Mary-Jane Taylor

My mind was in complete bliss, as my thoughts were indulged within the book. It intrigued me; the well written plot, the specific detail and especially the portrayed characters. I placed the novel onto my lap, sighing with relief.


“Have you finished the chapter already?” I look up to see my mother, her right arm leaning against the frail door frame, a smug smirk playing at her lips. I proceed to give her a small smile, as she reciprocated the gesture.


“Yeah, well, I have to admit, it was one of the most relieving chapters I’ve read so far,” I reply with my honest opinion. My constructive criticism could’ve gone further, but I knew no one would want to know how I feel about the book.


“So, what is it about? I would love to know, since I paid for it,” my mother jokes. I give in a little laugh, closing the book, as she came to take a seat next to me on my bed.


“Well, the protagonist, Haley, is experiencing many issues in her life. Due to this, she attempts to reinvent her entire self. This concluded changing her choice in fashion, inhaling tobacco, sexual intercourse and many other disgusting things. This somehow made her popular, plus boy attention. That is what I’m up to currently.” My mother makes an interested face, causing me to smile at my choice of book.


“As long as it makes you happy; I’m happy.” She gives me a heart warming hug, followed by a small kiss on the cheek. My nose twitches at her chosen actions, as it’s always been a habit of mine. Whenever another touches my skin, my nose tingles and twitches.


After I watch the door close, with my mother on the opposing side, I reopen my novel, continuing to read on. I read a few lines of the upcoming chapter, but a certain quote catches my eye.


“Go to work, get married, have kids, pay your taxes, pay your bills, watch TV, follow fashion, act normal, obey the law and repeat after me; I am free.” The written quote I have never heard of before, quite intrigued me. It was different – relevant to all situations.


For an odd reason my breath started to hitch, a feeling in my throat made me constantly cough. I felt as though it was tightening, but it was only a false alarm. I don’t know why my asthma acts up at the most silent and - or difficult of times.


I swiped across the quote; making my sensitive fingertips, touch the textured page. A confused look crosses my face, as it felt softer than a usual novel page would. My curiosity made myself smudge again, the words starting the blur at the harsh action. I do the same gesture a couple of times until the words are completely gone and a new sentence is there – an address of some sort.


I shut the book as fast as I can, just before I could take my curiosity level any higher. My heavy breathing filled the empty room; cracks were zigzagged across the four plain walls that surrounded my sanctuary. A sudden feeling of emptiness had struck my stomach along with a sickening feeling.


“Mary-Jane? Are you alright?” I hear my mother call from downstairs. I shout a positive lie, so she could hear from downstairs. My voice probably sounded like my mind was in another place, even though it is.


Where would this address take me anyway? Why would it be in a novel like so? How am I the only person who realized this? Different questions unravelled as my mind kept thinking continuously. I didn’t want to think anymore. My last question is; why am I so afraid?


I shake the thought out of my head, placing the book carefully on my desk. Running downstairs, I find my mother cooking on the stove. I smell the aroma of vegetables and some sort of main course, making me instantly feel hungry. I suddenly get snapped out of my daze, as I hear loud, pumping music from next door.


“Mary, it’s Friday night, why aren’t you ever at parties like that? Not that I’m forcing you, I’m just curious,” my mother asks. I shrug my shoulders plainly, in response to her question. Nobody’s ever invited me to a party. Probably because of my introverted personality, and myself for being always so... isolated.


“Parties include intoxicating yourself along with sexual intercourse at the most. I’d prefer not to go to a party like so,” I confess truthfully. My honest opinion on parties would be that exact sentence.


“It’s not as bad as the 60’s parties though, we had the craziest parties! Even tobacco and unrevealed drugs were there.” I look up at my mother as she says 60’s parties. “You’re just born in the 70’s mum. I added it up,” I say.


“How did you add that up so fast?” She asks in complete amazement. I shrug my shoulders, but still reply with a worded sentence afterwards. I was interrupted during my simple additions, but my mother could still hear me throughout the music and squeals.


“I think I might pass on dinner,” I say after a while. My stomach has been aching since I got home from school. The bus ride home was absolute torment; I had isolated myself in the front seat of the bus, reading my current novel. I couldn’t stand to talk to people at the back of the bus. I found it meaningless in various ways.


“You never miss out on dinner, why tonight?” I didn’t have a prepared response to tell her; I didn’t know what to say, let alone.


“I’m just not hungry,” I reply carefully. I hear her sigh heavily, returning to her cooking. I walk up the stairs pre-cautiously, my actions slowly revolving around my nervous system – not literally though.


“Night mum.”


~*~


My eyes slowly fluttered open due to the rays of sunlight, beaming through the curtains. My chest rose slowly and dropped back down to a rhythm. The buzzing of my alarm was definite, but why was it ringing on a Saturday morning?


“Mum?” I call out quickly. No reply. I silently mutter to myself, getting out of my comfortable bed. I slip my bare feet into the small slippers at the side of my bed. My eyes were falling together due to lack of sleep... my sleeping patterns have been terrible these last few days.


I jumped at the fierce tone of my mobile phone, causing me to place my hand at my chest, right where my heart is. I quickly walk to it, picking it up and holding it to my ear. It was my mother.


“Honey? Mary are you at home?” I hear her hurried and worried tone of voice through the phone. I heard a few crackling noises, meaning the connections are terrible at the moment.


“Yes, why?” I ask. By this moment, I could tell something was wrong. I didn’t know what it was, but I am sure to find out. Why would my mother be calling at this time on Saturday morning? Where is she?


I couldn’t make out the next few words she sputtered out, but I instantly threw my phone on my bed, as the connection was lost. What is going on?


“Mary-Jane!”

Notes

Hey Guys!
I hope you like this shitty AU, its dark as well!
A Dark AU c:
please leave a vote, comment, subscribe, or whatever you do, if you did like this chapter!