habit » stylinson au

4: overthinker

Louis' day was like gum, it dragged on forever and quickly became nauseating. He left the building with a bruised hip and one too many thoughts in his head that did not make the deceny to leave any time soon.

He headed to the house he once used to call home, but now was only four walls and a roof over his head for him. This house could simply not be labeled a home, the feeling of comfort long gone and washed away with the laundry that didn't even smelled the same as it did when Louis was a small kid.

Sometimes he missed the feeling of excitement when coming home from a long school day, happy to run into his mother's arms and talk about his day while sitting on the kitchen counter and her cooking.

Or the days when Louis had terrible nightmares and wasn't afraid to go to mommy and ask if she could sing him back to sleep and tuck him into the blankets, safe and warm, away from all the shadows he once considered monsters.

These shadows were now his friends, he hasn't been afraid of them in a while. Louis himself has become a shadow, so he just blended in perfectly. And perhaps it hurt him more than he would like to admit, maybe the ignoring from his mother was cutting deeper than he thought it would, maybe the harsh words were deeper engraved into his mind than he ever expected them to be and maybe the beatings he took on a daily basis weren't even the worst things of them all.

Because a bruised hip and a bloody nose was much less painful than the heavy emptiness that was clouding not only his mind, but his heart and soul.

The people have hurt and destroyed Louis in every way possible, that it has been come impossible for him to notice how bad it actually was. He wasn't numb to the feeling of feet kicking him or fists hitting his face, nor was he ever able to drown out the voices and the fingers pointing at him while he walked through the school halls.

He's just been told to get over it, "It will make sense when you get older" and somehow Louis was never able to understand what they all meant.

Louis' life was quite fucked up; from his life at home to the life at school. Sometimes not even cigarettes were helping anymore, his hands were still shaking and his vision was still blurry, the lighter wasn't able to bring much more light into his life and neither did it warm anything up except for the end of the cigarette.

He knew that his dad passed away because of being a chain smoker and eventually developing lung cancer. But Louis also knew that he was a lovely man and kind, he made his mother happy. Louis had just few memories of his dad, but he did remembered his dad making him fly but always catching him in the end, that one time when he taught him how to swim and gave his son this incredibly proud smile and said "Good job".

Sometimes Louis wished his dad would just come back and save his mother from drowning in paper work and stress, to just take her hand and lead the way because she was simply lost. He wanted him to come back and hug all of his sisters and kiss them on the top of their heads and tell them that "Mommy's fine, it will be okay".

Most of all, he just wished for a hug or a ruffle through his hair and the words "You got this, you're strong and you can be proud of yourself".

In moments like these, Louis remembered Matt Haig, then he remembered very few words that gave this small spark of hope and no matter how hard he tried to hold on, somehow it always slips away. You will one day experience joy that matches this pain.

Louis wondered many times what the joy of life is. Was it something big that every kid wished for; money, being famous? Somehow it never added up. How could money make one happy? Small papers with the Queen's face and a number on it, a high number on the bank account and walking into shopping stores only celeberities could afford.