I Just Wanna Run (Marcel Fanfic)

Marcel Styles;

school target,

bully magnet,

human punching bag.

And done with all of it.


1. Chapter 1

I felt another fist drastically make contact with my stomach. I squeezed my eyes shut and hunched over, clutching my stomach. My thick glasses slid off my nose and hit the ground with a sharp drop. By this time I was pretty much numb to the pain. Although, I still keep hoping it will stop. Once again, I was cornered in the school hallway, with 2 guys towering over me. No one would stop them. No one would help me. All they could do was pass by and pretend they didn't see me. 

It was becoming more of a routine actually. I was caught alone in the hallway, or anywhere for that matter, and I was immediately the prey to the predators. I wasn't fast enough to run. And I certainly wasn't smart enough to hide. They could find me anywhere. I basically set my own trap. Each day they would find a new way to beat me. Whether it was a kick to the stomach, or making me trip in class. No matter what it was, it still hurt. I used to hide in the janitor's closet and bawl my eyes out until after school got out.  School was the worst part of my day. But none of that mattered when I got home. It was the only place I felt safe. Even if it was just my mom and I. Unfortunately, I would wake up the next day and return to school. Or as I liked to call it, hell.  

I swore to myself I would never show her how much pain I was in at school. The bruises, the scars, the wounds. I always came up with excuses to why my glasses broke or how I got bruises on my arms. Classic Marcel, I would say, always being a klutz. Luckily, she seemed to fall for it each time. My mother was already dealing with enough stress herself, trying to pay the bills and keep us living healthily. She worked late night shifts at the hospital and that paycheck barely scavenged us enough food for the week plus all the money towards the house payments. Lately she's been searching for a second job that pays a little more but no one has been accepting her applications. It's hard on me sometimes, being with myself more than with my own mother. But she only does it for us. And it took me a while to realize that.

Once they got tired of beating me up, I carefully bent over and picked up my glasses. There were only a few scratches. I put the glasses up to my mouth and breathed out on the lenses to fog them up. Then I grabbed the end of my vest and wiped the glass off. There, back to normal. I walked away like nothing happened. But I know I was just lying to myself.

I didn't really have any friends to walk home with or talk to during passing time. There were a few people who agreed to be my partner in class, but later on I figured out they just wanted to make me do all the work so they could get an A. I avoided those people as much as possible now. I cautiously walked home, watching my back and peeking around every corner I turned. A few buses drove by and some kids threw water bottles and crumpled papers at me out the window. I flinched at one hitting my head but kept walking, staring at the ground. Today I decided to take a short cut through a little patch of forest. If this is what it took to get home unharmed, then it would be the only way to get to and from school. 

When I got home, I used my key to unlock the back door and set my backpack on the washing machine. The house was silent, as usual. As I walked into the kitchen, the floorboards creaked  underneath my feet. I selected a delicious, red apple from the basket on the counter, rubbed it on my shirt and took a large bite out of it. A note hung from a magnet on the fridge and I read it as I walked up to it.


I won't be home until around 5 so feel free to grab a snack and do whatever you need to do. I left some leftovers in the fridge for dinner. Eat those if you need. 



I assumed my mom was at another job interview, so I quickly ran up to the bathroom to shower and look presentable. 

I ran the hot water and the room immediately filled with steam. I sighed, sliding all my clothes off and slipping into the hot shower. It was nice to just stand there and forget about everything. Forget about school. All the scars. All the stress. I ran my fingers through my hair, rinsing out the shampoo and soapy water. When I was done, I shut off the water and grabbed my towel. I wrapped it around my waist and stepped out of the shower. I glanced at myself in the mirror and winced at all the bruises. There was a fresh one right in the middle of my stomach and it hurt when I brushed my fingertips against it. I turned around and got dressed, making sure I couldn't catch another glimpse of my reflection. When I was fully clothed again, I slid my glasses back on and smoothed my curly hair back with a comb. A noise, sounding like a door closing, came from downstairs. My mom was home, I assumed. A smile grew at the corner of my lips as I exited the bathroom. 

I ran downstairs, skipping steps on my way. My mom was sitting at the counter, reading the newspaper. She must've heard me walk in because she looked up from her paper and smiled at me.

"Marcel!" She shut the pages of the paper. "How was your day, honey?"

"Normal, I guess." I put on a smile for her. 

"Nothing new?" She crossed her legs under the countertop.

"Nothing new." I repeated, opening the fridge.

"Did you eat yet?"

"No, I was just looking for something small." I shrugged.

"How about we just heat up the casserole?" She suggested, walking over next to me.

I paused, thinking it over. "Okay, sure."

"Why don't you just grab it from the bottom shelf and I'll dish it up."

I bent over but immediately regretted it. My stomach ached in pain but I pretended like nothing was wrong. I bit my lip to keep from moaning and slowly pulled the casserole dish out from the shelf. It suddenly became three times heavier as I stood up and handed it to my mom.

"Marcel, is something wrong? Are you okay?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied through my teeth. "Why?"

"Nevermind." She paused and shook her head. "It should be ready in about 5 minutes."

I nodded and disappeared into the living room. When she could no longer hear me or see me, I leaned against the wall and took deep breaths, trying to rid the pain. It felt like a giant hole in my stomach, I couldn't transfer enough air to the rest of my body. I took one last deep breath and made my way back into the kitchen, ready to eat. 




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