Solace

Chapter Four

It wasn't that Janet scared him, because she didn't. It was just the fact that they promised for the workers to be respectful and not judge; so far, both of the workers, Janet and that kid, Harry, had judged him. And he felt like screaming at the world for their terrible manners.

"Go back to your room." She said and touched Louis' shoulder, guiding him in the opposite direction that he was previously walking in, "I'll walk you up there so that you don't wonder off somewhere again." Irritation was an obvious thing in her voice, but Louis couldn't care less.

Once they were in front of Louis' room, he pulled his keys out. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Janet standing there, watching his every movement. He knew that she didn't like him and that she would probably do every single thing to get rid of him because of how annoying he was. Louis was thinking exactly the same thing about her.

He didn't bother to turn around and instead, once the door opened, he stepped in and quietly shut the door, not wanting to wake a soul up. But thinking about it, if Louis smashed the door in her face, Janet would be annoyed which would be a good thing for Louis; he would've scored a point.

Once he was safely in his room, the image of the boy invaded his mind again.

Why was he thinking about Harry if Harry had judged him? Why was it that his face was what came to Louis' mind every now and again? Louis was so annoyed by the fact that he couldn't get rid of the thoughts that he picked the black BlackBerry up from the desk and threw it across the room, the phone hitting the edge of the bed and making a loud bang sound.

He was just so confused, to the point where he didn't know what to do with himself. Was it good or bad that he was thinking about Harry? Of course it must've been bad because Louis doesn't like people. Louis doesn't make friends, he doesn't have friends. No-one wants to be friends with Louis so why did the Harry kid seem different than the others?

No, he wasn't different. He judged Louis. He did. Although he only said a sentence, that sentence hurt Louis. But why did it hurt more than if a person like Janet was to say the exact same words?

Louis was beyond confused. Maybe he thought of Harry as a friend; as a nice person who wants to say hi every now and again. Or maybe because Louis thought he would never feel that weird feeling towards a person, that feeling which was different from any of the others. But Louis didn't recognise it so he didn't know what it was. So strange, so different, so distracting.

While Louis was standing there, staring at the smashed phone on the floor, a dim light coming from his desk, his eyes travelled around the room until his suitcase came into his view.

He slowly walked over to the black rectangle and knelt down, his hands fumbling with the zip. Once the suitcase was open, he went to the side pocket and pulled out a men's vanity bag. Closing the suitcase, he placed the smaller bag on top of it and opened it, pulling out his precious friend.

His sleeves were suddenly rolled up and his back was pressed against the bed frame, his breathing as steady as ever. There was only one way to forget about them odd feelings he had for Harry and that was cutting.

The cold blade was pressed against his left wrist, warming up unexpectedly quickly. Louis picked the blade up and twisted it between his fingers, looking at his ugly reflection in the metal.

Without a second thought, he put the blade against his skin. His heart was pounding in his chest and he knew that he should stop; but he couldn't. Louis cut deep into his arm, line by line. It knocked the air out of him, as he silently hissed from the pain. A line formed and crimson liquid began to flow out in a straight line.

The cold air mixed in with the warm blood and it felt so good. Louis could already feel the endorphins releasing, giving him a 'high'. The 'high' is what made Louis forget what he felt, what he was thinking. It was the reason that he'd been cutting himself for so long; it was an addiction.