Dispirited (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

Headache. A pounding feeling in my head and feet were doing everything to get the attention they wanted. I felt like death and probably looked like it too. A cramp took place in my stomach. I skipped breakfast - something I rarely do - because I was running late and one of my dogs pissed in the fridge somehow. So I had to clean that cause my lazy asshole of friends claimed they were busy doing other shit. The day has just started and I already dreaded what else was to come. I didn't want to come to this room. I was assigned this piece of shit room. An annoying patient, a shrill voice that made me want to bang my head against a tree trunk was all that was brought from this death-dealing room. This room contained a patient being none other than Louis motherfucking Tomlinson.

My head was about to explode, my cheeks flushed dark red in anger and I was just so done. It's been about a week since we've met. But it was a burden, no, that was a fucking understatement. He was infuriating me to the point where I had to leave the room before I purposely ripped out his stitches one by one he had in his chest. I'm sure he'd cry with his girly voice like the little bitch he is. A knife was in my hand that day when I entered the room once again, so infuriated that I was considering murdering my patient. "I'll fucking do it, you slut," I'd sworn. It was that bad, but I couldn't deny the expression on his angelic face caused me to actually pee my pants. All the way.  It was so embarrassing but when did I not embarrass myself? I wouldn't actually stab him, it was an empty threat, the only empty threat I'd made actually. A threat was a threat, if you didn't do what you'd announced, what's the fucking point of saying it in the first place? Useless.

Today seemed worse for me -Louis seemed worse in the maddening way of course. It wasn't exactly hard to antagonize me, but I rarely proclaimed that I was pissed off my ass. Never seemed to show on my blank, expressionless countenance I guess. Louis though, that fucking slut didn't find a point in my warning glares when it became too much. His stupid snide comments about the food they had were the only thing I could agree with. 'Atrocious, fucking brutal is what this shit is.' Everything else... Well, we agree to disagree. If I heard one more second of his irritating voice, I'd burst. But I'd rather not have a criminal record saying I was accused of murdering when my job was the complete opposite.

"Louis, fucking work with me before I chop your damn balls off." I hissed

"I'm fine,"

"I'll shove a fucking head down your throat I swear to-"

"Which head?" He smirked slightly. I've had enough of him, this was getting to the point of giving up, I pondered whether or not I should call his pitiful birth giver and announce to her in my fake despair voice that her bitch of a son (they should really change it to 'mother of a bitch') was murdered. It wouldn't be a lie, I'd actually do it after ending the call. Milan just had to talk me out of it, saying something along the lines of 'I'd be the only one who'd willingly cover a murder for you only cause you're my bitch, but if you actually do, you're done being my bitch.' I felt pity for the woman who raised this immature child,  she had to deal with his nasty ass for a while. I was positive she was wondering when his voice would deepen, when the high voice that could leave a dent in glass would leave. Why her child probably made girls run away to the other end of the Galaxy. The thought made me chuckle, images of hormonal fake blondes with faces filled with ten pounds of makeup that didn't match their colour came to my mind as they float away to the other end of nothing but darkness. But I was thankful? He was the life of this godforsaken hell hole. The only thing here to bring my amusement to full force and make me smile when the sound of the never ending beeping took place in one of the rooms. That sound I had to hear almost everyday, over and over and over while screams of terror and despair left their loved ones throats...

"Your head," I deadpanned, a nasty scowl on my face.

He finally realized how much he was getting in my nerves. His face softened and he looked down. "I'm sorry," Louis whispered. My face remained hard before I couldn't take it.

"So emotional Tomlinson, I just wanted you to work with me. No need to cry, little girl." I spoke sarcastically. "Athena stop," he whined. "Just do whatever you want with me." He sighs, defeated.

"I want you to get off your ass and start walking."

He slowly turned in his bed, raising his hand for me to take. "Help me?" He questions, bright eyes and all. "Course," I grin. His tight grip in my hand doesn't falter as his feet touch the cold ground. Louis has a proud smile on his face as he fully stands and takes his first step. "You go girl!" I cheer. He laughs as he continues to walk gradually, tight grip in my hand finally gone as Louis gets the hang of it. He only needed to start walking as his time in bed caused a numbing feeling in his legs and his knees would give out after a while of no exercise in his legs. Helping a patient with walking before they get released is necessary. If you don't do that, I don't know who the fuck taught you but they need to quit before they get into deep shit.

"It took almost five days of getting you to do this. That's fucking sad Louis."

"If I knew it was gonna be this, I would've done it the second you came to visit my sexy ass." He winked.

"You like dick," I remind him, unhesitant. "And I told you every time I threatened you -which was twenty eight by the way- that it was just a fucking walk." This was tiring, I was ready to go home, enjoy my beer and cuddle with my three dogs. That sounded ridiculous but when you really do it, it's better than sex, way better. I'd cuddle with animals over sex any day. Not that I hated sex, it was exhilarating. Being experienced made it so much better. I lost my virginity at 14, but can't seem to regret it. I wouldn't call myself a slut, no, it doesn't matter when you lose it or even if you want to lose it. Do whatever you please with your body. But I did find myself next to an unknown man in an unknown apartment almost every week. Sounds depressing, I know. Sadly, it always fails to fill the untenanted space in my heart.

"I need to go down somewhere," I trailed off, my mood instantly plummeting. I walk out the room before quickly realizing something.

"Press the red button if you need me." An artificial grin takes place on my face, something I mastered years ago. I hope he doesn't press it like he always does to provoke me. He nods his head understandingly at me, waving me off with a wink.

With that I walk off towards the elevator, it takes me down to the first floor and I enter the room my bag is always stored in. A cigarette pack is in my hand and I intend on using it all. It was brought today. Anything will work as long as it does its job of numbing me. Taking me away from the merciless place people call reality. Taking me away from this world I feel no use in. What does it mean to not survive? To just have that painful feeling of the reminder that you've done nothing in your life? To feel not wanted? Every negative emotion in my body stirs up, mixing all the venom together and creating the worst emotion of all.

Self-hatred.

I'm working there, step by step. I'm working on loving every bit of myself. It's still low. The love I feel for myself, it's hovering over the ground, I guess... 'To be able to fall in love with someone, you need to learn to love yourself, trust every bit of yourself into loving this man or woman.' My mother always said. But how? How can it seem so easy to do when you're down so low? Sure I don't believe in love, one day I will. I know I will. 'You just feel it and there's going to be no denying that powerful connectIon. It hurts, hell, it hurts like a bitch. Yet it's cures, you just feel filled and safe and content.' I always thought 'maybe just something temporary.' Hell no, for years I hadn't been cured from this sinful darkness. I'm trying to find my cure for fucks sake! I can't give up, if I lived through those years of bullying, self harm, self-hatred. Then I can fucking go through this bullshit. There will be a time where I'm out of the hell hole I call my mind, there will be a time where the emptiness of my heart will leave, and there will be a damn time when I will feel whole again.

There will be a time when I feel happy.