Psychotic (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 23

I set down the pen I was writing with and met her soft, wrinkle-lined eyes. By her actions yesterday I knew that she was trustworthy. If I told her what happened I was sure that she wouldn't tell anyone. She might even be able to help me decide what to do about it. Plus, it was probably a good thing to have someone else know of Harry's innocence besides just me,

"Well," I started. "I, um . . . there was a bit of an incident."

Lori nodded for me to continue. "Do you know that guard, James?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Ms. Hellman's son, right? He's a sweet boy."

I almost laughed at her comment. "Yeah, I thought so too. I went to his house the other night and at first everything was fine. But then he just pinned me against the wall and grabbed my wrists, and that caused the bruises."

Lori gasped, her eyes growing worried. "Really? Why? What happened?"

"This parts a little harder to explain, but he basically confessed to Harry's crimes and said that it was him who skinned the women, and then he tried to make me his next victim. But I ran away before he could actually hurt me." I tried to keep it as short as possible, not wanting to relive the horrifying details. No point in dragging out the story when I could just get it all out at once. It was probably a lot for Lori to take in, though, considering she stayed quiet for so long. Her face was thoughtful as she looked at the desk in front of her. I waited and waited, but it was silent for an eternity before she finally spoke.

"I have worked at Wickendale for a long time, and I know an insane person from a sane one. I always had the intuition that Harry wasn't crazed; somehow knew he wouldn't harm a woman like that."

I nodded, silently thanking God for Lori's wisdom. "I just can't believe James is the one who did it. Rose, you have to go to the police about this."

Lori had barely finished her sentence when the door creaked open and a third person entered the conversation. "Go to the police about what?"

The venom of the hard voice instantly gave me chills, and I knew immediately who it was. I turned and saw Ms. Hellman in the doorway, confirming my suspicions.

"Rose, you have to tell her. This is serious," Lori whispered to me.

"Tell me what?" Ms. Hellman asked. Well, I guess I didn't really have a choice now.

"It's, uh . . . it's about your son."

Ms. Hellman's face grew hard and her eyes narrowed. At that moment I knew that she must know of her sons horrid acts, because instead of confusion on her face there seemed to be anger. "Come with me, Rose, so we can speak in private."

I obliged to her orders and stood, following her out the door. We stayed right near the office, not going too far, but Ms. Hellman made sure nobody was in sight before I spoke.

"Look, I don't know how you're going to take this, but James . . . he isn't who you think he is."

"Hmm," she said, a constant condescending smirk on her lips. "So who is he, then?"

"He's the one who skinned those women. He attacked me two nights ago, Ms. Hellman. He pushed me against the wall and even said I was going to be be his next victim."

Her smirk grew into an amused smile and she actually laughed at me; her patronizing superiority was infuriating. "Is that so?" She asked in a mocking tone.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Look at these bruises."

"Are you sure those bruises aren't from Harry when he attacked you?"

"Harry is innocent and you know it!" I almost yelled at her. "And I'm going to the police whether you believe me or not!"

My frustration seemed to only further amuse her. "Rose, you need to calm down. I think you're confused; are you sure you're feeling okay?"

HARRY'S POV

The usual table at which Rose and I sat was once again abandoned, containing myself and a single deck of cards. The only people to be seen were those of the other patients and the guards. Looking around I noticed that most of the guards were chatting amongst each other while the patients talked to themselves or their food. Some have even grouped together while they exchanged meaningless chatter over shitty food. They probably couldn't understand what the other was saying since each individual had a mind if their own, but maybe they just wanted some company.

My eyes had wandered to a small, frail woman in the far left corner when I noticed a change. Her head went from facing down at her tray to looking up at the front doors of the cafeteria. And so did the man at the table beside her, and so did the group at the table beside him. I followed everyone's eyes to find that two guards had come into the room walking side by side through the doors' archway. And there was someone behind them.

It was rare to see this kind of entrance, and there was something strange about it. It could only mean that there was a new patient arriving. Behind the guards' stocky bodies did I catch small glimpses of whoever was trailing behind them. A piece of a pale blue uniform, a head of dark hair, a quick view of the person's small height. But soon the guards parted, joining the rest of their kind protectively lining the walls. That's when I saw the new patient in full; my heart pounded in my chest and my breath grew ragged with anger and worry.

It was Rose.