Silence

12

Warning. This chapter can be triggering!

My therapist manage to make me feel less nervous about meeting Louis' family, assuring me that he wouldn't have asked me if he didn't want me to meet them. About the initial meaning behind my trip, no one would be able to calm me, but I know it's a demon I have to face. We talk a lot about the reactions I might have and how to handle them. I know she's worried about me but she's also supportive of my decision.

Niall lends us his car. Louis just tells him that he wants to take me home to Doncaster to meet his family. Niall grins happily. He looks so excited and I feel a little bad for him. He thinks that something is going on between Louis and me. Something more than friendship. Sometimes I think the same but that's just wishful thinking. I would never act on my feelings. I don't want to lose his friendship.

We get going. Louis drives. He sings along to the radio and I bop my head to the beat. It's a four-hour drive and we can't really talk since Louis has to keep his eyes on the road instead of watching me sign. I hadn't thought about that. I guess it feels like I'm talking when I'm with Louis because he always understands me. He speaks my language. Hearing him sing makes me wanna sing too but I can't. I open my mouth a couple of times but I freeze. I don't mind listening to Louis sing though. He has the voice of an angel. I sign that quickly while we wait at a stop sign and he smiles happily. Looks a little shy. I love him.

We have a great drive even if we don't talk much. I just enjoy his company. Feeling the connection we have.

My mood changes when we're getting close to the place I spent sixteen years of my life. Sixteen happy years that ended in travesty. My breathing increases. Pressure over my chest. Anxiety. Panic.

Louis glances at me. Pulls to the side of the road and stops the car. He puts a hand on my arm.
"Harry. Breathe. You're going to be okay. Do you want me to turn around? We don't have to do this."

I shake my head fiercely.
"Keep driving. We're doing this." I sign. Trembling hands.

He hesitates briefly but he continues to drive. Soon I recognize my surroundings. The small town. My old high school. It's bittersweet. We stop outside the city hall. I get out of the car. Take a couple of calming breaths. Louis is by my side. Takes my hand. We walk inside. I'm here to pick up the key to my old home. Louis does all the talking. The lady handing us the key pities me. I can see it in her eyes.

We return to the car. I need a minute before we continue. I guide him to my old house. My heart is beating so fast.

My old street is coming up. I grab Louis' hand. Holds it in a tight grip.
"Okay?" He asks quietly.

I nod my head. I'm not okay. I gasp when I see it. The house I grew up in. Louis parks the car. I just sit there staring at it. It doesn't look like a home anymore. The flowers my mother so tenderly nurtured are no longer there. The paint on the house is peeling off. The window the man crashed to get inside is still broken. I'm shaking by now.

I don't notice Louis' worried eyes on me. The house is hypnotizing me. I have to see it. I get out of the car. Louis hurries to get out as well. I pick up my phone and take a picture of the exterior of the house. My heart is heavy. I feel a hand in mine. I look down. Louis' petite hand is holding mine. Grounding me. Supporting me. I give him a shaky smile before I walk up to the house. He hands me the key and I unlock the front door just as I used to every day after school.

The door swings open. Protests. Squeaky sound. I take a deep breath and step inside. It smells dusty. Uninhabited.

I find the light switch. The light bulb actually works. The room bathes in light and I gasp. It looks the same. Everything is still there. Our furniture. Our home. It's dusty but someone must have cleaned it after it happened. There's no blood on the floor. No dirty dishes in the sink.

I realize I'm crying. I walk over to the photo frames that cover the small section of the wall next to the staircase. Me and my sister. Babies to teens. Every school photo. Covered in a layer of dust. Memories of a happy childhood.

I look over at Louis. He's crying too. I wipe the dust from one of my sister's pictures. Gemma. Smiling to the camera.

I continue into the kitchen. I point at a spot in front of the broken window.
"My dad was there. He tried to stop the man who broke in but he had an ax. The doctors told me later that he died quickly so at least he didn't suffer."

Louis cries but he doesn't say anything. I walk around in the kitchen. Touch old familiar things with my fingertips. Louis holds my hand. I continue to the living room. Memory flashes of evenings with my family in front of the tv come over me. Me and my sister bickering. My mum telling us to keep quiet and watch the movie. More pictures. My parent's wedding photo on the wall. They look happy. The blanket my mum always wrapped around her is still neatly folded on the armrest of the couch. I cry. Louis hugs me.

I manage to calm down enough to keep going. Downstairs bathroom. Towels are still hanging on a rack. My parents' toothbrushes are still in a cup on the sink. Why hasn't anyone cleaned out the house? It's spooky. I open the cabinet. Pick up my mum's perfume and smell it. Tears are streaming down my face by now.

I know where I have to go next. I open my parents' bedroom. The bed is still unmade. The carpet is stained. Her blood. They have tried to wash it away but it's still there. Faintly.
"My mum was laying here on the floor." I sign. Point.

I glance at Louis. Blue eyes meet mine. He looks so sad. Shocked. I look away. I have to get through this. I take him upstairs after that. Peek inside the bathroom. My old toothbrush is next to my sisters. I turn away. Walk over to her room. I embrace myself before I open the door. A deep sob emerges. I put a hand over my mouth. It looks the same. Posters of boy bands on the walls. A pile of clothes on the chair. The mattress is gone from her bed though.
"Gemma was killed there, on the bed." I inform him.

The wallpaper behind the bed is removed. Bloodstains. I sob uncontrollably. I have to get out of there. I rush back to the hallway. I try to breathe. I can't. Panicking.

Hands cupping my face. Blue eyes looking into mine.
"Breathe Harry."

He breathes with me. In and out. Caresses my hair. Holds me. I want to get out of here but there's still one room I have to see. Mine. I take his hand and walk over. Open the door and step inside. The room is spinning. He puts an arm around me. Steady me.

I look around the room. My old guitar is in a corner. Band posters. Old CDs. All the things I loved. Normal teenage stuff. My eyes fall on my closet. I walk over and open it. There are no clothes. I took them with me. The only thing I brought. My eyes fall on the closet floor. The spot I sat on when I listened to my family get killed. I cry again. He holds me.

I'm ready to leave. This is not a home anymore. It's just a reminder of what I lost. My family. My innocence. My childhood. My voice. Myself.

My eyes fall on the guitar in the corner and I pick it up. I decide to take it with me. I open a drawer in my dresser and take out a photo album. I don't know if I want to look at it but I can decide that later. I take one last look around the room before I head back down. I walk into the living room. Pick up the photo albums there as well. Louis points at the wedding picture of my parents and I nod my head. He takes it down.

I gather all the pictures I can find. Then I walk into the kitchen and find my mum's receipt book. I take that too. I give the house one last sweeping look before we leave. We put everything in the back seat and then I break down. Louis holds me. Whispers soothing words. Cries with me. I love him.