Marilyn Hart-The trouble of Carlos

*This story is underneath my folder titled “The trouble of Carlos”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. Enjoy!*

In the town of Moore’s Valley, there lived a fourteen year old girl named Marilyn Hart, who had bright pink highlights in her long, blond hair, navy blue eyes that seemed darker than the sea, and always wore clothes in varying shades of pink, gray, and black. She had enjoyed all things that were girlish and princess-toned as a little girl, but had grown to appreciate all that was spooky and so, Marilyn wanted her style to reflect the idyllic nostalgia of childhood and the jagged, unforgiving current stage of adolescence.

As a little girl, Marilyn was content to roleplay with her dolls, pretending to be a heroic Princess as she and her dolls went on far-off adventures together to fight a great evil. It was the time of her life where her parents seemed to be happy enough that Marilyn existed, a time of her life where she could eat grilled cheese sandwiches in a sparkling Princess dress under a sun that was so, so golden. The world was fresh and more colorful than any picture she had read and the days had stretched on like the flow of a river, undisturbed, everything moving as it was meant to be.

But as a fourteen year old, Marilyn felt as though everything was going by much too fast, like her parents were no longer satisfied with her, like everything had become all drab and bleary.

It broke Marilyn’s heart a little, to feel as though the world expected her, wanted her, to grow colder once she got older, all under the guise of “appearing serious and sane for others to even tolerate her”, but Marilyn wouldn’t fall for it. She could still be a more grounded teenager without having to lose any of the things that made her unique, that made her happy. Others saw it as “crazy” or “weird”, she felt a little more like herself.

Though Marilyn didn’t play with dolls anymore, she still had her doll collection and she took the time to read them poems that she wrote, poems about the twisting and turning of growing up, how it seemed that people were expected to abandon the things that shaped their childhood. Her heart still felt uneasy about getting older, but writing and not caring about what others said certainly helped.

She also had plenty of people who’d stare at her as if she had a face grown in the back of her head when she walked in school with her tote bag, the head of her porcelain doll sticking out as if it wanted to take a peek at the world. Marilyn brought at least one of her dolls with her to school as something to keep her company, so of course, people wouldn’t like that, but Carlos Bardot…

Carlos Bardot. Marilyn had seen the boy a few times in school. The boy with the black hair cascading around his lightly tanned face, his dark green eyes gleaming brightly, as though he had many things to tell people and so little time to tell them. Carlos had lost his family to a car crash on Halloween night when he was twelve years old, so he had to live with his Grandparents since then. Not only that, but his boyfriend, Beck, went missing last Halloween. Carlos was a boy who had deep, deep loss at fourteen years old, a handsome boy who was always visibly excited about Halloween, who never really talked to anyone unless he wanted to and-

And Marilyn felt bad for him. She wished that she could comfort him, that she could make his day lighten up, partly because she had a crush on him and wanted to have someone close to her, partly because he didn’t seem like someone who deserved to be miserable, because the school thought of him as odd just like they thought of Marilyn and so, that, that was simply unfair!

But Marilyn wasn’t sure what to say to him or even if it would be appropriate to talk to him, what with his boyfriend having gone missing and her feelings for him swirling inside as if it would explode out of her in any second. She wasn’t sure if he would like her back, either, so she kept to herself, going about her ordinary routine.

That was, until one day in late September, when she was walking to the bus stop after school. The sky was covered up in white clouds, the air was cool and crisp and already, autumn leaves were on the ground. Marilyn was counting all the leaves, anticipating the month of October, when she would get to carve pumpkins, watch Hallows’ Eve movies, and go apple picking, moments that were cozy and all to herself, moments that would lead up to a fateful night where she would dress up and experience something truly mystique. As she counted the leaves, she saw…

A porcelain doll’s shiny white arm sticking up out of the grass in somebody else’s front lawn. Marilyn didn’t know how or why the porcelain arm was there, but if there was a doll buried deep, then she wanted to see what it looked like.

So, she walked up to the house and pulled out the arm, finding that the arm was connected to a doll with curly black hair in ringlets, blue eyes adorned with black, lace-like eyelashes, pale pink lips in the shape of a bow, and a plum and african-violet purple bonnet and dress. The doll had dirt stains on its body and a piece of folded paper taped to its dress.

A piece of paper? But why?

Marilyn took the paper off the dress and read it as she walked to the bus stop:

“To Marilyn Hart,

I know how much you like dolls, so I buried this for you to find. I also know of your kind, sensitive heart just from how you spend so much time writing poems, from how you roleplayed during recess when we were younger, and from the glow in your eyes.

My heart still grieves for Beck’s disappearance. I always hope that he can be found soon, but I cannot deny my care for you. In a way, I see myself in you. The same loneliness, the same gross misjudgments. People don't know what it’s truly like to feel so hopelessly and undeniably disconnected from the rest of the world.

Lately, I’ve been wondering what it would be like to be your boyfriend, to bring you porcelain dolls, to hear your poems. I hope you don’t mind this, but I’ve read a few of your poems over your shoulder in science. They’re really good. You should think about getting them published.

If you just want to be my friend or don’t want to talk to me at all, then I understand. I won’t bother you anymore.

I just thought that I ought to write this letter and let you know how I feel.

From,

Carlos Bardot.”

Marilyn rubbed at her eyes as she sat on the bench at the bus stop, one arm wrapped around the doll, the other holding the note, hardly believing its content. It was so beautifully thoughtful, so poetic in its own way, but…why? Why would he write a letter like that for her? Why would he bury a doll for her? Why-

“So you found my letter.” A boy’s voice said.

Marilyn looked up and found that Carlos was sitting next to her at the bus stop, peering over at the letter she was holding. Her heart raced a bit, half of it due to the fact that he was Carlos and he was sitting next to her, another half of it being that he didn’t usually take the bus, so why was he there?

“Yes, but don’t you miss Beck? Don’t you think that this is a lot? Why did you bury a doll in someone else’s lawn? Why are you here now, at the bus stop? Did you know I was going to be here?” Marilyn asked, eagerly and yet nervously awaiting his answer, for it would either be the best or worst thing that she ever heard in her life.

Carlos kicked his legs back and forth, looking thoughtfully off into the distance, brushing some of his hair away from his face. He had such smooth, soft hair like her dolls, hair that Marilyn wanted to her fingers through, hair that she wanted to twirl, but still, why was he there?

“Well,” Carlos began, “I have said in the letter that I’m always going to miss Beck and this will stay true for me. Nothing will ever change that. However, I still want to love, I still feel the care deep in my heart and the person that I want to care for, the person I think will understand the most-that person is you. I buried the doll and left its arm sticking out for you to find, because you’re someone who appreciates having a bit of magic in life, right? I also have seen you walk over to the bus a few times, the path I take to my Grandparents’ is literally not that far from this stop.”

Carlos took that much time out of paying attention to her? He cared for her that much? Why, she never imagined anyone, let alone her crush, taking note of her and being attentive to her? The doll was lovely and so was the note and his words, yet one question remained:

“Once they find him and he gets back to school…won’t Beck be upset if he sees us dating?”

To that, Carlos said:

“I’m sure that if they find him, he’ll understand. Me and him were starting to get on okay-ish terms anyway. He’s not the type to get that upset about anything. But, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, we could just be friends. I’m still interested in talking to you.”

Just then, the bus stopped in front of them. Marilyn supposed that it was natural for someone to want to date others, but wasn’t it too good to be true? Wasn’t Carlos moving a bit too fast?

But still, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him more, either.

“I think we’ll just stick as friends for now. Thanks for the doll. It’s absolutely beautiful.” Marilyn beamed, for really, finding the doll was one of the sweetest things that ever happened to her and she would really, really like to get to know him better.

With that, Marilyn and Carlos walked into the bus, Marilyn telling Carlos to sit next to her once they were inside, so that they could talk to each other more.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

It had started off as just the two of them talking about the day-to-day moments of their lives, their loneliness coming up in their more “mundane” conversations, for it was something that had a cruel clutch in their minds and talking about it made them feel more connected, more alive.

And as the days went on, the two of them kept talking away with one another, Marilyn feeling something fluttering inside of her with every talk they had, every chance she looked at his dark green eyes. Carlos kept giving her dolls and letters, along with a necklace made entirely out of teeth!

He was sweet, he was strange, and by the time October Thirty-First rolled around, the two of them were already dating each other, for Marilyn had grown to love him so, so boundlessly and Carlos had said he felt the same. Besides, it was nice to feel accepted for who she was, even if there was a nagging sense of unease in the back of her mind at the thought that she was dating him when Beck was still missing. Carlos did tell her that Beck was the type of person who would understand and that he only wanted to love, so Marilyn tried her hardest to pay no mind to the feeling.

It was on October Thirty-First, Carlos dressed as a zombie, Marilyn dressed as a haunted doll, that Carlos asked Marilyn if she wanted to go to a “special spot” after school. Marilyn agreed, for a Halloween date with Carlos at a special place sounded absolutely fantastic to her!

Carlos led her throughout town, then through the local woods, then, as the trees branches swayed with the gush of autumn wind, he stopped in front of what looked like it horribly maintained garden shed, thick, white clouds of cobwebs sticking to the weathered wood that was painted white with pink flowers. The roof was also a bright pink and so, amongst the barren wood…

“It looks like a dollhouse.” Marilyn breathed, grinning as she looked up at the charmingly creepy house. How could Carlos know about such a lovely place? How did he always think of everything?

“That’s what my older sister, Casey, said when we both first found it.” Carlos said, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Really?” Marilyn asked. She knew of what happened to his family, as did everyone who lived in Moore’s Valley, but to see that one flicker of sorrow in his face, hear that crack in his voice, reminded her of just how gray his world was.

“Yes. When she was ten and I was six, we went too far on a family hiking trip-my parents always called it hiking, but it wasn’t really hiking. At least, it didn’t feel that way to me. But anyway-me and Casey went too far and then, we found this place. I thought it was kind of creepy, but she…she saw it as a dollhouse. As a pretty, peaceful little place.” Carlos said.

He looked down on the ground, kicking up piles of leaves as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Marilyn walked up to him and squeezed his hand, hoping that in his silence, he thought it was comforting.

“Because of what she said, I decided that it was nice too and then we both went inside, roleplaying a bit before we heard our parents call our names, then we ran out and ran towards their voices. As glad as we were to be with them, we also wanted to visit the shed again, so we made an agreement that every summer, on days where we were free to go out, we’d go to the woods and try to find that shed. We didn’t find it immediately when we sought it out, but as the summer season went on, we started to get better and eventually, we found the correct path. Now I miss going to this magically morbid shed with her.” Carlos said.

There was a long, drawn-out pause of which made the uneasiness that Marilyn pushed away grow more prominent, more glaringly noticeable. She didn’t know what to say, how to make him feel better, and that was driving her a little crazy, bothering her, even.

“But anyway, here’s the shed and it’s even better on the inside!” Carlos beamed, taking ahold of Marilyn’s hand and leading her inside.

She didn’t know if he felt any better, but she didn’t want to change the subject to that grin topic again, so she said nothing.

……………………………………………………………………………………

The inside of the shed had even more cobwebs in every corner. There were garden tools strewn about, holes in the walls and in the windows, and the air smelled thickly of mildew.

But Marilyn could see the quiet beauty of the shed, could admire how the moon shone on the webs, and absolutely loved the watchful solitude of the garden tools.

She and Carlos walked throughout the shed, pointing out all of the details, stopping to kiss every once in a while, taking in the sheer joy that they were spending Halloween together. It wasn’t the kind of Halloween that Marilyn imagined she would have, but that made her all the more uniquely special and she wouldn’t have traded it for anything else in the world.

“I took Beck here in October 2003. He wanted to break up with me a few weeks earlier, but it…it really, really hurt, because I loved him, and he wanted to break up with me over the dead animals I gave him! Can you believe that? I was giving him animals to express my love and he-“

“Why are you talking about Beck?” Marilyn asked, for he had suddenly brought Beck up out of nowhere, and goodness, Carlos looked like he was about to cry again!

“I just…I just wanted to say that I wrote him a letter asking if we could hang out together on Halloween, he said yes, and then I took him here! Being here makes me think of all the love that flowed to us, the mistake he made with trying to break up with me, and…and when I bashed his head in with a shovel. I-“

“You did what?!”

Because there was no way Carlos bashed Beck’s head in with a shovel, no way he was telling Marilyn all that, no-

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you not like me now too? All I did was bite the flesh on his body and eat it! I even have his skeleton in my closet-Except for his teeth, I gave you his teeth. But I only did it so we can be together forever! Don’t you think that it’s romantic? Don’t-“

Marilyn turned around to run, but then, she felt something pointed lodge deep into her back, and then, her legs got so, so heavy, too heavy to move, and she fell on her stomach, but felt Carlos roll her over on her back.

“Marilyn, we’re dating. Isn’t love all about doing what we can for it to be strong enough to last a lifetime? I just wanted me and Beck’s love to be stronger than before, but I still feel empty. Maybe you can help fill the void.”

Carlos was standing over her, holding a long, sharpened garden shear that dripped with her blood. He must have picked it up when she turned around, because she didn’t see him hold it before. She wanted to crawl away, oh, she did, but she could already feel her blood spilling out of her, and her body started to feel like it weighed far too much for her to move…

“I’m only doing this for love.” Carlos said, bending down so that they were eye to eye, so that the last thing she saw were his murky, mysterious, and marvelous swamp green eyes…

And the garden shears coming down on her, stabbing her endlessly, over and over and over again.