~Ellie’s pov~
“Listen I don’t want to fight. I’m here to let the head know that I can’t come anymore. Just go Georgia. What’s the point in a never ending fight? No one is winning, no one is losing. I’m happy okay…I have a loving husband and a child on the way. I’m sorry, just go,” I was sick and tired of her constant bullying and I needed to keep calm. My memory was now fully returned. I just had a trauma attack and, as learned in my senior school, the memory loss only last for half an hour. But I had my Marcel and family plus friends. They were all I needed or wanted. I clasped Marcel’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. A spark of ecstatic love sparking across his face.
“I’m so dearly sorry to hear that. I must admit he’s cute, obviously too good for the likes of you. Better for me, I say you’re mine Marcel…” she pouted her lips and made her eyes water so they twinkled in the light. I took a deep and frightened gaze at my beloved ones face. It was gawking at her with disgust; he had taken a few large steps backwards.
“What part of the fact that I’m married don’t you understand? For one your face is so plastered in those chemicals that that not even a drill can make it to your inner face. I’m in love with Ellie; I wouldn’t date you if my life depended on it. Just leave us alone, whatever your name is,” it touched my heart. I felt so much more loved and my passion to be with him had then grown to never leaving. Marcel stretched out a one of his long arms and tucked a strand of my short hair behind one of my miniature ears. “Come on, let’s go,” he murmured under his breath before quarter turning to the right and taking a few large steps away from us.
“All you have to do is try Georgia. Actually wait until that perfect someone comes. And take off the make-up. You’re perfect the way you are. Be the better you,” I advised her before following after Marcel.
* * *
After a couple of hours of being sick and sleeping my phone began to vibrate against the painted white kitchen table. The number was labeled as Unknown which gave me intense curiosity. I answered after the third ring. “Talk to me,” I didn’t wish to sound rude, or polite.
“Hello is this Ellie?” a familiar chirp buzzed from the device.
“Who is asking? If this is a prank or something I’m not in the mood,” I replied bluntly, a frown taking place of my lips.
“It’s Georgia, AKA Barbie, I called to thank you.” Georgia, thanking me? It was a confusing reply to my depressing words. I stood up from the wooden stool and poured myself a glass of icy water. Once taken a large gulp to erase most of the taste of vomit I set the half empty cup down and thought carefully of my next words.
“Why would you thank me? It interests me in a lot of ways of how a girl like you would do such kindness to a woman like me.” The words flowed out harsher than I intended.
“Do you remember earlier?” everything clicked into place then, had she taken my advice? “I listened and learned. I took off most of my make-up and replaced my skin tight dresses and thongs for normal underwear and shorts and a normal top. It’s was mad at first but I got to know this boy and he is wonderful. Maybe he could be the one,” I was stunned to the bone. Georgia having a true relationship was out of the world. Truly a miracle, a gift from God.
* * *
“I love you; I never want to let you go. Allow me to show you my love,” Marcel was pleading for no reason. I would give in to his velvet voice; stunning eyes; silky lips…
“I love you too; I never wish to let you got either and fine. You don’t have to ask, just kiss me,” I replied, bending one of my knees so my hip was push slightly to the side. I glared at him while taking delicate bounces towards my husband. “Boyfriend, Fiancé and now…husband,” I whispered in a sticky tone before connecting our lips. I had been researching about cancer in my bed room before and then Marcel had hovered by the door for a while. After a certain amount of seconds or minutes he had began pleading and…you know the rest.
Marcel hadn’t taken any of my clothes off yet, which was surprising for by now we were usually undressed. I understood perfectly, he was taking it slow, making it special. My hands had roamed all over his body and tugged at his shirt, wanting it off. “Patience,” he whispered and gazed at me through his thick and long lashes, giving me the shivers all the way up my spine. If I couldn’t have his top off then I would give him more love in a different way. I tied my legs around his bulky waist and hauled myself upon him. Pulling his face closer to mine with one hand. His hair was supple and delicate between my fingers. I was full of joy already and we were still fully dressed.
Our lips were still moving in synchronization, tongues dancing to the jive and my teeth were chattering with excitement. I pulled back for air but placed out heads together for the touch of love to continue running through our system. I slowly untied my legs from his waist and jumped down onto the fluffy cream carpet with one quick movement. I held his shirt with one fist and pulled him towards the best, giving him my most seductive glare all the time. The need to have him was murderous and it was succeeding on the pain.
“My patience sucks, I can’t wait much longer,” intensity flowed through my tone and with one swift tug; Marcel was collapsed on the bed. I giggled and climbed on top of him. The mattress deepened as I pinned his hands against a pillow. I gave him a little teasing peck underneath his ear but unbuttoning the first couple buttons of his shirt, stoking my palm against the revealing skin. I hovered over him before clutching onto his chest and rolling over. Marcel was then on top of me so he could work on my body.
He grinned at my generosity. Marcel slid his hand all the way down my body until reaching the end of my dress. He then revved his hand up my thigh and under the loose clothing. I tickled which caused me to burst out in sudden hysterics. Marcel cocked an eyebrow but pushed it to the side and continued. “Ah, ha,” he breathed once he had stuck gold. Marcel had reached my underwear, the lacy fabric-covering as much as possible-did nothing for his strength.
“My favorite,” I whined but it was too late. I shook my head at him a pulled Marcel closer to me. His body heat burned against my skin yet it felt unreal. I stared into his beautiful green eyes and the urge to kiss him was impossible to resist. I slowly edged towards him, our lips then millimeters apart. His heavy breaths pouring upon my face. My chest getting higher by the second that he wasn’t kissing me. I clang onto the soft duvet with my nails. I couldn’t wait any longer, I pushed myself upon him and our lips caressed. His tender beauty responded at once; his hands yanked at my summer dress. I pulled the arm holders down my shoulders and untucked my arms-so he could pull it off. Although he left it on, I still unbuttoned his shirt all the way but he left it too. I would have to wait.
It had been only five minutes before I got fed up. “Please just hurry up, you’re killing me, killing me!” I pleaded but Marcel stayed firm.
“Patience my girl. Just wait,” his voice gave my shivers they way he practically sang it to my joy. All the same, he unbuckled his trousers but I practically yanked a little too hard for him. I say practically, the urge for him was so strong that he gave a little yelp. I kissed him on the cheek for the apologizing. Marcel gently pulled my dress down to my feet and kissed each of my breasts. All my body was then, except for my bra and Marcel was only in his boxer shorts. This was not the first time he had seen me this way yet I still felt embarrassed when he licked his lips at grinned at me. When he smiled Marcel revealed a set of perfect white teeth.
It was like a wrestling match, Marcel wanting to keep it slow yet I wished for him and fast. My fingers gripping to his shoulders while his thumb traced my lips. Marcel then pulled me up a little, all the time he eyes stuck on mine. He gradually undid my plain white padded bra and chucked it over his shoulder. He inhaled through his nose, his nostrils flaring at the time. I closed my eyes and sudden flashing images of everything appeared. Me as a little girl with my earphones in and mouthing all the words in perfect timing; my first day in a senior school-which went more or less okay; the first day I’d seen Marcel and fell in love; our first making love session; the day Marcel proposed and I told him I was pregnant; our wedding day. Soon the pictures faded and I was left in darkness that gave me an uneasy feeling so I opened my eyes. It turned out Marcel had taken off his boxers and we were both stark naked. He looked…delicious?
The temptation had taken over my body. I swung myself at him with no actual knowing of what I was doing. Tingles flew up my arms and legs when our body connected. I swallowed a moan of delight before kissing his cheek. It must’ve been a sign for Marcel just slid his shaft into me. Stinging, lots of burning around my area but I didn’t pay any attention. I was concentrating on the new love bite Marcel was placing on my collar bone. My face was buried in his thick curls which were so soft and silky upon his head.
It felt so good to have him in me that I needed to pull of grip something. I couldn’t pull his hair from my face was covering most of it so I decided to grip at my own. I suddenly felt so sorry to Marcel. With the strength I had tugged at my own, it hurt so I must have been a mean experience for him. I mumbled that I was so sorry for pulling his hair and he laughed huskily.
~Penelope’s pov~
The boy that I loved was busy in the kitchen. I had taken the opportunity to sneak up on him and see what he was up to. Zayn was on the phone and he sounded worried. “Listen okay; she is nothing, a distraction. She can’t compare to Perrie. Second place. If Penelope isn’t good enough then you aren’t either. Last time was the end of us. I’m taking a break from girls and going to…somewhere. To actually get a life. Just get yourself one too. Okay, bye,” tears filled my eyes and, before I actually could understand what I was doing, I was at the door in a fit of sobs. Once I had managed to open the door Zayn had his arms around my waist and wouldn’t let go. I elbowed him as hard as possible in the chest and he pulled away and yelped. I took the chance and sprinted out the door, slamming it shut behind me.
I yanked out my phone from my cardigan but my eyes were too filled with tears to see the contacts. Still, I flicked through but accidently went too far. Reaching the bottom and seeing Zayn’s name and number. Rage filled my blood and I threw it on the ground. I watched as it smashed into pieces and jumped back a few inches.
I didn’t know where to go so I just kept on running down the road. The further I got the more familiar everything came. I could see Ellie’s house a couple blocks away. I hoped she wouldn’t mind me coming in like this. My feet rubbed in the small converses and my hair had fallen out of place and was flying around my face, enabling me to see. I pulled the stands out of my eyes and continued the race for Ellie. When I arrived I pounded on the door with my fists and screamed/sobbed at the same time.
My hands throbbed and where crimson; my throat felt raw because I had screamed so hard. I collapsed onto the pavement and ran my fingers through my knotted hair. Fresh tears rimmed my eye line and soon spilled over. Ellie must’ve been out for no one answered my despairing screams. I waited for someone to come and see me, but the neighbor hood seemed empty. I said empty but I spotted people peeing out the curtain and staring at me like I was some freak. I felt so upset and angry; exactly how I felt the day I died. Then, I remembered something I had done when I saw her body.
The murder weapon, a gun, was left in her hands to make it look suicidal. When no one was looking I had hid the gun in my bag-the bag which I had with me now. I took it out of the cream purse and held the light weight thing between my palms. It felt so cold and sticky from the rotten blood. Abruptly, I heard someone’s heavy footsteps and puffing. I looked up and it was Zayn stopping in front of me. He gazed at the gun a horror spread across his face.
“I took it when Perrie got shot, so no one else could kill with it,” I explained before adding, “but get so much a millimeter closer and I’ll shoot you down,” it blistered as the words came out my mouth. I swung the bag over my shoulder and stood up, aiming the gun at his chest. I couldn’t and wouldn’t control my actions to him. My heart melted at the sight of his face though and I knew that if I shot him, I would shoot myself too. Before I could do anything else flashing lights raced down the street with an ear piercing siren. I stopped in front of us and a young woman stepped out.
“Would you like to drop the gun ma’am?” her voice was gentle towards me so I nodded my head. I dropped it to the floor and she got closer to me. “I am arresting you on suspicion of gun handling. You do not need to say anything to follow me and we’ll take you down for a statement,” I sighed and followed the woman with brown hair.
At the station I was taken for a word with the councilor. He asked me questions but some I refused to reply.
“Okay, so Penelope, why did you have the gun, tell me the story,” answer with the truth, my inner subconscious told me.
“My sister got shot, with this gun and it was left in her hand. When I found her I…took the weapon so no one else would kill with it. Earlier on I found out my boyfriend was using me and I got upset. So I ran and went to my friends but she wasn’t home…and then I took out the gun for I was really frightened. I heard some steps and more or less aimed the thing at him, my boyfriend, but I knew I couldn’t shoot him. And that’s when the police came and took me away,” he shot me a sympathetic look before taking some notes. I could just about see what he was writing,
Action taken out on feelings, innocent but may need eight sessions of therapy.
I didn’t like that sentence so I took a sip of my latté as a distraction. I burned my tongue but I held in the cough. The man, whose name was Robbo, looked up from his clip bored and moved closer to me. “It seems that you had a very hard day, from the looks of it you seem to be bailed but as charge you must have eight weeks of therapy. What day is best for you?” the police had taken my bag away and it had my diary which on the way to the station I had crossed out Zayn’s name and wrote ‘heart breaking git’ underneath.
“Usually I’m busy every day except Monday,” it was a lie; I’m free every day except Monday. The day I was meant to leave to go on a holiday to Paris with Zayn.
“Perfect. I will see you next week then. Thank you for your time. You may leave,” with that, Robbo stood up and left without as much as a backwards glance. I sat on the uncomfortable chair feeling like a baby, not knowing what to do.
Eventually I made the decision to walk out of the room for it seemed to have got smaller around me and I was awfully claustrophobic. How was I going to get home? When I stepped out of the heated and ever petite room I regretted so much as standing up. Nausea circled my system and everywhere was spinning. “I just need to get some support,” I told myself but taking one foot off the ground was a mistake. I couldn’t see right for the room was blurring and my throat suddenly felt blocked. Swallow you moron! Swallow and talk to the lady at the desk! My inner demon demanded but I was confused to which direction she was talking about.
I stumbled around, swallowing every five seconds. Everywhere started to clear up but my vision wasn’t completely perfect. Still my legs continued with their circling and I just watched them move. After five minutes I looked up and I was outside. I hadn’t noticed myself walk out of the door, or felt the chill of the wind. It seemed my eye sight had perfected itself, which was a shame at that moment. I searched the outside area and found a car which rang familiarity. Leaning on the outside of the vehicle was the user, heart breaker and cheater. Zayn Malik, with his charming smile; heart melting eyes; and sorrow filled body language. He stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact.
With confidence I walk up to him, glaring at Zayn the whole time. “What’s your excuse for earlier?” I asked my tone more gentle than I wished it to be. I wanted it to sound venomous not caring. Zayn looked up and into my eyes and my heart throbbed in my chest. I waited for a reply from him but he just stayed silent. Until I moved onto another foot. I saw his face change from calm to panic. Zayn sighed and eventually answered.