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Louis' P.O.V
I heard faint muttering in the other room, probably Perrie explaining to the others what had happeNed. I knew Liam would probably be in later to try and calm me down, but nothing he would try to say would work.
I watched the screen of my Laptop intently, tapping my fingers against the hard wooden desk I watched the red dot weave through many country lanes. The red dot was Zayn and I was tracking his phone.
Suddenly, the red dot rounded a corner and stopped moving. I squinted my eyes and leaned forward as the leather chair squeaked, I looked at the area closely and saw the adress Greenwood Manor.
I'd been there many a times as a child, on school trips. It was just a huge Victorian manor, each room decorated to suit the style. But what confused me was that Niall had told me it had been closed down when they lost the money to pay the bills.
I didnt have time to dwell on things. Harry needed me. I pulled myself up from the brown leather chair and grabbed my leather jacket, pulling it ovee my white vest top. I didnt know what to expect when I got there so I put my small pocket knife in my pocket.
A pocket knife?!? Thats it?!? My subconscious screamed. It had a point.
I grabbed a small black duffel bag and walked out of the study, paSt the room where the others were that was now silent and into the kitchen. I un did the zip to the bag and opendd all the cupboards anf draws.
By the end of my search I had:
¤ A first aid kit.
¤ A small knife.
¤ A bigger and sharper knife.
¤ Bandages.
¤ A hoodie I got from my room.
Perrie's P.O.V
I chewed on my bottom lip, as I watched Louis pack two knives into the duffel bag. Why would he need them? What was he planning to do with them? The others had asked me to go speak to Louis because I knew tge most about what was happening.
" Lou?" I asked nervously, he didnt look up as he zipped the duffel bag shut " what?" he asked lowly " w-why did you put knives in t-there?" I stuttered gesturing towards the bag as I slowly padded towards him.
Louis sighed running his hands over his face and through his feathery brown hair, I felt sorry for him then as he looked up at me with big sad eyes " I don't know Per... when I go there... I dont know what to expect" he said quietly, moving his hands down to grip the marble counter.
" Where?" I aasked softly as I bit my lip and edged closer " GreenWood Manor, it's where Zayn is qnd probably Harry. I'm leaving in a minute" he eexplained.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and he looked up at me " Well then so am I"
" And me" Mia said stepping into the kitchen.
" Im in" Perrie saod softly as Niall and Liam walked in as well.
" us too" they said in unison.
Harry's P.O.V
I whimpered as I watched Jade crawl off me and Greg saunter over. My chest tightens, making it hard for me to breathe. Someone would come and save me, right? A kindred spirit. " Jade, leave now." Greg said gesturing towards the door, eyes focused on me.
She puts her hands on those narrow hips, trying to look tough, and I know she's pissed, but come on. The laws of nature dont work like that.Greg's a foot taller than her.
" W-what? but I thought you liked me? loved me! now you're just sending me away!" she yelled, tears prickling at her syes.
" Don't worry" Greg says " it won't happen again. You're not that interesting" Her jaw drops.
She stomps over to the door a few feet away, small legs so close to breaking into a run.The need to flee is held captive in every muscle. But she gives me one more glance.
And mouths two words ' I'm sorry' Then with that, shr left.
I don't remember my sister's birth ( imagine Gemmas younger, but I've studied the photographs long enough to know she came at midday, greeted by the winter sun streaming through the south-facing windows of my parents' bedroom. My other sister ( remember its an au!) Jess, appeared with the sunrise, as a sliver of grey dawn began its quiet match across the last England sky. Me, on the other hand, I was born at night.
Like a secret.
As the story goes, I didnt care for Gemma. My parents introduced me to this pink rooting thing when she was just moments old. I watched her suckle from the place I'd recently been pushed away from, saw the doting eyes of my mother and I hated her.
My parents threw a christening party not long after. I've studied these photographs, too. More digital proof of my loss. There's Jess and me squeezed into a tight navy dress - for her- and a navy suit for me, forced to stand together at the front of the church. I was three then, still soft and wretched in the way most babyish things are. At seven, my sister stretched taller, stringier. My elongated twin. In the photos, our matching curly brown hair is parted neatly, like a crisp statement of accounts. I was smiling at the camera, she was not.
I thought of these memories to distract myself at the fact Greg was peeling of my clothes.
After the service, lots of family gathered back at our house. Years later, Jess liked to tell me how starved for attention I was that day, as if my neediness was something to joke about. According to her, I threw myself at relative after relative, hoping to be scooped up, loved, only to be knocked aside again and again. Eventually, I hid inside a linen closet and waited for someone to notice ny absence. Nobody did. Jess found me hours later when she went looking for extra hand towels to put in the powder room. ' I'm sorry' She mouthed. .
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