✖ Chapter 4 ✖
I DIDN'T SPEAK much the next day. In fact, I would have stayed in that uncomfortable bed all day had it not been for the guards and William saying social interaction was for the better. Yet I got in trouble for "interacting" yesterday. They should really be specific with their wording.
Daniel was rambling about something I didn't care to know and had the rest of the table intrigued. All except Aiden.
I nudged him with my elbow. "Do you ever say anything?"
Of course, he looked down at the table.
Pursing my lips, I nodded before fiddling with the garbage food they had on the menu today. I was using the fork as a rake for the mashed potatoes when Megan snapped her fingers in my face.
I caught her hand and shot a glare her way. "Don't ever put your hands in my face again."
She swallowed, retracting her hand as she nodded once. "I... I was just going to ask if you were okay..."
The statement brought a bitter laugh to leave my lips. I heaved a hand through my hair, clenching my fist around the plastic fork and watched it snap easily. Then I dragged both hands through my tangled hair, stress getting the best of me.
"I'm locked in a mental institution with no control over what happens outside of it," I snapped. "How do you think I feel?"
"Pretty useless."
"That's an understatement," I grumbled under my breath.
Daniel rose an eyebrow. "Did something happen yesterday? I mean, I know you were psychotic yesterday, too, but what did William say to you?"
"Nothing," I said through clenched teeth. "He said nothing. And that is my problem."
"Then what-"
"They have Rose, Daniel!" I didn't mean to yell, but I did and I captured the attention of nearly everyone in the cafeteria. Digging my nails into my palms, I looked down and shook my head. "Sorry."
"No, I get it." Daniel leaned forward on his elbows. "Did they let you talk to her?"
"I almost think it would've been better if they hadn't."
He perked up a bit, eyebrows raising. "What did she say? Is she okay?"
I gave him a look.
"Right, stupid question."
Megan raised her hand. "Totally lost. I've heard of this Rose girl from the news and stuff. Ran away from home or whatever, but..."
"But it's also none of your business," I told her.
"Fair enough, but-"
"But I'd like to change the subject."
Everyone fell silent for a moment, and I was fighting against my anger to not flip the table across the room. To not murder every damn person who got in my way so I could get to her. I didn't trust Cecilia. Not one bit, and the fact that whatever they were doing with Rose was a secret to me, only increased my hatred and panic.
Marcus walked in a moment later, taking a seat without getting lunch. He seemed a bit on edge, but I didn't question it. I didn't need anything else to stress about in my life when there was nothing I could do about it.
Right when the table broke into small talk, it was abruptly cut off again but a high-pitched scream from across the room. Everyone turned their gazes over to see a woman covering her ears, shouting incoherent things as she rocked back and forth. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying not to feel pain for her but I did. No one should live through something like that.
But then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and instead of being white, they were black. I stood from the table, squinting to get a better view but the guards had already surrounded her. I'd never seen anything like that before.
"A psychic," Marcus muttered as he rubbed his temples. "And damn, she's loud."
"A psychic?" asked Megan.
"Sees snippets of the future-"
"I know what a psychic is."
"Then don't paraphrase a statement into a question."
Megan fell silent and I turned my gaze to him. "They actually exist? I thought it was just old folklore, like you used to tell me."
Marcus pursed his lips, shook his head. "Nope, they're real. And most of the time, they're quite the bitchy ones."
I chewed the inside of my cheek.
Daniel groaned. "Oh no. Let me guess, you want to go talk to her, right?"
"Yup."
"And you won't stop until you found out what's happening with Rose, right?"
"Bingo."
Daniel shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were begging for trouble."
***
During the activity for the day - arts and crafts, much to Daniel's excitement - I caught sight of the psychic at a table alone. The guards had managed to silence her screaming, and somehow calm her, and she acted as if the whole scene hadn't happened.
I leaned against the wall next to a guard. "How stupid would it be to confront the psychic?"
"Practically a death wish," he said.
I shrugged. "Not like I haven't been through that before."
And then I walked over.
I sat across from her at the table, her eyes not even moving from the paper she was cutting with those fancy scissors. The ones that can do no actual harm but make an artsy line where you cut. She continued to fiddle with it and I leaned forward on my elbows.
I opened my lips to speak, but she beat me to it. "Harry Styles. Three months shy of twenty-one years old. Black Witch. Captured three times, escaped each time, and yet the fourth one they tossed you in here." She looked up at me, a smirk on her lips, but it quickly faded. "I have no interest in speaking with you."
"Then hear me out-"
"You want knowledge on a girl named Rose Parker. Six months shy of twenty-one. White Witch. Real parents unknown. I have nothing to say about her."
My eyebrows pulled together. "You just said her parents are unknown... what does that mean?"
"Persistent, I see."
"Just tell me. Please. I've had an exhausting few months."
She set down her scissors, leaned forward on her palms, and stared me in the eye. "I will say this one more time - I have nothing to say to you. Now leave me alone."
I stood as well, our faces leveled. "I'm not one to take no for an answer. And face it, you wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against me even if you tried."
To prove my point, I focused on her and her hand flew to her throat. She tried to hold eye contact, tried to prove it didn't phase her, but her face was already tinting purple. A guard asked what was going on, and I looked away to give him a polite smile. Then turned back to the girl to see she was heaving breaths, looking at the table.
"Now," I said, "my question."
"I don't know," she stammered out, rubbing her throat. "All I know is that the man she lived with was not her father."
"And her mother?"
"I. Don't. Know." She glared up at me. "I'm a psychic, not a genius."
"Close enough," I pointed out. "Where is Rose now? What are they doing to her?"
She shook her head. "I'm not going through that torture for you."
"Torture?"
"To see what's going on," she said, her eyes never leaving mine. "It's a lot of pain to go through, and half the time it isn't my choice. I black out, I scream, and I see things that haunt my dreams. I am not going through that for you. It's hell."
"Honey, I've walked through hell and back my entire life." I rubbed my forehead. "I just need to make sure she's okay."
She eyed me a long moment, bit her bottom lip and still shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing it."
And yeah, I'm an ass, but I wasn't going to force the girl to go through the trauma she was describing. So I rolled my lips together, nodded, and let her be.
***
I didn't sleep that night.
I laid on my side, facing Daniel's cell which was directly across from me. He was singing to himself, it looked like, and for once and I was upset I couldn't hear him. It would've been a great distraction. Being alone with your thoughts isn't exactly preferable to me.
He caught me looking at him and grabbed a piece of paper that was on the little table. He scribbled something down, and I was surprised he even had a pencil. He must have stolen the paper and the pencil from the arts and crafts room.
After he wrote on it, he placed it against the glass. And though the wording was backwards, it was easy to make out.
CREEP
I rolled my eyes, giving him the middle finger and watched as he laughed before I switched onto my other side, facing the wall. There was still that aching in my chest, that emptiness that never seemed to leave, and yet somehow, I had fallen asleep.
I shot awake right as the guard was opening my cell door. "Get up. Time for the morning activity."
"Oh the wondrous joy."
The activity in the morning was short, and it included an option of group therapy or whatever else was going on. This just so happened to be the morning of active reading. And I definitely chose a book over talking about my problems with a bunch of people who had their own.
Daniel sat in the group therapy with Megan, but Aiden and Marcus stayed out and mainly dwindled their thumbs. I didn't read either, I'll admit, but I had my eyes focused on the psychic not even twenty feet from me as she came in the door.
She was shaking when she entered, her eyes scanning the area. They found mine and she quickly rushed over.
I closed the book I hadn't even glanced at and stood, only for her to grab my hand and drag me to the corner of the room. Marcus and Aiden stared in curiosity, but I think we were out of their reach to hear, and I think that was her intention.
"I saw her," she said shakily, running her trembling hands through her hair. "I didn't try to, but it woke me up and..."
"What was going on?"
She looked away.
"What's your name?" I asked, eyes trying to lock on hers but she continued to look away.
"Carson," she murmured.
I grabbed her shoulders. "Okay, Carson. Tell me what you saw."
She was still shaking her head, biting her nails, looking to her feet - anything to keep herself from opening her mouth. It was an understatement to say I was growing impatient, negative possibilities of what she could've saw swarming my mind.
"It was dark," she finally whispered.
"And?"
"And she was laying on..." She closed her lips, water welling in her eyes.
"Carson," I said, firmer this time. "Tell me what happened. Please.
"They took her heart out, Harry," she whispered, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I watched them torture her to a literal death. She's gone."