Croissant-A Mullette Story [ON HOLD]

2-Laf's Family

Laf POV

I was going to open the door to my apartment and slip inside, but the door to my mother's apartment swung open and my sister rushed out, her hair bouncing on her back, trying to sneak past me. I sighed. Brotherly duty. I grabbed her wrist.

"Where do you think you're going, Celine?" I asked, holding her fast.

"Let-go-Marie-Joseph!" she snapped at me, trying to wiggle free. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"If you weren't going anywhere then you wouldn't be trying to run past me. Where are you going?" I asked.

Celine sighed and relaxed, her shoulders slumping and her white-blond hair falling over her face. "Fine. I was trying to go to the park with Isabelle and Camille."

"Celine, you know you're not allowed to go to the park by yourself yet," I scolded, letting go of her wrist and stepping in front of her. "Now go back to Maman and Papa."

Celine pouted. "Marie-Joseph, please don't. I'm the only one who doesn't fit in there, and-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Celine," I interrupted. "You fit in just as well as any of us. Come on."

Celine sighed and held out her hand. Even though she was twelve, she still liked me to hold her hand. I took it, her pale fingers wrapped around my brown ones, and pushed open the door to my maman's apartment.

Celine had been adopted when she was just one year old. Maman and Papa had fallen in love with a fat little baby with fuzzy, white-blond hair, skin as white as snow, and pale blue eyes. Growing up the only white person in our family had taken a toll on Celine, because to be honest, some of our family members were not as nice as I would like them to be, and Celine had been made fun of a lot growing up. Eventually, though, people became kinder, or they cared less. Either way, Celine wasn't made fun of, but now she used the excuse about how she "didn't fit in" to get her way, which was ridiculous, because she fit in a lot more than I did. I wish she wouldn't use her past to get things she wanted, but it was the way she was.

I pushed open the door and was greeted by quiet except for the sizzling of something in a pan. I inhaled and smiled. "Maman! I'm home!" I called out.

My mother came out of the kitchen. She was a tiny woman, probably only around 5'0" and weighing 110 pounds, but her hair was ten pounds of that weight. Long, dark, and heavy, it almost fell to the floor when she let it down at night. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Celine and me.

"Marie-Joseph! Celine! My dears, where have you been?" she said in rapid French, hugging us and landing the quick kisses on either side of our cheeks. "Papa is still at work, but he will be home soon."

"I've been at work, Maman, and Celine-"

"Don't you dare, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette," Celine hissed at me, spitting out the words as quickly as I had ever heard anyone say them.

"Celine was trying to sneak out," I finished, directing an apologetic shrug at my little sister.

"Celine Yvonne Lafayette!" Maman scolded.

Why did she have to get the nice simple name?

"Were you trying to get to the park again?" Maman asked.

"Yes," Celine mumbled.

"You know you are not allowed to do that. How many times do I have to tell you? You do not disobey me and my rules. They are to keep you safe. Go to your room and hand me your phone and laptop, then go back to your room and think about what you've done."

"It's not fair!" Celine shouted. "All my friends always get to go to the park and hang out! I'm the only one who doesn't get to go and they're always posting pictures and I'm left out!"

"Celine, do you know how many other mamans I have talked to whose girls have been hurt in that park?" my maman said, her voice rising. "You are not going and that is final, so you might as well stop yelling at me and give me your phone and laptop before you get in even more trouble then you already are!"

Tears of anger were streaming down Celine's face. "FINE! This is all your fault!" she screamed at me and ran off to her room, her long blonde hair flying behind her. She reemerged in a few minutes with her phone and laptop and thrust them at Maman, almost hitting her in the face.

"Do not throw things at me!" Maman snapped, taking the phone and laptop and slamming them down on the kitchen table. Celine huffed and ran to her room. I heard her door slam loudly and Maman and I were left standing there in silence.

"She's...a teenager," Maman said in halting English.

"Yes, Maman," I said.

"Stay for dinner, Marie-Joseph?" she asked, patting my cheek.

"I think I'll skip this time. Thank you, though."

"What? No, eat dinner with us."

"Maman-"

"Eat dinner with us, Marie-Joseph," she said in a firm tone. When I was little, that tone meant you will do what I say right this instant, but now that I was older, I had the courage to defy her. I was not going to sit at a table and listen to my maman and papa say awful things. I had had enough of that growing up.

"I'm going to skip this time, Maman," I repeated. "I'll eat something at home."

She huffed. "Fine. Be that way." She turned back to the stove.

"Okay, Maman."

"You know, I read an article where gay children tend to separate from their parents." She said the word gay like it was a disease, and my face began to burn.

"I'm not a child," I said through gritted teeth.

She turned back around, her eyes as sharp as daggers. "Being gay is awful, Marie-Joseph-"

"Don't call me that!" I said angrily. "Being gay is not awful! If you're going to have homophobic remarks keep them to yourself! I'm getting out of here."

I stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door so hard bits of drywall fell out of the doorframe. Then I marched into my apartment and slammed the door not quite so hard, but still hard enough to make a crash.

This was why I hated my family. Almost every day this would happen. Celine would disobey and Maman would get angry. Then she would order me to do something and I would try to refuse, making her even more angry. Then Papa would chime in with homophobic remarks and "Obey your mother this instant, Gilbert." I hated being called Gilbert.

I take that back. I didn't hate my family. I loved them. But I hated their behaviors and the way they did things and what they believed. That was why I had to get out of here.

I was writing this and I was like, "filler chapter." Then I was like "let's put something meaningful in here so it's not a filler chapter!" The result? This. I hope you enjoy my crap writing because it took me like 3 days to write this and I totally just knocked out the last half on my birthday because I had nothing to do 😂

ED :)