e. baby, grandma kittens) into a deep, pit of darkness and sorrows which you can never escape from and will forever remain with your dark past and regrets. Anyway, sorry about that... I will try to stop killing them, but then again, your reactions are very amusing. Me being a horrible, little author, I will crush your dreams and happiness in one fell swoop. Your fingers will snap from just furiously smashing your keyboard at speed-demon level writing one curse after the other.

   Anyways, I will try to quit it... Maybe.

   ~ Jay