Chapter 2 – Agony
Alya is giving her a horrified, almost smug look. Marinette can almost tell exactly what Alya is thinking, as if the very thoughts were put on display above her head for Marinette to read.
Marinette gives her a smug, questioning look in return, goading her into saying whatever it is that she desperately wants to.
"So, no more attempts to lie? You've just given in? Finally proved to all of us that we were right to trust Lila all along?" Alya spits, standing up from where she sat.
"The only one who's ever been lying is Lila, but I'm sick and tired of trying to knock some sense into your delusional brains. The lot of you are pathetic lemmings, incapable of thinking for yourselves and accepting Lila's lies as fucking gospel, like the morons you are. It's a hard truth, that you guys aren't interested in hearing, as you've proven. I hope you enjoy the ignorance while it lasts, four eyes." Marinette spat the last two words out like rotten food, knowing that that was where it was going to hurt Alya the most, in the ways Alya had hurt her.
Seeing Alya's face drop and contort into one of hurt, Marinette's heart lurched in her throat, forcing itself from her body, tearing open her throat with agonizing slowness.
Guilt.
Shame.
Horror.
Disgust.
Marinette was horrified with herself for hurling such an insult at Alya. While they'd still been friends, Alya had been open to Marinette about her insecurities, one of her largest ones being her glasses after the torment she'd suffered because of it.
Marinette tried to keep her face as an image of a person uncaring for the hurt caused, with a subtle joy for the harm, even though it killed her. It destroyed her. Completely. The guilt was threatening to tear her apart – shatter her so completely. But she couldn't let them see. She had to hold her composure, no matter how she desired to beg for forgiveness.
Maybe she wasn't cut out for this. But it was too late now. She just had to commit, and she'd be ok. She'd get the hang of it.
Her eyes found Adrien across the room, standing horrified and disappointed in the doorway. That was almost her undoing. Adrien. Seeing him so shocked. So gutted by what he'd just witnessed.
She just stared him down. Unwavering. Calm. Collected.
Destroyed.
Ms Bustier walked in before more could happen, Marinette letting out a sigh of relief, mentally, as she was allowed to relax.
Or so she thought.
"Marinette, Lila, I'll need you both to come with me to Mr Damocles, please." She said simply, standing in front of the room with her hands held together in front of her body.
Marinette said nothing as she walked from the room, walking next to Lila beside their teacher.
"Well, well, well. What's this? I win. How lovely." Lila snickered, leaning over to whisper in Marinette's ear.
"Yeah, sure you've won. Only, you have no power over me now, Lila. Your words don't hold any kind of power. Whatever you say from here will only make it all worse for you." Marinette shrugged, trying to walk forward before Lila grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"Maybe, but I'm sure that my actions still have power, hm?" Marinette looked at her confused, only realizing what was happening a second before it was about to happen. Lila raised Marinette's wrist which she still held in a strong grasp, drawing it back and slapping it across her own cheek, leaving an already reddening mark across her cheek.
Lila burst into what could only be practiced tears, helped with a natural reaction to the sharp sting of the slap.
Ms Bustier whirled on them, Lila sobbing. "Marinette, why are you doing this to me? Death threats weren't enough? All I've ever wanted is to be your friend, and you treat me like this?" Ms Bustier hugged Lila, and all Marinette could do was stare helpless as everything crumbled.
Suspended.
Suspended for 2 weeks.
The punishment could have been a lot worse, she knew that, and for that she was at least thankful.
Her parents had been aware of the situation, so she wasn't in trouble at least. They were going to do what they could to sort it out, but they were away at an annual baking competition for the next 2 weeks anyway, so they couldn't do much anyway. They would at least be calling the school.
She hadn't even lasted half an hour at school before being sent home. It truly was disheartening. She'd just gotten started on her revenge, and already she was facing 2 road bumps. At least it gave her an opportunity to process.
It was lunch now, so people had started harassing her, since they'd definitely heard about the slap. Great.
She ignored them all, unable to open them beyond looking at what little popped up onto her phone screen.
It was agony. Pure, excruciating agony.
The guilt from what she'd done coupled with everything else surrounded with Lila was going to absolutely destroy her.
Her heart was tearing out of her chest, leaving it in its wake a gaping black hole that continued to tear open her chest.
She scratched at her chest, trying in desperate fervor to hold herself together. But the hole kept growing. And growing.
It was torture. Marinette was in a state of pure distress. God, she hurt so bad. She needed it to stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
"STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" She screamed, her voice sounding strange and warped, echoing all around her, everything spinning.
She didn't realize she'd collapsed until her tear-filled eyes saw the blurred image of black scissors, laid scattered on the floor from late night designing the night before.
Please. It was worth a shot. She had to try.
It had to work.
The pain came to unabrupt stop, the hole no longer expanding as the blood dripped from her wrist to the floor, the pain now in her wrist in a way that was now bearable and less like pain, more like absolute ecstasy. She was ok now.
So she did it again.
And again.
Again.
Again
Again
Until she lost count and her wrist was made slick with red blood, completely covered.
She was barely aware of her window smashing, the sound of shattering glass registering in her mind but not realizing or paying attention to it.
But then...
Cool leather wrapped itself around her overheated, trembling form, while another leather clad hand taking her scissors and throwing them away.
She cried out, terrified. She needed those scissors. She needed them! She couldn't let the hole open up again, she'd just gotten it closed.
She lunged for them, scrambling to get back to them, only to be terrifyingly pulled back onto someone's lap, black leather in front of her face as she was made to lean into someone's chest.
Chat.