Stockholm Syndrome

Broken Glass

Hello my lovelies =3 it's been a while hasn't it? I hope there are still people who are reading this story... I have been off wattpad for about a month. I feel as if I owe you guys an explanation for my mini hiatus. As most of you know I'm a sophomore in college and that means that I'm always crammed with homework (even though we don't really call it that in college- if you want to pass your classes you put in the effort and that means hours of reading your textbooks). I find the time to write because it's something that I've really come to enjoy. I'm certainly not the best author out there, but that's not why I write. It makes me happy when you guys tell me that you enjoy my story or that I'm an awesome writer, but the truth is that I'd write even if my cat was the only to one to ever read it. You readers who support me obviously know that I've been lucky enough to get 3.5k views! THAT'S MORE THAN I EVER IMAGINED (I am excited to see how far my story can go =3). My family is another huge source of inspiration and support. I've not seen my family (mom, dad, sister, brother, and pets) for over 5 months due to the fact that my college is 15 hrs away from home. Christmas break was the first time since I left the airport that I've been able to see them (in person- we skype) in 5 months!!! It's been so great to spend almost a month back home (I think I can finally understand how 1D felt when they couldn't see their families for so long- drives you a little crazy that you can't hug them or be there just sitting together watching netflix). I've been lazy with the updates, but spending time with my family is a priority over updating- I'm just being honest. I'm back to regular updates now though, so please keep voting/commenting/reading/sharing my work.

If you took the time to read all this... thanks a million and you deserve a chapter dedicated to you. Also, if you have suggestions I'll take e'm!

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"Mr. Horan?" Detective Watson's voice floated from somewhere nearby. "Is everything alright Mr. Horan?"

I felt too weak to answer Watson's question. My body was shaking and my grip on the rubbish bin was so tight that my knuckles were starting to turn white. How could he ask me if I was okay? It was very obvious that I wasn't okay, hell I wasn't anywhere near being 'okay'. I felt another wave of nausea hit me with the realization that one of my best friends was probably dead because of me... I closed my eyes tightly as I threw up yet again.

I heard the door to Detective Watson's office click open and heard footsteps echo into the hall. I heard him say something to a woman, but their words were lost to me as I shakily tried to move into a sitting position. It was a bad idea on my part, because as soon I moved I got sick again. Fucking fantastic, I was stuck huddling over a rubbish bin and I couldn't even move to try and get to a restroom to clean up. On another note Ed was probably dead... and it was my fault.

"Mr. Horan I think it would be best if we continued our conversation a little later. I understand that this case may discuss some sensitive information and that you may need some time to process it. I've arranged to have you stay at a safe-house here in town with Officer Sherman and Officer Rhodes as escorts. We'll have a chance to talk again tomorrow about your case. I've reached out and contacted some of your people from management so they should get in touch with our department soon," Watson explained as Officer Sherman and a woman, I'm assuming Officer Rhodes, walked into the room.

I gave a slight nod of my head in understanding. I still felt sick to my stomach, but my head had stopped spinning, for now. I didn't trust that I wouldn't get sick the moment I tried to move again... though as the two Officers approached me I knew I wouldn't have a choice.

"Feeling better I hope," Sherman smiled sympathetically as he placed one of his strong arms around my waist to help support me.

"Of course he is, he got away from a terrible situation," Rhodes muttered under her breath as she came around to my other side and offered her hand to me. I accepted it gratefully. "Want us to bring the trashcan just in case?"

I nodded again the two of helped me up, causing my stomach to churn slightly at the sudden movement. "Might need it again," I mumbled dryly. My voice was dry and my throat burned from throwing up. I wanted to drink some water, but I was too afraid to ask for any because I didn't want my stomach to reject it and turn on me again. For now anyway it seemed like a better idea to just wait until we got to the safe-house.

We slowly made our way out the same way we'd come in to Detective Watson's office. Officer Rhodes had left Sherman with me to wait at the front of the station while she went to get the car. I was really grateful that we didn't have to walk all the way to the other side of the parking lot.

The drive over to the safe-house was quite similar to my trip to the station. I sat in the back inside a wire box and the officers sat in front. Officer Sherman made several attempts at small talk, and I gave halfhearted answers for the sake of politeness. It was a kind gesture, probably one made to lighten the grave mood that I'd unintentionally created in the car, but my mind was drifting down too dark a path to even try and fake any genuine interest. The only major difference from the ride before was that earlier I'd felt confident that I could change Lou and I's situation and now I felt as if every ounce of that confidence had been taken from me. It felt like all my hope had been melted down and formed into a fragile crystal vase made of the thinnest glass, and that it had been carelessly tossed aside on the floor, shattering into a million pieces. There was no way to fix the damage.

After a few more failed attempts to start a conversation that would stick the car remained silent for the rest of two hour drive.

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QUESTION OF THE DAY: How are you coping with boy's break so far? (I was going to ask about New Year's resolutions, but I thought about it for a moment and realized that I might steal some of your coping mechanisms instead to help get over that we don't get a MITAM tour this year)

As always all the love to my amazing readers who support me!

All the love,

xoxo

IndieChick95