If Walls Could Talk

Chapter Nine

When the anger left his body, it was always replaced with sickness. Then guilt. Louis knew what the last two steps were, and he carefully pulled himself off the floor, guilt still snaking its way through his body.

Of course, some of the things he said were true. He wouldn't have said them otherwise, but he also knew that his aunt was trying. Trying to be better and trying to do the right thing. Sometimes it may not have seemed that way, but deep down he knew she was trying.

She used to get drunk every night and pass out all over the apartment. Sometimes she'd even vomit before she'd pass out, and Louis would have to clean it up. It had gotten better. She had gotten better. But Louis couldn't help but feel resentment towards her. He couldn't help but feel the anger that he showed because she did only think about herself. Even when Louis was younger, he had to learn to take care of himself, and it wasn't fair. But, then again, when was anything fair?

Lost in his thoughts, Louis found himself back in his room, lying on his bed. He knew he should get changed out of his clothes or at least take his shoes off. But he didn't. The only thing he managed to do was to take his contact lenses out.

The guilt he was feeling was slowly melting away and began being replaced with sadness. Tears once again started to form in his eyes before rolling down his cheeks and onto his pillow. He hated feeling like this. When he got into his first fight with his aunt, and he went through the stages, he never understood why he got so sad or why he felt so guilty. Sure, he knew that he felt guilty because he shouldn't have said some of the things he did or done the things he had. But this was such a different kind of guilt. It was a much deeper guilt. A much deeper sadness. And he never understood it. He never understood why it took over him the way that it did.

Then, one day, it clicked. His aunt had been drunk, as usual, screaming about something. Louis was only fourteen at the time, and he didn't understand what he was getting in trouble for. He was just a scared teenager. He had been trying to stay quiet and stoically take the verbal abuse being dished out on him. But he had had enough. He dealt with it at school, from insecure shits in the form of teachers and bullies alike, and now at home. Enough was enough. And he yelled back. He screamed. As tears streamed down his face, as his voice rippled through the air, growing weaker with each word. And that's when he saw it. His aunt had gone quiet, and, at first, she was shocked, but then Louis saw a different look in her eyes. A look that soon covered her entire face, causing Louis to stop yelling. To stop breathing.

"Mum?" had been the only word that managed to slip out of his mouth.

His aunt had stood looking at him with the same look in her eyes that his mum used to have. Wearing the same look on her face. It was like looking at a photograph. Louis hadn't been able to hold himself together. He broke down, falling on his knees and calling for his mother. Calling for someone who wasn't coming.

His aunt had quickly turned and left the apartment, leaving Louis to be on his own. He had always been on his own.

That's why the guilt took over, and that's why the sadness followed. In every argument they had, his aunt always got the same look, making it feel as though Louis was screaming at his mother. As if he was angry at his mother. The very person he'd give anything to see. The very person who was currently staring at him from a photo frame in his bookshelf, looking happy. Looking proud.

Tears were now streaming down Louis' face as the floodgates had been opened. His vision was a constant blur, but that didn't stop him from sitting up and grabbing the photo frame from his bookshelf. Wiping as many tears from his eyes as he could, Louis stared down at the picture. His mother stared straight back, a wide, toothy smile on her face. A smile that reached every part of her face, causing her eyes to crinkle. The eyes that held so much love. The eyes that looked identical to his own.

Louis looked to the right of the photo. Next to his mum stood a man, roughly around the height that Louis stood now, looking down at his mother. Louis had always envied the love his father showed his mother. His parents had fallen in love in their final year of high school, and that love had never wavered, not once.

Then Louis was born, and that strong love they had for each other stretched over him. Louis was happy back then, and it was evident in the picture. He stood between his two parents, wearing a smile he hadn't worn in a very long time.

Louis continued to feel the tears fall from his eyes as he placed the picture on the shelf and lay back on his bed. The springs in the mattress groaned loudly, but Louis paid no mind to it as continuous sobs escaped him.

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A/N: Chapter Nine is here!

It almost wasn't... I got new internet the other day, and it still isn't working. I'm using my mobile phone as a hotspot. I mean, by the time you read this it's probably fixed, but... anyway...

If you enjoyed it, be sure to leave a vote! Tag some friends in it! Also, why not share it? That's always fun.

So, here's the question for this chapter:

Are you happy we're starting to see more of Louis past (even if it isn't the happiest past)?