The Mad Ones (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter Five - Understand More

            I’d never truly been alone before. When I was in the Mad House there had always been nurses and inhabitants to accompany me. Before my accident everything was normal, and I usually had a family member by me. Now the thought of leaving me alone was odd.

            Yet, there I was, all alone. I had always felt like a small part of me was always alone, but now it was true. Alice was alone, and no one was worried about the matter except for her. I was worried that some monster inside me would take over and cause me to storm out of the house, and attack some innocent bystander. I knew there was no such thing as the ability to read minds, but somewhere, somehow somebody did, because a knock rang through the house, and a face peeked through the glass on the side of the door.

            Gemma’s brother was here.

            He was early.

            I was screwed.

            “I take that back, I like being alone,” I hissed under my breath, looking up at the ceiling. “If there is a god you’re going to make that kid leave,” I continued, my eyes drilling holes into the top of the house. I flitted my eyes to the door, and I still saw a boy there. “Ok,” I muttered, “let’s try another religion. Zeus, want to strike a thunder bolt onto him?”

            No answer.

            “Well, let’s hope the French have one hell of a religion,” I thought out loud, slipping off my stool in the kitchen, and smoothing down my shirt. The boy, Harry, knocked again, and I felt my legs carry me to the door.

            I’m French. I’m a medical student. I’m sane. I’m normal.

            I chanted these thoughts like they were my only thoughts.

            Je suis français. Je suis un étudiant en médecine. Je suis sain d'esprit. Je suis normal.

            I then translated my mantra in what was supposed to be my native language. It may have been right, it may have been wrong, but whatever the correct translation, I still opened that door.

            Greeted by not one, but two boys.

            “Bonjour,” Harry said with a smile as I opened the door. I nodded and scooted back, repeating his greeting. I was tempted to ask who the boy was with him, but I doubted that French Alice knew English well enough to ask. “Is Gemma here?” he asked slowly, skeptical if I would answer. I gulped and moved back further as he set his luggage down next to the old lamp that Gemma constantly complained about.

            I shook my head no, “No.” That was one word that was practically the same in every language. Rejection was the same in every language, but saying yes wasn’t as easy. Harry nodded and be noticed that I had been looking at his friend who was standing uncomfortably behind his friend.

            “This is Louis,” he announced, and I fought the urge to scream out in frustration; Louis was a French name, and if he was French I was in trouble because I’m not so sure how my translations were. “Il est Louis,” he said, introducing him in French just in case I didn’t pick up what he was saying.

            “Um … hey, bonjour” Louis greeted with a little wave of his hand, and I let out a little laugh. He obviously didn’t know French, and that washed a wave of relief over me. The need for impeccable French was gone; one less thing to worry about with two people whom I didn’t know, and who didn’t know me.

            I gave them both a weak smile, and fiddling with the bottom of my sleeves. It may have been just a slot of discomforting silence for them, but for me it was time to collect my thoughts and figure out to stay away from two people while one of their sister’s was out.