Sanity

Chapter Twenty One

With each step I took after Harry the more my heart rate increased. I followed him like a lost puppy. I was always known for being a sheep, never a Shepard. He looked so angry. His glares shooting daggers at everything in his path. I hated how worked up he got over stupid things. I had barely known him two days and already I wanted to strangle him. We approached his room and I tugged my wrist from his grip. He wasn't taking advantage of being in power, holding authority over me. I wouldn't allow it. As he turned around his eyes met mine and I grew angry. Why was he always angry at me. I should, rightfully, be angry at him. But I was a coward, afraid of my own shadow, afraid to summon the Demon that was him, the Demon that frowned upon me but at the same time warmed my barely beating heart. His wrath enclosed the spaces around me until for once, I wasn't so alone. 

He stopped abruptly before reaching for the handle of the door, he turned to look and me and raised an eyebrow.

"Anything to say princess?"

He knew I couldn't stand up for what I thought was right, he was highlighting that I was the one that trapped myself, it was never anyone else. I couldn't blame my mother for hating me and I couldn't blame God for cursing me, for I was the problem, it was never anyone else and in that moment I knew, and he knew too, that slowly I was realising that my illness was self inflicted.

He grabbed my waist in one swift motion and slammed my body against the door.

"Why do you always insist on staying quiet? If you're not quiet you're screaming like a lunatic. Please learn how to use your words."

His voice was raised ever so slightly and once again the man had left me speechless. He knew he was in control and he loved it. I felt by skin begin to crawl as he pushed his body into my frame that was pressed tightly against the door.

"Now about that punishment."

I didn't understand but I didn't want to find out what he meant either, so with all my strength, I pushed down on the door handle and the door flung open. I fell to the ground and he caught himself just before he had the chance to stumble. He never had any emotion present on his face, his eyes would furrow from time to time and that would be it. He looked sternly at me as I quickly stood up. My heart rate was increasing drastically as I tried to explain to him that I didn't want to be punished and that I wanted to go home but I couldn't. The words got stuck in my throat and I felt the sweat start to gather on my forehead. But he would never understand my problem with speaking, and being unable to fend for myself. I couldn't control my breathing. I hadn't taken my medication I needed for all my problems, my body had been so used to them and I felt like I needed them to be able to even muster a small hello. I decided to do the only thing I know and that as to run. It was a stupid idea as I knew he would catch me, he was also standing in the door frame so I didn't see how I was going to get past him. The room we were in was small, just a small chest in the corner so I couldn't exactly get by him. I decided there and then to just try plough through him. Which was a stupid idea on my behalf but I was desperate. I ran at him. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me towards him and he didn't even flinch. He simply grabbed my waist and pressed me up against the wall. I couldn't take it anymore he was too close. I screamed. I screamed and I screamed until he finally let me go. I slid down the wall and I let out the few remaining tears that I had in me. He sat down beside me and patted my shoulder.

"Why do you always have to scream, maybe try use some words and then I might be able to get you what you want."

He was calm, usually he got angry and I hated it, but I wasn't so sure I liked him calm either. I couldn't explain to him that I couldn't speak and I couldn't tell him what I wanted because he got angry at me when I tried to do what I wanted. It was all a mess. I simply looked at him and he looked at me. I flinched when he tried to touch my shoulder again. He simply held his hands up in surrender.

"So what's your favourite colour?"

I had to do a double take to make sure the words were coming out of his mouth. I looked at him before looking at the ground and shrugging my shoulders.

"You don't know?"

I simply nodded my head. He quickly stood up and held out his hand I looked at it and looked at his face, he was looking at me like I had four heads so I diverted my gaze to the floor. I felt his rough hand grab mine and placed it in his outstretched hand. I simply looked at him as he pulled me up. His hands felt rough against my skin and the cool rings were slightly uncomfortable when he gave my hand a tight squeeze. He began leading me back down the hallway and he stood in front of the door. He took a key out from his back pocket with his hand that wasn't holding mine. When he unlocked the door he pulled me in and turned on the light. I peered around the room and noticed the easels lining the walls and the paint splattered all on the ground. He let go of my hand and went towards a chest of drawers in the far corner of the room. He took and easel from onto of the drawers  and placed it on a stand. The room was very organised and I liked it. I liked it a lot but again I stayed silent. I didn't want to burden him with my words. He slowly walked towards me.

"I want you to pick your favourite colours from them drawers over there and I want you to paint them onto that easel, using these brushes."

I simply looked at him, I was bewildered and I'm sure my face gave that away.

"Just do it."

He didn't raise his voice at me and I was glad. I didn't want to anger him and I didn't want to be punished either so I slowly walked over to the drawers. I began to look in the first drawer and I seen lines of paint tubes. All neatly lined up, going from light to dark. I was truly amazed. I turned around to look at him and he was looking at me, we made eye contact and my throat grew dry, he was a masterpiece. I finally began to inspect the paintings surrounding the room, they were amazing. Every painting held a different meaning almost. One that I didn't understand I wanted so badly to ask him if he painted them and why. I wanted to find out all about him, why he decided to let me come in here and why he was trying to help me, almost, but I couldn't. I simply went back to looking at the colours and trying not to just grab them all. I was still so curious about him and I knew I wouldn't be able to quench my curiosity so before I had the chance to go over what I wanted to say and make sure it was okay to say it, I uttered " What's your favourite colour?"

Please don't hate me I'm back for good now 😂 Also unedited so pls tell me if u see mistakes