It wasn't fair. They treated her like absolute dirt, and it wasn't fair. She tried so hard to fit in and, yet they looked at her as if she were yesterday's trash. It made her heart sink even lower to remember the look on his face. It was one of pure pity. Tears burned her eyes as she pulled her books closer to her chest.
Sitting alone didn't help much either, watching people converse with their friends while here she was with no friends. Every day it was the same. Every day she would sit at the same table, at the back, by the trashcans, and she would read whatever book she had that day. They would change often, and it wouldn't be normal for her not to have a book. They were the only sense of socializing she came to because no one ever bothers to talk to her. And as long as she had been there nobody has ever approached her or wanted to be her friend. They all avoided her like some kind of disease.
She hated it.
She hated every moment that she sat alone. She never opened her mouth to speak, she never participated in class, and she would work alone because that's what everyone else preferred. And the event that happened earlier didn't make it any better.
In class the teacher, Miss. Bustier, had assigned a class project. They were assigned partners. It wasn't that Marinette was scared, she was ready for partners. She was ready for anything at that moment that had to do with being social, but a popular girl, Chloé Bourgeois, had decided that Marinette wasn't good enough to be partners with her. Being the Mayor's daughter helped Chloé get what she wanted a lot of the time; threatening to fire one of the teachers with one simple phone call. It was bad to put this much power into a single child, especially if that child is a bratty one.
Miss. Bustier yelled at Chloé to stop being so rude, but she didn't listen. "No, I want to be paired with either my Adrikins or Alya. Not that girl. I don't think she can even speak." Chloé had pointed at the back row where Marinette sat, and suddenly all eyes were on Marinette. She had said it with so much ice in her voice, Marinette was sure that they would need to send her to a desert of some sort to thaw her out. Little by little she shrunk down in her seat, not wanting to be thrown into a situation that wasn't her fault.
The teacher sighed as she placed her palm on her forehead as if to stop a sudden headache forming, "Marinette, do you mind working the project by yourself?" Marinette nodded; afraid her voice would sound as if she had been stabbed. "Fine, Chloé. You can pair up with Rose and Alya. Marinette, I'm…" she trailed off. Miss. Bustier said no more.
Marinette felt a pain in her chest as she sat there the remainder of class twiddling her thumbs, not glancing up, as the class rained in silence. She didn't have to look up to know they pitied her. They all regret not standing up for her, they regret not talking to her, not even saying 'good morning' or a simple 'hello.' They regretted every last breath that was not wasted upon her.
And yet they could not own up to their mistakes.
They could not see the pain inside her sad bluebell eyes, the arch in her back; carrying all that sadness on her back like a 100 ton weight. It was all too much for her too handle.
Marinette told herself not to look, but in all curiosity, she did. Frightened and curious, her eyes looked through her lashes, as if it were a giant wall she was peeking over, and she saw his face. His face was full of pity. The pity she didn't want. She looked back down, sad and furious that he was giving her that look. She pushed up her glasses and wiped her tears away.
In a way, she hated him.
In a way, she hated them all.
The more they pitied her, the more they killed her. Their looks of pity sliced through her leaving slash marks, letting the blood flow from the wounds. Their silence suffocated her, leaving her lungs starving for air, it left her bruised and broken. She always thought that one day the police force would come and arrest everybody for having the chance to kill her over and over again. They didn't even realize they have committed a murder. Over and over again. She couldn't even pick up her book and read to lose herself, and eventually she left the lunchroom. With her head down, they stared at her as she walked past, quieting down until she was officially gone.
Marinette wanted something to happen.
Marinette wanted something exciting.
Marinette just wanted this day to be over, and thankfully she got her wish.
