he's just an illusion // narry

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

            Harry found himself in the middle of his bed legs crossed with nothing to do. He was lonely, heartbroken and sad. According to Carmen she blamed it on side effects of the pills he had been taking for two months now. Niall’s visit had been less frequent, less frequent as in once every two weeks, meaning he only came twice a month now. Harry felt so alone without Niall and he hadn’t seen Louis in a long time either, he felt so… alone… so hated…

Every night before he drifted to sleep, Harry found himself lost in his blankets looking up at the ceiling asking himself why everyone hated him, why this happened to him, why he had no friends. Sometimes a couple of tears slipped down his eyes racing to the sharp edge of his jaw,  other times he just mentally punched himself for being such a bastard… Either way, it pained him being lonely and friendless.

After so many weeks and days of being lonesome Harry decided, why not look for my friend instead of being stubborn and making them look for me? So, that’s exactly what he did, even if it was 10:30 in the dead of night, Harry got up put on his slippers and headed out.

Harry was supposed to be asleep thirty minutes ago and all the maids were downstairs in their rooms asleep, but he decided against the idea of turning on the hallway light. So, Harry grabbed the crystal candlestick holder from the shelve that held a proud, erect white wax candle. Harry struck a match and turned on the candle, he turned off the light in his room and opened his door carefully. Harry looked around the darkness of the old mansion. The candle caused everything to look like it was glowing, Harry looked at the coiled staircase and peeked at the bottom floor; darkness.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his sight to the other end of the hallway. The end of the hallway was so far away that the candle light didn’t brighten it one bit, it was pure darkness. Harry bit his lip and weighed his options in his head, he then decided to man up and walk to the other end.

Harry walked slowly, his slightly oversized plaid pajama pants trailed behind him slightly, the candle wax trailed patiently down the candle. With each step Harry took the old wooden floor creaked adjusting to the weight of Harry, Harry’s breath was uneven and frightened. He kept getting chills down his spine, even though he’s been living in this house for all his live, it still scared him.

After what felt like a lifetime, Harry reached the end of the hallway, the wall at the end of the hallway contained a mirror. The mirror reflected Harry’s curly hair looking voluptuous, his face glowing from the light of the candle and behind Harry darkness; pure, utter darkness. The only thing on the mirror was a blank-faced Harry Styles. Harry looked away from the vintage, rusty mirror and turned to face the door.

Harry puffed his cheeks and let the air escape through his lips as he calmed himself. His only two worries was dropping the candle and turning the wooden house into a house of flames, his second worry was what was behind the closed door.

Harry turned the rusty door handle; locked.

Harry rolled his eyes, obviously.

Harry looked around, he looked behind the mirror, on the ground, he tried pulling up some of the squares of the wooden floor, he tried everything, but nothing worked. Until, he saw a little something peeking from top of the doorway, he reached upwards with his free hand and sure enough, there it was the key.

He stuck the key in and gave it a twist and the door unlocked, it creaked open; the room was engulfed in darkness. Harry made sure the door stayed open; he wasn’t in the mood for a scary movie scene. Harry brought the candle near to materials and items; the room seemed to have every single thing, but a bed. Harry frowned, where was Niall?