A/N: Something different today, after every few chapters a direct POV of a character will take place, today is…. Adrien's!
****Please note there are *mentions* of rape in this chapter.
… *** ...
You know, sometimes, I lock myself in my room. For days. I sit on the floor, in a dark corner of the bathroom…and I think.
I think about a whole lot of things actually. I think about mum.I wonder what dad is doing. And most of the time, I think about how disgusting I am.
I think about Chloe, and her 'needs'. I think about how pathetic I am that I can't say no , out of fear. Me. Adrien Agreste, Chat Noir. Afraid of a sadistic, plastic thing.
It's actually quite hilarious if you look at it. I could kill her. I could kill her so easily. Once slash across that skinny neck of hers and it would all be over. No more fear. No more self-loathing…
But then…Is it ever really that easy? The marks she's indented on me can't be removed. I am and forever will be disgusting. If I ever told anyone, they'd laugh and say that it was part of life to lose ones virginity.
Well. Imagine losing it at 12 because you broke your mother's jewellery piece which was your dad's most prized possession and you told your only friend who used the information against you because they had 'needs'. Imagine being forced to lie down by another 12-frigging-year old . Just for a damn second think about the treachery of this being done to you because you broke a stupid, bloody peacock brooch.
Imagine thinking maybe it's over now that it's done. Imagine the horror of it happening again. Imagine wondering why your sister wants that from you. Imagine realising that HA, she's not your friend, she's not your sister. You're her toy and she gets to use you.
Imagine getting older, and trying to make it stop and then being threatened to be accused of raping your friend if you ever said anything.
Imagine, that happening for 6 years. Can you imagine the fear of suddenly being told you're a father at 16? Can you imagine the agony of realising that you will finally be caught out? Imagine being ready to accept the consequences in order for the child to live? Can you imagine all at once being told that your baby, the baby of you who was also just a baby, was terminated because "Eww, no way! Can you imagine what that would do to my figure?". Imagine your horror realising that the thought of another pregnancy if she continued in this manner didn't affect her in the slightest, and being told that she could have as many abortions as she wanted. Imagine still trying to see the good in your friend because in the end it was their body that would be taken over. Imagine realising that that very friend was the one who took control of your own body? Imagine.
Can you imagine starving yourself, because your fathers line needed the perfect model, and who better than your father's son himself? Could you imagine seeing your body deteriorating. Imagine finally telling your dad that you will no longer follow that diet. Imagine secretly following it anyway to please him after you saw his look of utter disappointment. Imagine staying up, studying for your University FINALS at 16.
Imagine hoping to get some acknowledgment for your perfect score from your dad but being hauled away to your room for 'Celebratory sex' which really meant 'I'm bored,shag me and I won't tell daddy-dearest.'. And can you imagine crying yourself to sleep because you feel so pathetic and useless and vulnerable and ugly and stupid and controlled and your life is spiralling off into a never ending abyss of obsidian darkness. Imagine not telling anyone for years upon years. Imagine counting backwards from three billion every night as quick as you can because you had no more tears left to cry and thinking about anything other than the numbers hurt.
And it hurts because you are a complete and utter failure and there's no way out...
Yet somehow, You still have to be that perfect young man. You have to do all those extra-curricular activities, not including your friend's ones. You have to sit still, and look handsome, because this is what you have been bred to do. You have to pretend you're okay. You have to bite back the need to self-harm because if the world finds out your father will be ashamed. You have no real friends. Your father hates pets. If you saw a shrink your friend could twist the story. And it pierces your heart and twists like a dagger knowing that after everything they've done,after everything they have put you through, after the use and abuse, the downplay and shame, you still cling to the idea that somewhere deep inside them they genuinely care about you, and you know that you care about them but in all honesty you know that they don't care for you in the slightest because :
You.
Are.
Nothing.
Imagine growing up with everything, and having absolutely nothing. And then developing this strange and unhealthy obsession to protect your possessions like you should have protected your body all those years ago. Imagine that possessive nature clinging to you, because if you had nobody, then all the gizmos and gadgets were all you had,and you would care for them because they never hurt you.
Imagine getting jealous, and so angry that everyone, everyone but you could live normal, happy lives. Lives with love and friends. Lives with hope and meaning while you were just a sex toy and model. Imagine starting to hate yourself more and more, and then hating the world. How could they do this…How could they do this?
Imagine wanting them to feel it. The pain. The self-loathing. Imagine wanting the world to be as ugly as your soul. Imagine.
Imagine one day finding a box. A simple box containing a ring. A ring that made all the horrible things you wanted possible. After everything. After all of the shit. You had the chance to destroy the world, like it had done to you. Because every magazine they bought made your father keep you as a model. Because they were the ones who elected the Mayor and inherently gave superiority to his rotten daughter. Because they never ever stopped for a damn moment to ask you if you were okay.
So you tell me, please tell me. Am I wrong to be a monster?
Is it wrong to be this way. Is it wrong to be cruel? Is it wrong to go against Plagg who is the closest thing to a real father that I have despite his weirdness?Is it so bad that I enjoy seeing their blood after I shred them almost to death?Is it bad that I can't handle people looking into my eyes? Is it disgusting that I find pleasure in their fear. Is it awful that I dream of their death?
Does it scare you that I would kill you? Does it make you sick that I'm so twisted? Does it make no sense to you why I can't say no? Does it ever cross your mind that I want to die? Do you think that Paris should be happy? Would you like it better if I left? Do you know what it's like to be me?
Well, let me tell you a secret. You would never understand. Not now. Not ever. No matter how hard you try to imagine.
You will never know, unless you've lived it.
And you haven't. So tell me one more time, in the end, am I really, truly the monster? I thought so.
END POV
Adrien stared up at the ceiling as Chloe left the room, talking loudly and obnoxiously with Sabrina. He closed his eyes as he heard the door slam shut. His father would want to see him in an hours' time to discuss why he went missing and how he got a black eye. However, for the time being, he would stay in bed, and stare blankly up at the ceiling. Jaw clenched. Eyes closed. Soul destroyed. Plagg came out of the cupboard he was hiding in and tentively lay on Adrien's pillow. He was at a loss for words.
No matter how many times he saw Chloe force herself on the boy, it never ceased to make him feel utterly useless and sick to his stomach. Words would not help the young man now.
Plagg's ears flattened as he noticed a tear slip out of his chosen one's eye. He couldn't bring himself to tell Adrien to pull himself together. He didn't know how to help. None of the Chat's before him had been like this. None of them faced this atrocity. Here was a man. Completely broken.
No actually.
Here was a child, completely destroyed. Adrien exhaled slowly through his nose and opened his beautiful eyes. They were cold.
"Plagg. We're going out tonight." He said.
"Adrien…"
"Plagg I need to.I'm sorry."
With that he walked to the bathroom to wash some of the horrors of his life off his body.