I was once a happy child. I had everything I could ever want. I had my perfect family, my best friend, and my teddy bear. The world was an amazing place, and I loved every day. But I was young, naive, and blinded by my own innocence.

I was five years old when I watched my mother leave me. I stood there unable to fully comprehend what was happening. My mother's back was slowly moving away from me. "It's alright, Chloé. I'll be home soon." My mother said without turning around. Her white dress clung to her skin, framing her body perfectly. Butlers swirled around the helicopter landing pad, scurrying around with endless suitcases of clothes.

"Okay, Mommy," I whispered. I knew she didn't hear me. The helicopter roared to life, soaring into the great blue sky. I clutched my teddy bear to my chest, forcing back the tears. "Please come back, Mommy." Somewhere deep inside my cracked heart, I knew she wasn't coming back.

I was six years old. I called my mother every day, telling her about my day while holding a picture of her close to my chest. At first, she tolerated it, making time for a quick conversation before a meeting, skipping lunch with her colleagues in order to speak to me, or just picking up the phone in general. Then, she stopped picking up, claiming that she was too busy. "Go bother your father," She sighed before hanging up. I slowly pulled the phone from my ear, setting it on the dinner table. Her picture fell from my trembling hands. Horrible spastic sobs tore through my frail body as I screamed and wailed.

Why didn't she love me?

Am I not good enough?

Why?

Why?

Why?

I was seven when my cheerful and kind personality spiraled downhill. I tried as hard as I could to be like my mother, wearing sunglasses atop my head. But I just couldn't bring myself to be like her. She was cruel and harsh, belittling anyone who was lower than her on the social ladder. She told me to not talk to the homeless people on the street. She sneered at a fifty-year-old war veteran with a missing leg, "They're all just fakes." I wasn't like her because I had sympathy when I was younger. I sneaked the veteran a couple of euros when my mother's back was turned. I would never forget the grateful smile that had appeared upon his lips.

It wasn't in my nature to be mean. Adrien knew that, and he stayed by my side when my dad had to go to work. He made me laugh, smile, and he shared his mom with me. His mother became my mother. She played dress up with me, took me and Adrien out for ice cream, she taught me how to sew, yet there was an ugly ungrateful part of me that wished that she was my actual mother. However, no matter how much I desperately tried to hate Adrien for the perfect life he was living, I couldn't. He was my best friend. He was like my brother, and I never wanted his beautiful smile to disappear from his face. Even if the cost was my own happiness.

When I turned eight, the blinding innocence was ripped from my eyes. I watched my mother appear on my T.V. She grinned as she made her way down the catwalk. Blowing kisses to the crowd, she accepted an arm full of bouquets. My father rushed over, turning off the T.V. He kneeled in front of me, "Princess, she'll come back."

Anger surged through my veins, "She's not coming back and she never will! Stop lying to me! There's no point!" I stormed away, slamming my bedroom door shut before slumping against it. I collapsed into another round of sobs. My mother was not coming back. Suddenly, Adrien's mother, Emilie, couldn't stop the pain anymore. After all, nothing hurts more than the wound of a mother leaving willingly. Emilie had tried her best to cheer me up, but it wasn't enough. Rage consumed my broken heart, encasing it a shield of stone. Anger is poisonous. It slowly kills the kindness in your soul, purging it of anything rational, and turns you into a hollow shell of what you once were. Then depression sinks its vicious claws into that empty shell, devouring whatever is left, leaving no room for hope.

My father managed to slow that process, showering me with expensive gifts, slowing the raging flames of anger in my soul. I changed into a spoiled child, desperate for attention, and I began to turn into a mirror image of my mother. But that was what I wanted. Right?

Somehow my anger changed direction and began to target the people around me. I put on makeup, trying to make myself look as elegant as my mother. I lashed out at the "peasants" that went to school with me. I spent the next few years catering to the inferno in my soul.

There was only one day when the fire died down. The day Emilie Agreste disappeared. And on that day the stunning smile that was always on Adrien's lips disappeared. I relied on that smile. It was the only thing that stopped the flames from burning me up completely. I stared up at the storm clouds that had gathered in the sky above. "You know she didn't leave willingly. She loves you, and she'll keep loving you no matter where she is. That is the most valuable thing that you'll ever get. A mother's undying love." I whispered to him. I pulled him into my arms and let him dissolve into a sobbing mess. Soon, my own silent tears joined his, blending in with the rain. I remembered all the times his mother had comforted me. The days where she was by my side doing things that she should be doing with her son. She would always bring a smile to my lips, through the tears, the rage, and the emptiness. I didn't lose one mother. I lost two.

The flames came back with a vengeance after that day. I couldn't understand why the person that deserved more than all of us had to go.

The rage got even worse when Marinette got involved. She loved Adrien. I could see it in her eyes every time she looked at him. I don't know why I hated it so much. Maybe it was because I knew she could make him even happier than me. But he was my best friend. I couldn't let go of him. He was the only thing keeping me alive. I just couldn't take it.

Then Pollen was introduced into my life, and she gave me a chance to escape the violent flames. She was the best thing that fell down into the dark hole that was my life. I wished that I could've spent more time with her.

A series of battles occurred that brought my mother back to Paris. The bubbling rage in my soul told me that I hated her. So I believed it. It doesn't mean that I didn't love her.

I did.

Now, I don't.

It was Mother's Day. My mother had not woken up even though it was already noon. I brought a tray of food to my mother's bedroom for breakfast/lunch in bed. A rare genuine smile graced my lips as I pushed the door open.

The tray dropped from my hands clattering noisily to the ground. My mother was naked in the bed with another man that was definitely not my father. They were tangled scandalously in the sheets. I backed away in shock as the man began to stir. I ran. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't want to be anywhere near there. I had boasted to everyone in my class that I was going to spend the entire day with my extraordinary mother. They had merely ignored me and continued to plan their own special Mother's Day party. I wasn't invited of course.

Yet, at that moment the fires in my soul immediately extinguished. I felt so numb. My feet automatically carried me to the location of the party. The crowd went silent as I stumbled into the room. I felt their stares on my back as I slowly walked over to a dark corner of the room and curled up into a ball. The silence continued for a while longer before erupting into conversation again. They sneaked a few glances at me, gossiping about what could've happened. I sat there, feeling absolutely nothing, watching the party go on. Then the crowd crescendos as Adrien and Marinette walked into the room, holding hands. Marinette turned beet red as Adrien leaned down and gave her a kiss on the lips. Marinette's mother took thousands of pictures, practically fainting from joy. The stone shield around my heart shattered. My happiness in exchange for Adrien's. Isn't that what I always wanted?

It was Adrien's turn to shy away when Marinette returned the kiss in the middle of a group picture. The perfect couple. I forced a smile onto my face. Brushing off my clothes, I stepped out of the shadows. My plastered grin seemed to falter in the glares of my classmates. And when I turned to look at the happy couple, I felt my smile fade. I tried my best to keep my lips curled upward, "Congrats!" The burning sensation of oncoming tears pricked my eyes. I embraced Adrien, whispering something in his ear. "Thank you, for everything." My classmates were in shock as I hugged Marinette too, "Take good care of him for me. Alright?" A genuine smile managed to worm itself onto my lips. I stared at Adrien with happy tears streaking down my face. He was happy. I slipped past them towards the exit.

The warm spring air wrapped around me. Thunder roared from the sky above. The slow pitter-patter of rain hitting the ground calmed my scrambled thoughts. A purple butterfly flapped towards me. It's violet wings gracefully maneuvering through the air. I smiled sadly. Not today. I wasn't going to cause even more problems. I just wanted it all to stop. Rain blurred my vision as I sprinted down the street. My foot slipped on a puddle and time to slow as I tipped forward. Pain erupted from my palms as I scraped them across the concrete to catch the weight of my body. Groaning, I flipped around to lay on my back only to see the seemingly innocent purple butterfly inches from my jacket. I scrambled away, reaching for a broken twig on the ground. I threw the stick at the butterfly before bolting. I sprung into action, racing through the streets till I got to the bridge. The butterfly was right behind me, following my every move. I grinned, taking one last look at the stunning view of Paris. My muddy rain-soaked clothes clung to my body uncomfortably. I shivered as a gust of wind pelted even more rain into my face. My blonde hair had fallen out of its usual ponytail and had plastered itself to my face. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before jumping down to the dark depths below. Tears leaked from my closed eyes. The cold harsh wind rushed through my hair.

Goodbye.

A hand latched around my wrist, "NO!"