Abditory [H.S]

67

^^^THIS WAS A DOUBLE UPDATE, MAKE SURE TO READ CHAPTER 66 BEFORE THIS.^^^^

Trigger warning: panic attack, violence, and blood.

In case u lot forgot:

Louis Tomlinson: 20 y/o

Zayn Malik: 21 y/o

Luella Jones

Quietness.

I've always loved the quietness, where actions take no part.

The darkness as your only friend, your shallow breathing barely heardable, the taste of your dry throat against your tongue while you stay quiet.

I loved that feeling.

The silence sophisticating the room, no scripts of loud noises accompaning me while I stay silent.

The silence under a six foot deep grave, the silence in the streets after midnight, the silence at the sea under the water, the silence at night when everyone else is sleeping, the silence in that old, louring house deep in the woods.

Silence.

I loved that silence.

Between the yelling, loud talking, glass shattering and ear-piercing cries, I grew up finding peace in that silence.

Oh, how much I loved that silence when I was young.

It was always there, no matter what time it was. Silence was always there for me during my worst, happiest days. It just never left me alone, and I was grateful for that.

I hate the silence now.

I hate the quietness around me.

The fact that the only sound coming is from my heavy pants annoys me. It makes me breathe harsher, faster, it clouds my body and chokes me with heaps of air. I hate that. I hate this. I want noise. I want someone to yell. I want some glass breaking. I want cries. I don't want the quietness nor the silence. It's too loud now.