✖ Chapter 3 ✖
"DID I EVER mention I hate talking about my supposed problems?"
"Only six times today."
"Good, so can I leave now?"
William sighed as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Harry, I have to speak with you considering you put on quite the show in the cafeteria."
"I told you," I said, exasperated. "The people were kicking the crap out of that poor kids and the guards weren't doing anything."
"That's because that boy pesters everyone," he replied.
"And that makes child abuse okay?" I rose an eyebrow, eyeing him and he sighed again. I could tell he was annoyed by the way he kept rubbing his temples.
"Of course not. That boy - Dustin - is the warden's son. He's home-schooled and always comes to work with her, thus him causing a scene each time. That was normal what you saw. And believe me, he was not in pain."
"Fooled me by the bruise on his eye."
Pursing his lips, he folded his hands and leaned back in the chair, that stupid clipboard resting on his legs. "Let's switch the subject. How do you feel today?"
I laughed humorlessly, giving him a look. "Are you serious?"
"All right, another question." He lifted a paper and frowned for a moment before saying, "Who's Rose?"
I scratched the back of my neck. "Clearly a female."
"You don't say."
"Can I please leave?"
"Obviously this girl means something to you," he said as he rose his eyebrows. "Is she a best friend? Girlfriend?"
Clenching my jaw, I glared at him. The guards had placed the shackles on me once more, which I can't say I blame him, but it was extremely difficult to not dive across the room and strangle him. I didn't want to talk about Rose with him. Hell, I didn't even know where she was or what was happening.
William rolled his lips together. "You had a bad childhood, no?"
"No," I said, tilting my head some. "I adored getting punched in the face and whipped four times a week."
"Those are not laughing matters, Harry."
"Then why the hell are we talking about it?"
"I'm just trying to help you."
"It would help if you let me leave."
Dragging a hand down his face, William heaved a great sigh. A mixture of frustration and defeat. He hadn't gotten me to talk like he had so many other people. I don't open my mouth for anyone. I don't share secrets that I'd like to keep to myself. And I especially don't accept help from people who don't know a damn thing about me.
He waved a hand to the guards and they gripped me on either arm, pulling me out the chair. He didn't say goodbye or see you later and neither did I. The guards took me straight to my cell while the others were at the quote unquote activities, and I didn't really mind as much as I should have. I wanted to be alone for a while.
And yet, I should know by now that being alone does anything but clear your mind or even your thoughts. If anything, your thoughts jumble and your mind gets clouded. There's no distractions to keep them balanced, so you let them roam wild. Or at least, that's what happens with me.
I don't remember falling asleep, but the sound of the glass door whooshing open is what made my eyes snap open. It wasn't a loud noise, but I've grown to be incredibly alert and adapted to quiet sounds in my life time. Hence why no one is ever able to sneak up on me.
"Get up," a guard with broad shoulders grunted. "The warden wants a word with you."
"Wow, two meetings in one day." I stood and stretched. "I must be quite popular."
He just rolled his eyes.
It must've been night time when he woke me. Walking down the eerily quiet corridor, each patient was tucked behind their soundproof doors and face-first on their beds. Some seemed to be sleeping while others stared up at the ceiling, talking animatedly to themselves or simply gazing. Some caught out movement and stared as we walked past.
That same gnawing feeling of not belong here began to eat me alive once more. I shook my head to rid the thoughts, trailing behind the bulky guard with my arms shackled in front of me. He would glance back every know and then, and there was a guard not too far behind me. It was obvious they weren't easy with trust.
"Do you know what this is going to be about?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Did I do something that I'm not aware of?"
He shrugged.
I groaned, but followed the rest of the way in silence.
The warden's office happened to be at the far side of the building, totally opposite of where the cells were. We had walked past the cafeteria, the activity rooms, secretary offices, and the receptionist desk before approaching the giant wooden door. It seemed to extravagant for someone who ran a mental institution.
Knocking only once, the guard opened the door before swinging his arm dramatically, allowing me in. I rolled my eyes before dropping into the seat, just as the warden turned in her desk chair from writing something, it seemed.
My eyebrows furrowed as I took in her sharp features. Long, hooked nose, piercing blue eyes, dirty blonde hair twisted into a tight bun at the back of her head - it seemed awfully fitting, truthfully. She wore a black pencil skirt that reached her knees, and a pink button-down covered by a black suit jacket.
She smiled, but it was odd - too forced. "Hello, Harry. My name is Evelyn Jones."
I nodded in reply.
She cleared her throat, straightened a bit and clasped her hands in front of her, resting them on the desk. "My grandmother, Cecilia Larkin, is the one who sent you here, which I believe you already know. Frankly, she has requested to speak with you."
My jaw clenched. "And if I were to decline?"
"I don't think that's a reasonable option."
She was right without even knowing she was. Cecilia had Rose, no doubt. She was the reason we were separated, the reason why I was here and she was still there. She had tried so many times to pull us apart and I guess it finally worked.
Evelyn stood and turned to her computer, clicking multiple times. "The video chat is in the midst of connecting. I will give you privacy knowing she will escort me out anyways. The guards and I will be outside the door, so do not think you may do as you please."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, never."
She gave me a stern look before turning the screen to face me, her heels clicking against the tile before the wooden door closed behind me. I turned to look, to make sure I was alone, and to my utter surprise I was. Alone aside from the shackles, and the video chat, that is.
"Harry Styles." I cringed at the familiar voice. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Not much of a surprise if you knew, right?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I glared at the woman through the screen, hatred burning through my veins. "Why the hell am I in an institution?"
She shrugged like it was obvious. "Your intolerable actions, of course."
"My apologies."
Cecilia's lips taut, she sucked in a breath before walking down what looked to be stairs. The camera still angled on her aging face, she still held the aura of power, authority. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't go up against her. Thankfully, I lost most of my right mind quite a while ago and was more than willing to get her off her throne.
"You might want to hold back those sarcastic comments of yours," she said as she stopped. "I have something I believe it quite precious to you."
My lips pursed just as the light in the room came on, illuminating a figure in a chair. A gag preventing her from speaking, binds preventing her arms and feet from moving, two large men standing close behind. Her brown eyes were still bright, though seemingly a bit more dull since the last time I remembered looking into them.
Rose.
I leaned forward, but then remembered this was through a computer. She wasn't actually here. I couldn't protect her, couldn't save her. And that killed me.
"I figured I had enough decency to allow one more conversation before she's under my total control," said Cecilia, and Rose's eyes met mine through the camera. She flicked her wrist, the guards reaching to undo the cloth between Rose's lips.
"Rose." I shook my head, needing to reach out to her, to save her from whatever hell they were putting her through. It was the stupidest thing to say, but it fled my lips anyways: "I won't let them hurt you."
And she didn't miss a beat replying, "You won't have a choice."
Her tone was too strained, too rough like she hadn't spoken in days. The stress etched across her features was blatantly obvious, causing my chest to constrict with how worn out she looked. Had they already tortured her?
My hands clenched around the armrests of the chair. "What are you going to do with her?" I muttered through my teeth.
Cecilia let out a short laugh, one that sounded too forced and not at all humorous. More like victorious. "Oh, dear. That's for you to find out later on."
And then the camera went black, Cecilia's smirk and Rose's terrified eyes the last thing in my mind.
I yelled, clicking multiple keys on the keyboard as if it would help. As if it would make everything normal and Rose would be beside me. I got frustrated, on accident, but mostly out of horror and the computer went flying into the wall. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean for any of this.
It was all my fault.
The guard pushed me up against the wall at some point, the warden shoving a sedative in my neck, but that didn't diminish the pain. Rose was gone because of my ignorance. Because of my need to fix everything, to make everything right when all I ever do is destroy whatever is in my way. I couldn't be a hero - I would never be.
It didn't take long for the sedative to drown my consciousness, leaving me in a blissful darkness that wouldn't last long enough to subdue the never ending agony.
And then I would be awake again, reliving my failure over and over and over.
And I just wasn't sure I'd be able to handle that.