just three weeks (l+h)

intro

Louis was normal.

However, every day the his youngest twin sister, Daisy, came home pale as her sheets and a throbbing headache pulsing through her brain. She'd go straight to bed and not eat until the next morning. Louis, like any brother, tried to help of course whilst his mother was worried sick about her daughter but nothing was to help. That same month she was taken into hospital and told she had an incurable blood poisoning caused by meningitis.

That's how Louis got onto the roof of his semi-detached house in Doncaster on the last night of his sisters life.

It had taken him a short matter of fifteen minutes to find a bottle of gin and be sat cross legged looking over the glittering lights of the city. He wasn't new to this game, he'd partied harder with friends in the club, taking a new person home every night, but it was a different case this time. He looked at his feet, moved to the skyline and back at the bottle, repeated a few times before someone came out of the house below him to pull him down.

"Louis William, what are you doing up there?" His mum shouted up with her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her new born. Louis giggled and shouted back down.

"What are you doing down there?" He gargled with drink in his mouth, "Wait, don't tell me."

His mum scowled up at him, the shadow on her face casting multiple contours that Louis apparently found hilarious. He threw his head back and laughed up to the black sky before another voice was heard.

"Lou?" His ill sister called, her voice fragile. The older woman was ushering her back into the warmth of their fire heated home however she set one eye on the her brother and was stuck to the ground. "Get down, what are you doing?"

Louis only then realised where he was, panicked and forgot how to get down until he saw a wooden ledge protruding from the house wall. He threw one leg forward and his whole body came crashing down before him. The tiles caught onto his clothes and then tore away from the roof. He felt one hit to his head and then the blurs of his hometown became a deep blue, turning into an infinite black.

.x.

His head was throbbing, beeps grind his brain before cascading out of the other ear. A warmth was in one hand, in the other was a pricking sensation until it has gone. The solid beneath him was almost brick like, however it had some spring about it. The warmth caught up to his head, opening his eyes into a white room of sleepy faces, all he recognised, however missing one to complete his family.

"Wakey," The warmth said, his mother smiling down at him with a sense of grief in the room. Everyone was looking to their hands in their pyjama covered laps. He felt a fresh sight of the world, as though a weight had been lifted.

"What is going on?" He asked, the white noise was killing him, almost as much as his fall.

His fall.

He looked down to his right arm, a cast holding it into place and his leg lift by something above the bed.

"Don't worry, they are minor injuries, you'll be playing footie in the next three months," Dan, his step dad, nodded with a quick smile, "You gave us a fright, lucky to not be in a coma apparently."

Would a coma be better, though, nothing really to worry about, he probably wouldn't even realise a difference.

"Not as lucky as Dais, though," A young voice weeped in the corner.

"Where is Daisy?" He looked around, even the babies were there, silent and sleeping, however still radiating sorrow.

Most shed a tear, and if they didn't they were comforting someone who was.

Louis gulped, breathes heavily but didn't cry. "She wanted me to hold her hand."

The family cried together.

The next day Louis was realised from the white walls of the hospital and was being pushed by Dan in his new wheelchair. He had an appointment due that week with a professional physiologist to talk about his intentions but of course he'd pass with flying colours. Of course.

He wasn't having a good day. The family were planning a funeral for Daisy while trying to help Louis with everything from getting dressed to showering. It was manic and people cried and Louis felt shameful. He had to be dressed well for the woman he was meeting- a Mrs Smith- but all he could fit in was his old tracksuit bottoms and short sleeve shirts that were a size too big with a stain where his left hip sat.

As he was being wheeled into the familiar hospital he saw children as young as 10 sitting around, waiting for a deduction of there sanity. He was defiantly the oldest.

"Mr Tomlinson."

Louis looked round to Dan, waited until he was stood and took a deep breath. He was wheeled in and left alone with a smartly dressed woman. He slouched in his wheelchair at her desk in the centre of the office.

"So, I expect you know why you're here?" She was looking down at her papers before finishing her sentence and looked over her thin glasses.

"You want to put me in a mental hospital."