Twenty-Nine Dolls [H.S. AU]

11. Callie - 2012

"the scars on your wrist bring no tears, 

instead they settle all your fears"

2012

The way my hips swayed from side to side, my head bobbing up and down, my hands clapping to the beat of the music. Adrenaline corrupted my veins in a way nothing else ever did in my life. I wanted this perpetual slow motion to last forever.

I didn't know who the artists were or what the song was called, but all I did know was Mr. Styles' great-grandmother had an impeccable taste in music. I cried out with the lyrics of the music, feeling the music wrapping around me, my hair cascading over my eyes every now and then at the intensity of my moves. I was never and never will be a good dancer but, hell, did I enjoy it. 

The strength of the gramophone was nothing compared with the speakers I had in my bedroom but it was great none the less. I needed something like this. Every now and then, Harry would come to the bedroom and slam his hands on the door, crying out for me to turn it down. 

But would I listen? Of course not. 

He brought me to this world of hell, he had to let me have this bit of heaven. After many attempts and threats, he gave up and let me be with this song that was probably replaying for the past few hours.

It made me laugh how I wasn't scared of his threats anymore. It made me cry how little I cared about whether or not I died today or tomorrow. It made me confused how little meaning my life had right now. But in this moment, I didn't have the will to think. I just let the beat drive.

Staggering back against the bed, I came to lay back and stare at the ceiling. My hands were still moving with the beat of the music, my torso squirming from side to side. I sigh tumbled from my lips, exhausted from the dancing. Reluctantly, I moved over to turn the music off which followed with a roar, "Well thank God for that!" Mr. Styles shouted causing me to giggle. His footsteps became louder and louder until he unlocked the door and he stood with a spanner in hand. My eyebrows were raised at his choice of arrival but he waved me off anyway. "You've been listening to that garbage for about three hours now. Are you not tired of it?"

"Nope, I could listen to it for another three if I wanted to. I'm tired of dancing, I'm sweating like a pig." I laughed, sitting up, "Harry, I'm really hungry." I admitted to him, waiting for my stomach to grumble to confirm the statement.

"What would you like?" He asked, leaning against the frame.

"Anything apart from the soup. I'm sick of it."

"Well, that's because that's the only thing I could feed you." He shrugged, "How do you feel about sandwiches? What type?" 

"Any, I'm not fussed and I have no allergies," I said.

"Okay, I'll be back in 15 minutes."  He nodded and walked away into the corridor. Throwing myself back onto the bed, I analysed the carvings on the wall. There must be a life more than this. I couldn't imagine every day to be groundhog day like this. What was given to me was surviving not living, there was a distinct difference. Despite the care and compassion, I was being flooded with, I was sure that I was going to drown one of these days - it was inevitable. 

But how to get away...? That was my main concern. 

There was nothing that I could see around me. There was an air vent but that was too small for me to fit through. Plus, was I that desperate?

Yes. Yes, I was.

I sat up quickly. Visualising my parents painfully suffering through my absence, there was no other option. I walked towards the chest of drawers and looked at it, I had felt a gentle breeze tickling my ankle earlier, there must be something hidden from me here. Pulling the chest to the side, I saw something I couldn't believe. A crack, big enough for me to fit my hand through. Testing it and my luck as well, I pulled on a loose bit of brick, watching how it easily came undone. 

Abruptly, Mr. Styles' footsteps increased in volume causing me to hurriedly put everything back in place and launch onto the bed. My heart racing double, triple, quadruple the pace of his feet. Screwing my eyes shut, I breathed steadily to decrease suspicion. "Here you are!" He cheered, placing the plate down with a distinctive 'clink'. He came closer and closer until I could feel his presence above me. I wanted to open my eyes but I couldn't. I knew a way out of here. I knew how to get to safety. I was certain that if I was to open my eyes, guilt would flood my veins causing me to chose to be kept captive.

"I'm not Medusa, Callie. You can look at me." He whispered, hurt dripping off every word. Reluctantly, one eye opened, my shoulders dipping into the bed as he hovered over me, his hands pressing on the bed on either side of my face. His minty breath coated my face as he spoke, his evergreen eyes staring into mine, "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Was all I could manage to say as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Burying my head into the crook of his neck, I could feel him tense at my touch but he relaxed after a moment or two.  "Thank you for everything. I understand all you're doing is for the best-"

"It's fine, Callie. I understand why you wouldn't appreciate it but I'm glad you do now." He rubbed the length of my back before moving away to look at me properly, "Now will you eat and drink?"

"I will survive."

--A/N--

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