Louis' POV
I think I'm sick. And I don't mean in a cold, sore throat and running nose kind of way but in a what the fuck is going on with me kind of way. It's freaking me out how I just wake up and just kind of stay in my bed for a little while longer than I should. Like I mean it seems like that's a normal thing. Sometimes people are still very exhausted and they just contemplate all of their plans in their head for the day, wondering if they should continue on doing their life thing or just go back to sleep for an extra hour. However, I never do that. Well at least not as often as I've been doing recently.
I just wake up, sometimes even before my alarm and I just look at the ceiling and think about nothing and it feels kind of good. Usually when I wake up, I just slump out of my bed already pissed and I groan as I think about all of the crap I have to do for that day like interviews and dealing with fans and so on. But not anymore really. I just stare up and I think about what's happening at the moment which I rarely do anymore.
I look at the ceiling and I acknowledge its existence. I hold on to the covers and I remember that they're there and that I'm lying down still on a mattress and I didn't stress about it really until, Niall even begun to notice.
"Why have you been awake so early lately, Tommo?" He asked one day.
I shrugged and was looking down at the set list in my hand, my tongue rubbing against the roof of my mouth for some reason.
"Are you like, you know, depressed or something?"
His question had taken me completely off guard. My eyes quickly had left the paper with my life written in a few words and I stared at him.
I didn't know how to respond really.
Was I depressed? Is this how depression feels? Do people who are depressed just look at the ceiling in the morning? Is that how this whole thing works?
A bunch of questions were taking over my mind and I just answered with a, "I don't know." before he gave me some concerned Niall look and walked off.
I thought about that the rest of the day, gaping at my phone in thought as I pressed Winnie's contact. Winnie has depression or had or, I'm not really sure, so I wanted to ask her how it felt and if it seemed like I had it. However, again, I don't know how that whole depression process works or feels so I didn't really want to make her uncomfortable and besides, it might be too personal. Then I thought about, Harry and the scars all over his skin. He seemed as if he was depressed.
I mean he hurt himself but do you have to hurt yourself to be considered depressed or is that just like an extra thing like a side order of shitty fries to go along with your shitty hamburger from some fast food joint that smells like piss and cheap floor cleaner.
Did, Winnie ever hurt herself?
I shook my head, not really wanting to think of that possibility.
It would piss me off if she did and not because I would be mad at her for doing that but that I would be mad at everyone for not making the world good enough for her.
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Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Book 3, ✉Winnie isn't one for drama, for fame, for attention. She enjoys water droplets, bad movies, dirty jokes, her two best friends, weeds, and just things that make her feel average. She always speaks her mind, but not physically sin...