I Just Wanna Run (Marcel Fanfic)

Marcel Styles;

school target,

bully magnet,

human punching bag.

And done with all of it.

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5. Chapter 5

I knocked on the cold, wooden door three times with a clenched fist. She was getting kind of old, so I waited patiently. The door creaked open and I put on my best smile. Her wrinkly little face lit up as she saw me. 

"Marcel, dear, please come in." She smiled, taking a few steps back.

"Thank you for letting me come over." I bent over to hug her. She was so fragile, so I wrapped my arms around her gently. 

"You are always welcome here, you know." The door shut behind us. She walked herself into the kitchen and I followed. "Can I get you anything?" 

"A glass of water would be delightful." I sat down at her little empty table. The flowers in the middle began to welt, but they were still a pretty color. It reminded me of spring, which seemed like years ago honestly. The weather was always cold and windy now, signaling the seasons change from fall to winter. 

She placed a little glass filled with water in front of me and took a seat. I sipped from the cup, still staring at the flowers that were slowly dying.

"Suppose I should throw those out, huh?" She chuckled lightly.

"I kinda like them like this." I placed my cup back on the table. "At least, keep them until all the petals have fallen off."

She didn't reply, but nodded instead. Her hands were placed on top of each other, while she impatiently played with her fingers. It almost felt awkward.

"How have you been?" She finally spoke.

"Good-"

"Marcel.." She interrupted me, knowing I would give her a fake answer. She noticed how my energy level had dropped a hundred times lower than what I used to have. She noticed how I was frowning more than smiling these days. She noticed the scars.

"I... I don't know. I've been okay." I shrugged. I didn't like telling her about my bruises or depressing thoughts. Or what happened earlier with the knife. 

"You can tell me, if you'd like." Her eyes were locked on mine, trying to tell me that it really was okay.

"It's just.... high school." Which really wasn't a lie at all. Because high school was a big part of my dark, dreary feelings. 

She sighed, looking down at her hands again. I had a feeling I wouldn't have to say any more because 'high school' was a pretty explanatory answer. In my case, it basically translated to 'living hell.' 

"You shouldn't have to go through all that." She spoke again. I nodded, feeling the same way. I didn't do anything to deserve this kind of treatment. I didn't deserve to be punished everyday. 

The house that used to bring me all sorts of joy, suddenly turned grey and dark. Here we used to laugh about the silly board games we played, or how my grandfather always cracked a joke at the right time. We could talk about the latest book I had read to the most exciting dream I'd had the night before. And now we were talking about how depressing my life had become. 

The slightly cracked window swung back and forth from the incoming wind, now being the loudest sound in the room. A petal from the vase of flowers I was admiring fell off and floated down to the table. It was welted and the edges were dark, but the middle still had a pinkish glow to it. Hope.

It had hope.

I had hope.

I sat up in my seat and stared at the little petal. It was rather small compared to the others, yet it stood out from the rest. The light from the window caught the middle of the flower, making it glow brighter and more beautiful. 

"Grandma," I whispered.

"Yes Marcel?" She asked, also in a whisper.

"Thank you."

 

<Author's Note: I know this one is kinda short, but big things coming up soon>

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