Dispirited (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

I was so done with life. Jason kept screaming, he drew violent things on the wall again that would make God think 'what the fuck did I create?' Not that he fucked anything up. I convinced myself at that moment that it'd be a good idea to call in a priest. The situation made everyone desperate enough to just lock the damn kid in the room. Though Linda, the vexatious woman, was against the idea. The fucking kid was gone mad and I gave up on all efforts to calm him down. Thankfully he's not my problem anymore, this overly kind, old nurse came in to help. I forgot her name so as soon as she came as an extra hand, I bolt out the stigmatize room, and vowed to myself to never handle 12 year olds. I've made a conclusion that Jason needed to be shipped to the fucked up American Horror Story asylum immediately. Dr. Arthur Arden sure wouldn't have a problem fixing him up.

"Fuck this motherfucking shit." I muttered to myself. The curses that continuously escaped out of my mouth were nothing new. I was frustrated, probably on my period at the moment since the last time I've had mother natures punishment was over 2 months ago. But that was normal to me. My body was just fucked up. If I don't have my period after a couple months, it comes back for a few weeks. One time it didn't come for half a year and that was back when I didn't know what was going on. I'd fainted in the shower and had to stay in the hospital for two weeks and it was unbearable, pure torture and I still go through that to this day.

Absolutely crazy and unfair, is what it is. Who would want blood rushing out of their vagina a week straight? No one. So it's pretty shitty having it for more. The fact that I had no one to punch ruined everything that originally was fine. This hospital has security guards at every corner, cameras and all. No one could get away with that shut, but I don't doubt that I could.

Jason. That cute bastard. His personality destroys his purity, demolishes it. How can something so little do such things that even my grandmother wouldn't dare to do. The things he drew were etched into my brain, constantly replaying that scarring scenario in my head, over and over and over... I was too wearily to reword every detail one by one and I didn't feel the need to. The images were from someone not in their right mind, someone seeking for help desperately, someone who wanted to be saved before falling from the cliff and into the deep waters where swimming wasn't possible. It was like that one movie, where the devil person would yell and shit in another language. Or maybe it was all movies. But Jason was repetitively screaming "he's coming, he's gonna come and he gonna kill every single one of us." The marks were still in my tanned forearms, the lethal marks were an angry red. He was crying, I have no idea why, but his innocent brown eyes were filled with tears and it made my heartless heart ache. Jason was scared of something, of course that was obvious. The poor 12 year old was screaming and jumping and crying everywhere that he didn't hear our worried questions or feel our panicked touches.

Dr. Marons words were constantly etched into my brain, 'watch over him like a hawk.' So I had to go back to Louis' room, they've got a damn vivid story coming their way. I wasn't looking forward to this for some odd reason.

'I just lived through one of the most fucked scenarios in all the existence of fucking life. Give me a damn Oscar and I'll forgive all.'

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Louis was gay.

I discovered that as soon as I entered the room. He was looking at an account on Twitter that had over one million followers where gay porn gifs were all that they posted. One million followers. I just had to be the one to find him scrolling vigorously through his iPhone. Milan was an oblivious fuck as ever. I was teasing Louis until he finally spit out the truth.

"Yes, I like dick. Yes I've had anal sex and loved it. Yes I am fucking gay and proud."

My face stayed neutral. He could've just stated that he was gay, not all this other shit.

"Too much information, please never talk to me again. I will never look at you the same after what you've just said." I joked, but honestly I was excited. Another gay friend! Not necessarily a friend but I wouldn't get too close to him. Gay people are what I live for, their probably one of the most strongest and bold humans on this planet. They had courage and that's all that mattered, if they can confess something like that and not regret it, or be ashamed for some apparent reason because this world judges everything that should be left alone, then of course it's something to be proud of.

"Did you just move here?" I questioned the beautiful being.

"Yes actually, a few weeks ago. I'm staying in a hotel with my mates. Well I was, until this shit happened."

"You haven't found a place to stay? A flat or anything?"

"Unfortunately no, we've checked everywhere and there's no flats or houses on sale."

"Well shit," I breathe. "I would help you, I'm sure I could be used as distraction or some shit, just run while I seduce the front desk dude and steal some keys, but I'd rather not have sex with a guy old enough to be my great grandfather." It wasn't the best idea in the house, but if there's nothing available then I can't really do anything about it. Well I could, but the effort of going through that... Just makes me cringe.

Lazy arse.

"It's fine," the blue eyed boy smiles genuinely at me. "We'll find some place eventually." We were both quiet for a minute, Milan was watching Louis intently while a determined expression sat on his face. What could he possibly arranging? It was hard to read his face, which was void from almost any emotion.

"Who else moved here with you?"

"Just me and my two mates."

"Their British too I hope?" Milan was speaking like an interviewer, by the way Louis rolled his eyes, I was sure he felt the same.

"Of course you dumb fuck!" Lou exclaimed, throwing his arms up in mock frustration.

I couldn't help but wonder if Louis' friends appearances were similar to his. Did they have tattoos? A badass vibe perhaps? Or would they end up as goody two shoes that cried over losing a plastic friendship ring? That seemed impossible, how could someone like Louis want to hang out with a wimp? I sure know I wouldn't, I'm not in London to feel secure or some shit. I was here to piss on people's lawns, get high all the damn time, make everyone rip out their hair cause of me. Not play a lame ass ding dong ditch game with the neighbours. Fuck no. The reason I moved here with my 4 best mates is because life was fucked in the head, and the only way to escape was run away to a city where no one I hated knew me. Sadly, news that I moved to London spread like wild fire. I wasn't a criminal, fuck no, my easily controlled temper helped with that. Being a 20 year old punk girl with blue dreads and 74 tattoos apparently meant trouble. People outside the hospital acted as if I was an axe murderer and would chop you into pieces whether your blanket was there to protect you or not.

"Is this real?" Louis snapped me out of my thoughts, lightly tugging on my dreads.

"Of course it is." I gave him a 'are you fucking kidding me' look, he raised his hands up in defence.

"Can you even dye it if it's dreaded?" All these fucking questions, I was about to burst, but held it in for the sake of Louis' heart rate. If he gets a heart attack, I would run out yelling 'Milan! You fucked up!' "Yeah, but your hair will get fucked up and shit."

"And shit," he mocked. "Dye my hair red for me?" Louis pouted while Milan let out a "you're a crazy mother fucker if you trust that bitch." To which I shoved a classy middle finger in his face, only to have him lick it playfully.

"Your friendship is fucked up," the girly voice echoed around the room while the blue-eyed boy stared between us in disbelief. "Can I join?"

"Once you go black, you never go back." Milan commented, distracted by a fly, with a childish nod. "Dipshit, staring at it won't do shit," he snorted. "And what the fuck does that have to do with this?" Louis snarls, his eyes confused and angry by the fact that whatever we say can and will never make sense to anyone.

"Sassy," I glared harshly. "It means, once you meet us, you can never undo it. Hope you have no regrets child, you're in for a wreck."

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Authors Note:

Thank you for reading ! Please if you have time, vote and comment and stufffff . Tell us what you think , what you liked , what you think will happen ... It encourages us alotttttt.

Thank youu💜 M&M x