Wringer. LS

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

OMG OKAY REMEMBER WHEN I SAID I WOULD MAKE IT UP TO YOU GUYS FOR THE SHORT CHAPTERS? WELL, IT'S NOT AS LONG AS I PLANNED BUT BELIEVE ME, IT'S MADE UP THIS CHAPTER IS.......YOU'LL LOVE IT, SO MUCH. TRUST ME. YOU'LL HAVE FUN.

Favourite Tomlinson Sibling??

Fizzyyyyyy, because idk.

I present...... Chapter 17!!

(TRIGGERS: INTENSE EXPLANATIONS OF ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CUTTING, HOMOPHOBIA, AND OTHER STUFF THAT I CAN'T SAY BECAUSE IT'LL GIVE THINGS AWAY BUT YOU'LL BE CRYING BOTH SAD AND HAPPY SORRY GUYS.)

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Harry's POV.

"How many?" Louis asks me.

"Four please." I say. He places a plate with 4 pancakes and syrup on top in front of me.

"Four pancakes with syrup for Mr. Styles." He says in a french accent.

"Thank you." I say looking up at him.

"You're welcome." He says. I look down at the pile of pancakes stacked in front of me.

"Louis."

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna go check something in the treehouse, I'll be back okay?"

"Alright, don't be long though."

I get up from the table, walking out the door to the treehouse. I look around the tree house at my belongings, to the memories along with it. I look at my happiness check. The red and blue bowls. I haven't done this in such a long time. There are currently 10 in each. I take a few pebbles from the blue bowl and put them in the red bowl. Now there's 15 in the red bowl and 5 in the blue.

I move on to the black box. I open the box revealing multiple blades I have used to cut myself with in the past. Now that I haven't used in a long time... a long time. I pick up one and look at it. I don't even remember where I got these blades from. I remember there was one year, where I use to cut almost every night. I close the box and set it back now.

I turn to see my daisy flower crown from ages ago. Almost a decade. I pick it up delicately, looking at it. I remember when me mum made this for me.

"Everything alright?" I hear Louis say coming up in the treehouse.

"Yeah, just... thinking." I say siting down on the floor. Louis walks across the small room and sits against one of the walls. I'm laying on the floor, my knees bent, looking at the ceiling. Louis' across the room, sitting up against the wall.

"Thinking about what?" He asks.

I shrug. "Stuff."

Louis looks around the room while we're in a silence. "Why do you wear flower crowns?" He asks.

"I'd rather not talk about it." I say so quietly I'm not even sure if he heard me.

"How about this..." He says crawling towards me, sitting against the wall next to me. "You know how you're asking why I came here, why I'm a year behind, or where are my parents?" I nod.

"I'll tell you my story, if you tell me yours." He offers. I'm not really sure if I want to give my story. No one has ever heard it, but then again, no one has ever listened wither. "2 years after the twins were born, when I was 14, my parents went on a business trip..." He starts.

"And on the plane ride back, there was a crash. And they both died. So I went to live with my aunt and uncle. I loved my aunt dearly. I loved her so much, I started calling her mum at some point. My uncle... not so much. My aunt was very very sick, she'd stay in bed every day, she couldn't even work. My uncle would always feed her and help her and care for her, I always thought he was such a nice nice man. Until one night, when I was 16, I couldn't sleep, so I went into their bedroom and I couldn't find them. I went downstairs, looked in every room of that house and I couldn't find them anywhere. I went outside, and remember that there's shed about half a kilometre way. I thought it was strange that they might be there, but it wouldn't hurt to check right? Well, I went out, and checked, the light was on, and...well... I heard screaming. I didn't want to go inside, so I checked the little hole that was on the side of the shed. When I looked inside, I almost fainted." He says getting quieter and quieter. "I saw my uncle hitting my aunt. I wanted to help, but I couldn't, not at that second. Also he heard me gasp, and he looked up, so I ran back to the house and into my room. I cried for the rest of the night. That's when I realised that she wasn't sick at all... She was broken...She was torn apart. The reason she was in bed and my uncle would take care of her was because he didn't want us to find out.