Chapter 49: Chapter 49

"Madness is a kind of mental suicide."

-Stephen King-

***

Marcel has just returned back from work when he heard Giselle screaming inside the house. He was immediately alert as he pulled out the apartment key, slamming the door open, he ran hastily into the house and was shocked by what he saw. The living room looked like a war zone. It was beyond messy. No, it looked like someone had actually come and tried to destroy everything. A bunch of papers were misplaced everywhere.

The dining room had looked like something out of an action movie after the enemy and the main hero played chase inside the house. Broken pieces of plates were scattered on the floor. Sharp, smaller pieces of glass could easily injure anyone who accidentally step on them. He could see stains of dirt and food scrap also scattered all across the floor. He tilted his head back and forth trying to process what was happening.

Once again, he heard a loud screaming sound from the kitchen. It definitely came from Giselle. He thought what he saw in the dining room could not be worse, but he was wrong. As he stopped in front of the kitchen's door, it appeared to be an absolute disaster. The sink was left turned on until water started to leak out from the counter, creating a puddle across the floor. More broken glass pieces scattered across the floor, it seemed she had thrown every pieces of plates they had in the house to the floor out of anger. He could barely find a clean spot as he ran to turn the sink off while carefully tried not to injure himself.

Once he did it, he turned his head to find the source of the madness. Giselle was looking like a mess, he was not too sure anymore which was worse, the dining room / kitchen area or her. Giselle's beautiful face was stained with mascara's mark running through her cheek, her hair was rough and unkept, her pupils were dilated, her shoulders were leaning back against the wall in a defensive mode. He would have never expected it but he could definitely see some madness in her eyes. She looked like a woman who had just lost her sanity. Which at that point might just be true.

When her eyes met his, she acted strangely as she ran to their room like a mad man. Her body was slightly shaking from fury. He watched as she ran and tried to get himself out of the kitchen. Her behavior was beyond his comprehension. Marcel had to chase after her.

At the same time, he did not understand what had gotten into her mind, why she suddenly lost it like that. Yesterday evening, she had seemed fine, of course, she was a bit shocked by what happened during the dinner, but she said and did absolutely nothing. They both went to sleep like usual, and she was still sane earlier that morning. Marcel had thought all she needed was to calm herself down, hence why he felt right leaving her alone that day. But much to his demise she had ruined the entire house within eight hours.

As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut. A confused and half pissed off Marcel knocked on the door, telling her to open it. But Giselle only shouted for him to go away. She had locked the door, he was unable to enter. He angrily slapped the door, his palm turned red. Rummaging his fingers through his hair in frustration, that woman was driving him nuts.

Fortunately, he had made a duplicate key behind her back, he went back to the living and pulled out the drawer, he found it hidden underneath the piles of stuff which had gotten cluttered, which were mostly hers. He went back to the room, inserted it into the keyhole, twisting it and slammed the door open.

After he had stepped inside, he saw Giselle sitting on the floor, similar to the way she was seated in the kitchen, her face was buried on her knees, she was sobbing like a baby. Marcel previously had an intention of confronting her, but after seeing her in such state, he could not help but take a deep breath to calm himself down. Shouting at her was probably not the best idea. He circled in place and rummaged his fingers on his hair out of frustration once more. He took a minute to put his thoughts together, adjusting his voice before taking a deep breath.

"What happened?" He tried to ask her. She remained silent with tears on the rim of her eyes. Her whole face was red, there was nothing but despair and fury painted in her expression. Throughout their relationship together, Marcel had never seen her so down and emotionally exhausted. The woman before him was not the woman he loved, and the thought itself frightened him.

"It's her fault." She whispered hoarsely, trying to wipe away the tears which had completely ruined her makeup. As if it wasn't ruined in the first place.

"Whose fault?" He asked pretending not to know, which only worsened the situation.

"The bitch, Clara" She stood up and sat down in front of her vanity, only to witness her ruined appearance which made her even more furious. She took some facial wipes and removed her tears, makeup, and everything in between, retouching her base makeup, powdered her nose and combed her hair which by then had become damp from tears while Marcel sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor. He was contemplating his whole existence, the decisions he had made in the past and wondering how did things get so out of control?

After feeling better about her appearance, she pulled the drawer, pulling a round medicine case and took a Xanax pill which would help her to relax while chunking down a glass of water.

"So, do you mind telling me what exactly made you act like this? I know you just lost your job, and it must have been difficult, but this isn't like you. You could try to find a new job and everything will be fine." He convinced.

"No, you don't understand. Do you think I will lose it like this if it was only about what happened that night?" She asked, her eyes were bloodshot red from all the crying, yet she did her best to explain.

"Earlier someone was here, he claimed to be Clara's personal lawyer. He came with a formal warning, he said that initially Clara was going to charge me for personal assault and slander. There were pictures of bruises on her hand from last night. He explained that I could go to jail for it. This time she would let it go but if I ever do something like this again she would bring the case to court. She is threatening me, Marcel. Clara Bellavance is threatening me!"

She raised her voice on the last part. Marcel was at loss at words. He did not expect someone like Clara could be making charges against Giselle. Sure, Giselle went a bit overboard that night. She had gripped Clara so hard there were bruise mark on her hand. But Giselle had no intention of inflicting any injury on her, at least not physically. It seemed Clara had truly changed. The Clara Marcel knew was no longer there. She was replaced by a woman beyond his reach.

"I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" Giselle picked up a bottle of hair spray and threw it to the ground. It did not break and scatter for it was made out of tin, still, it let out a pretty loud noise which made the situation even more tense.

"Calm down. At least she won't actually press any real charges on you. Let's just forget about her and move on." He did his best to make the situation better, but Giselle was a vengeful Woman by nature, the humiliation she had faced made her unable to simply let the matter go.

"No, Marcel, I can't. I hate her with my blood. I want revenge!" He just stared at her in disbelief as he slowly backed away from her.

"You are mad, Giselle." He snapped as he raised both of his hand in the air as a sign of defeat, he had had enough, he had enough of her and her madness. He had enough of her childish and bitter behavior. He had enough of dealing with her unpredictable temper and insanity. Marcel could no longer be around Giselle, not after that day, not after what she had done, not after the chaos she had made.

He ran out of ideas to make her feel better and he was not even trying anymore. These whole time he had been the one who tried to stick their relationship together, he had been patience enough in following Giselle's every whim, he even betrayed the woman he once thought he loved to elope with her. Only because he had found her more attractive. It was such a shallow reason, after everything, he finally saw the truth and realized his mistake. He had left an angel for a witch.

Right then, as he leaned on the door, he wished he could just turn back time, if he had the choice right then, he would have never committed infidelity. Clara did not deserve it. He ran his fingers through his hair while taking a deep breath as he fought for his own sanity.

He had just returned from work, he was tired, all he wanted was to get some rest but he could not as he still needed to clean up the chaos she had made. He thought the best thing would be to pick up some brooms and vacuum and started cleaning things up, yes, that was a good plan. Yet on the other side, Giselle was highly displeased by his reaction.

"Mad? I am the mad one?" She stood up and slammed his chest hard with her palm. He was taken aback and was forced to take a step back.

"I am mad for you, Marcel" Her face was only an inch away from him. He could feel her warm breath on his lips. She was starting to tear up again. When he stared deep into her eyes, for an odd reason, he could not find traces of the playful, sly woman he had fallen in love with. It was such a peculiar feeling. Instead of love, he felt a sense of nausea from being around her. Like she was mentally choking him.

It was suffocating.

"Don't you love me too?" She asked him, there was silent insanity in her eyes. It was filled with so much darkness he could no longer take.

Marcel slightly pushed her away as Giselle's mouth formed a small o shape. He shook his head, unable to respond to her with his words, and headed out from the room without saying anything else.

She was stunned as she watched him walked out from the door.

"Don't you leave me, Marcel!" She shouted from the bottom of her lungs, but it was already too late.

Her world had come to a ruin.