guilty // madeon

Prologue - The Day I Turned Seventeen

Two lines. 

Two lines, in the right places, was all it took to flip my life completly upside down. Two lines, on my seventeenth birthday, perfectly parallel from each other, coloured in the most cruel black. Two lines, on a electronic screen, one that I'd wish I could barely see, but couldn't unsee. Two lines, taking my life, and throwing it onto a rollercoaster with no remorse. Two lines, on a small white and purple stick. Two lines, one word, zero excuses. 

Pregnant.

I paced around the bathroom for what seemed like forever. The only thing I could even think of was Maxim, Maxim, Maxim.... 

Ah, Maxim. The foreigner to a Frenchie like me. The extremist British idiot who was two years my senior. The man who impregnated me, I assume, a few days ago, before he left again for England. Did we use protection? Yes. Did it work? Not by a longshot. I don't think he meant to have it end up like this; I mean, yes, he did speak of marriage in our future, which I anticipated, but that was it. I was no stranger to long distance relationships, but I was a stranger to this. 

Maxim....I need to call him. 

I decided to let him know that I was pregnant before my parents. It would be the best choice, anyway. I got out my sleek black iPhone and tapped the contact labeled, "Maxxxx <3". The phone rang three times before a deep English-accented voice said, "Hello?"

"Max?"

"Oh, morning, love. Happy birthday."

"Yeah, happy birthday to me. Listen, I think we need to talk."

"About...?"

"Us." 

"Christie, are you leaving me?"

I can't leave him now.... "No, of course not. Listen, remeber that day you left for London?"

"Yeah?"

"Well...um..." My voice slowly started to trail off. 

"Christie?" 

"I'm.....I'm...."

I heard him sigh very loudly. "Stop. I already know what you're going to say."

"What am I going to do, Maxim? I'm just a kid! I mean, my life is on the line!"

"Listen. It's fine to be scared. I'm...scared, too. There's room in my flat for you if your mum and dad were to kick you out."

"How am I supposed to get there? I don't have a vehicle!"

There was silence for a while before Max spoke again. "They aren't going to kick you out, Christelle. Take the train if they do."

"But --"

"No buts. You know where I am. Plus, I gave you 1000 euros, so that's the train rate and more. I'll keep you and our baby safe, Christelle."

"Okay, fine. I guess that's alright."

"But can I say one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm excited."

And the line went dead. 

I proceeded to pace back and forth again. I mean, Maxim had money. He had a good job. His parents liked me a lot. I'd be safe with him....right? Yes. Of course. I wondered how I was to tell my control freak of a father and my trophy wife of a stepmother. A million thoughts raced inside my head at once, but I knew that that I had to calm myself down somehow. I was now just a ways away from being 18, which is a legal adult here in France, too. I had plans of moving out anyway, so this might have sped that up just a bit. I was still worried, though. What would they think of me now? Would I still be my father's little girl? Or would I be looked upon as a worthless trashy whore? I didn't know, and I was terrified to find out. I hoped deeply that my parent's perspective of me wouldn't change and, furthermore, that they wouldn't evict me from their home. Just breathe, relax, they'll understand....I thought. I knew deep inside of my mind they wouldn't, but it was worth a try. 

I gathered myself the best way that I could and made my way out of the bathroom and downstairs, where they were. "D-Dad?" I called out. It was obvious that my voice was shaky and that I was nervous, but who wouldn't be?

"Yes, honey?"

"I-I have something to tell you and Marie."

"Mum, honey," he said under his breath, quickly, "Call her mum."

"Come in here, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Marie called.I slowly walked into our living room, where I saw the two of them on the couch, watching some programme on the television.

"What, Christelle?" My dad said, annoyed.

"W-Well....um....M-Maxim and I--"

"Maxim? Oh, Lord, Christelle, I don't want to even hear about him." My dad hated Max. He always has, and he always will. I didn't even take that into consideration. When I told him this, he was really going to kill the both of us. 

"N-No, dad, just please, listen." 

He rose from his seated positon and began to pace back and forth, swearing with his walk. "I swear to God, if he got you pregnant..."

At that, I fell to my knees and began to cry. This is it.....I thought. My life is over.... 

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!!" My father shouted, throwing a lamp all the way across the room. "THE MOTHERFUCKER GOT YOU PREGNANT, DIDN'T HE?! I SWEAR TO GOD, WHEN I SEE HIM I'M GOING TO--"  

"Jean!" Marie shouted, rising up and trying to calm him down. "Look at her! She's cryring! She didn't mean to!"

"I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD IT WITH THEM!"  

With that, he turned to me and shouted even louder, pointing with every word, "YOUR ASS IS NOT STAYING IN MY HOUSE FOR A SECOND LONGER! GET YOUR THINGS, AND GET OUT, NOW." 

He started up the steps to my room as Marie followed and yelled behind him, "Jean! You can't kick her out! The girl is pregnant, she needs help!"

"Maxim can help her. But as far as I'm concered, if she wants to start a family, goddammit, it won't be under MY roof!" From my fetal position downstairs, I could hear him packing up my things. I was still crying, now, harder than I was before. I pulled my knees up to my chest, and all I could think was, He was right, he was right, Maxim was right....  

My father threw two gigantic black bags of mine down the steps and angrily came down them, Marie following close behind, begging him not to throw me out of the house. "Now," he started, standing in front of me with hate in his voice and eyes, "Get. Out."

I didn't even question his authority or say 'Why, Dad? Why?', because my previous encounters with him knew that he was extremely too serious. I sniffed a few times, attempting to stop the crying but failing, and simply picked up the bags and left. Halfway down the front steps, I heard my father call, "AND STAY OUT!"  

And the door slammed shut. 

I sat on the front pavement, wondering what my next move would be. Before I even thought twice about it, my phone was already in my hand, dialing Maxim's number. 

"So? How'd it go?" He answered, eagerly.

I sighed long and hard and sniffed before saying, "I'm coming to London." And with that, I hung up the phone.

My life is over, it's over, it's fucking over.....I thought. 

Turns out, my life was just beginning.