Yours, Until Needed
Chapter 40: Mr. Fuzzy

Chapter 40: Mr. Fuzzy

Not that I didn’t get an earful before talking to my parents.

Rina gave me an earful about going at it alone and not asking for backup.

Jasper kept on screaming his lungs out as we left the station.

And Lucian made sure to remind me about how much of a weak chicken I was.

Arch. Idris was the only silent one, but after he gave his statement, he bounced out. Leaving me with only one kind person, Mr. Jim.

"I get it, both of you." I gave up as we entered the house.

"Jasper may not have killed me, but you both will if you don’t stop now."

I get it, okay. Who, in their right mind, would want to face demons alone while weakened? But I didn’t count on my countenance failing me.

"See, thankfully, there’s Chester!" I immediately zeroed in on this ball of floof. A breath of fresh air and dog fur would surely boost my mood.

"I’m going to give you time to rest, but you are not escaping this young miss, not even on your deathbed." Rina threatened as she left the house.

I hollered a goodbye and promised an interrogation session while huddling with Chester.

Lucian stood by the counter, his hand supporting his stance.

"Call your parents. Don’t try to wiggle your way out of punishment."

Way to throw me under the bus. I squinted at him, annoyed at having my mood plummet again.

But I did because I knew my parents would throw a fit the moment they were alerted to my location at the police station.

True to expectations, Mom started with a tirade of why that clusterfuck was a bad idea, while my dad was a mess between livid and depressed. If my guess was correct, he’d been crying again at the thought of my earlier experience.

But he promised me something through the crying, "We’ll have the Bernards investigated."

"You need a tighter security. I know that Lucian has a detail on you, but it’d make us feel better if you let us do this, too."

"Okay, Mom, Dad. I promise to be more aware and scream bloody murder if anything seems fishy."

With another round of "parently love," they finally let me off. "I love you both, and I will see you soon. Bye!"

I rolled around the bed, my hair still tied with a towel. I don’t know why, but I took way more time scrubbing myself today as if I had gotten dirty.

But if I’m being honest, I felt fucking violated. And that wasn’t even actually me. No wonder people go crazy after being subjected to such a thing.

But what worried me more was my reaction to the meeting. For Jasper’s moronic attempt, I expected to feel all these negative feelings. I can process these because I understand the reason.

But earlier?

Had I been too anxious about succeeding? Have I been too expectant of all kinds of failure regarding personal projects?

Because I had no such feeling before things started going well, I gazed at the ceiling that wasn’t giving me any answers.

But much that I know where to get better answers, I’m too wary. When I was young, I was sent to therapy for "anger management" because I allegedly got too angry with Alexa’s "playful antics." I got called out for reacting to her trying to push me off the stairs or the ledge and whenever she tried drowning me.

They kept on saying, "Kids merely being kids," and Grandpa kept on agreeing to it. No wonder Dad wanted independence instead of claiming the title of clan successor.

So I went to those sessions, only to discover that whatever I said returned to Aunt Ingrid. I only found out when I mentioned how I’ve recently been looking forward to Mr. Fuzzy’s house being done.

The three of us constructed a hamster house and had been designing it for a while. But no one else knew about that. Except for the therapist who asked my seven-year-old self about my current "outlets."

Lo and behold, the house went missing the day after. But I gave the doctor the benefit of the doubt because I was seven and thought that doctors who supposedly had the duty to uphold privacy would actually do it.

So when she asked about Mr. Fuzzy, I admitted that my hamster was a gift from Luci.

Then, all pretenses dropped because Alexa, who shouldn’t have known about Mr. Fuzzy’s origins as she had just now existed, insisted that I was unfair for having Mr. Fuzzy.

She held on to the hamster irresponsibly, and I panicked at how she was smothering him.

What was odd was how she kept crying and demanding I share Mr. Fuzzy because Luci wouldn’t want someone as selfish as I was. And that it was only fair that she owned him, too. We’re cousins, after all.

The instance of me trying to retrieve the struggling hamster became known to the public as bullying. But all I cared about was Mr. Fuzzy.

From then on, I resisted going to that doctor for therapy. The adults kept on rambling about my horrible personality and disobedience, but that was nothing compared to how depressed I was over Mr. Fuzzy.

I realized he was at risk while staying with me, so I had to ask Lucian to keep him. By now, Lucian had been much more reserved and guarded. And I couldn’t visit his house as often as I did before. I didn’t get to see Mr. Fuzzy as much as I had wanted.

This incident marked a huge turn in my life. When I tried telling the Chairman about what actually happened, all I got was a lecture on understanding and being the "bigger person."

I was a Thornhill, and more would be expected of me.

So, instead of calling out Alexa’s literal crimes, she was exonerated, and then it all went downhill from there.

Greed. She got greedy about anything and everything. It wasn’t until she realized that the Thornhills needed to keep up appearances that she reduced her machinations to things that wouldn’t affect the clan’s popularity.

It was that or how she realized that she’d continue to be forced to study if no one took the brunt of the clan’s need for someone who excelled academically.

She couldn’t win any other awards except for Ms. Congeniality and Ms. Friendship, so she had to pass the burden on to me.

From then on, I managed to keep doing well in things related to academics and extracurricular competitions. But if I even dreamt of doing anything for myself, those would all be thwarted, and everyone would just count it as me being constantly unlucky.

"Just focus on your academics and athletics. Because, as you can see, you could only be successful in those."

Of course, because Alexa fucked with everything under the sun.

And now, what do we have here?

I’m afraid of things working out. Because if I get too happy, something terrible will happen.

They say I’m cursed. But I’d like to believe I’m being haunted instead.

I’ll have to do something about this. I’m not about to go crazy and fearful of success.

That’d be too sad. I thought as I rolled myself into a burrito.