Letters (A Dark Louis Tomlinson Fanfic)

Chapter 1

*Edited on 23/07/14*

I'M EDITING THIS BIT BY BIT SO IF YOU FINISH A CHAPTER AND GO ONTO THE NEXT ONE AND IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE OR FIT THE STORYLINE, IT'S BECAUSE I HAVEN'T EDITED IT YET.

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A/N: I worked really hard on this, so I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! 

5 votes and 3 comments for next update?:) It only takes a second and it makes my day!:D

~L
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*Trinity’s PoV*

As I stood in the middle of my room, I let the satchel that had been hanging from my shoulder fall to the floor with a soft ‘thud’, and began to walk slowly towards my desk, all the while keeping my eyes focused on the drawer. That one drawer. The drawer that I had locked with a key and swore never to open again; the drawer that contained the urges I swore I would never give in to.

I sighed as the squeals of today at school echoed inside my head, as girls discovered yet another Valentine’s card in their lockers, reminding me that I was, yet again, boyfriend-less for Valentine’s day.

I was confused. I was supposed to be the girl that depended on no-one. I was supposed to be the girl that kept to herself. But I knew deep inside that I wasn't. I wasn’t supposed to care that I was single. I wasn’t supposed to care that all my friends had boyfriends. But I did.

As I reached the edge of the mahogany, I reached out, trailing my fingers along the edge of the old desk that jutted out above the drawers. As I reached down and ran my fingers over the handle of that one drawer, I felt my heart rate increase and I could feel the adrenaline start to flow. It was as if the fact that it was forbidden was drawing me in.

I closed my eyes, debating my next actions. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop now. Reaching into the bottom drawer, I pulled out the old, rusty key and twirled it around in my hands for a few seconds. It didn’t take long before I had opened that one drawer and saw my secrets in front of my eyes.

Paper. Sheets of paper. Ten, twenty, maybe more; each filled with my feelings and opinions. Filled with the stuff I never told anyone because I always felt like it didn’t matter, like I wasn’t supposed to be expressing how I felt. Whenever I told someone about my feelings, it felt like I was betraying something, or someone, I’m not sure which. So, of course, it felt wrong writing all my feelings down onto pieces of paper where anyone could read them. I know it sounds strange, but it was just... me.

But that wasn’t the reason I swore never to open the drawer again. Not only were they pieces of paper, they were something more. They were letters. Once there was an address on the top corner of the paper, it was no longer something silly and personal, it was something you were telling somebody else. Something you were revealing.

And the worst part was that each of these letters were addressed to the same person. Not someone I knew, exactly, but rather someone I hoped I would one day know; ‘Mr.Perfect’. It had all started when I felt lonely. I began imagining my dream guy, and how he would help me to open up and relax, and one thing led to another and soon enough I was stowing these letters to 'Mr.Perfect' in that one drawer.

I had picked an address at random, some made-up list of words scrawled messily in the top corner. It just made it feel like someone was listening to my problems, like someone was there for me. I had never really felt that before.

As I stood there, flicking through the pile of letters, something came over me. I don’t know what, but a wave of anger and jealousy crashed into me as the memories of school today came flashing back; all the girls receiving multiple Valentine’s cards and cuddling their boyfriends while I wandered, unnoticed, through the halls.

In that moment, I felt my legs begin to move. It was like clockwork, each step taking me out of my room and further towards my front door. It was as if I was numb. I could hear the calls of my mum asking where I was going, but for some reason I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t find my voice. It was like I was trapped in a robot’s body.

My heart quickened as I realised where I was headed. I knew this couldn’t end well, but I was helpless. By the time I could do anything about it, the deed was done.

I had handed the letters to the postman that had been walking past me on the path; and the letters were gone....

To some made-up address.

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