21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XXXII. Compliance

compliance(noun): the action or fact of complying with a wish or command

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Noelle's POV

It felt like my mind was decomposing itself with every passing second the clock hung upon the bleak hospital wall ticked by. I could replay the whole scene, rewind it, and describe every scenario because from the moment I awoke to this new room this morning, that is all I had been doing.

The rotting smell of decomposing flesh was all I smelt, the tall forest trees that wreaked of a strong pine were all I saw, and the horrifying reminders of death walking so close to life was all I needed to remember to make it all feel so real again.

I'd be lying if I said I felt normal. There was something about me that wouldn't click back into place; like after a surreal moment and your heart thuds in your chest and your mind freezes as if you can't believe that frightening thing occurred - that was the feeling left lingering in my chest. It felt empty and hallow and... heavy all at once, as condescending as that sounds.

Like words were too much to think about or process, my mouth refused to let them out when my nurse came into the room with a tray in her hand and a sympathetic smile adorning her face.

She'd been checking up on me more than normal, and to say that I appreciated it would be a lie. I want peace, I want quiet, but most of all, I want to be left alone until I can feel through my fingertips again.

"Eat up,'' Nurse Becky tells me, some-what strict although she has been remotely sarcastic and witty ever since she was assigned to me. Every time the door to my room opens, I have to remind myself that I am safe.

But am I really? I wasn't safe at the museum like I thought I was. I wasn't safe at the hospital where Jeremy was staying. I will never be safe, so why build false hope up that one of these times, the killer won't walk right into my room and put a gun to my head - killing me once and for all?

I disregard the nurse as she excuses herself, the door clicking and signaling the lock they have put on it. My mind wanders elsewhere as my eyes dart to the tray of food. It doesn't appeal to me, so I turn my head back around and stare out at the cloudy sky.

The dark shades of grey and white swim in a pool of black as little specs of rain tap on the window. I watch. And I watch. And I watch. Basically, I watch until the sky can't be separated from clouds, but seen as a whole by nightfall.

Am I crazy? Am I ever going to get over this? Will I be okay? I'm not safe nor sure.

-

Last night was horrid.

Thunder clashed in the sky loudly and rain pelted heavily on the window. It wasn't this, though, that kept me from slumber. My eyes burned with exhaustion- mentally and physically- but I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

What if he came after me in my unconscious state? What if I couldn't escape it? No one is here to save me. These were the only voices speaking to me in the darkness of my room hours ago, and as my nurse had previously informed me, I have a special chat with my new doctor in less than ten minutes.

I awaited his arrival in doubt and shame, my hands fumbling with the thin sheets of my bed. All I've done my whole stay is sit here and stand by the window. I would crumple my body up and lace my hands around my knees - just staring at the wall so I could count the tiles and cracks without falling asleep.

"Miss Robinson,'' a voice speaks confidently from the corner of the room, making me jump in my spot. I look up to see his attire before darting my eyes back down to avoid eye contact. "I'm Doctor Mike Adams."