Stutter || Larry Stylinson

Chapter One

After the embarrassment in the classroom, Louis had rushed out into the halls, silently praying that he wouldn't have to deal with more crap from his peers. With every turn down a corner Louis took, he was more and more worried he was going to run into someone he'd rather not. For right now, he was done with getting the crap beaten out of him. He just wanted to get to lunch without unnecessary bruises on his body.

Someone like Louis shouldn't be used to being mistreated by people. He shouldn't be used to wincing when he walked, or hissing when someone like his mum hugged him. It wasn't something anyone should go through, but yet, Louis still went through things like that. And all over something he couldn't control.

When Louis was five years old, his stutter became something very prominent. He rarely spoke before then, but when his parents forced him to talk more so he could get into a good preschool. When the teacher had asked Louis to say his name, he stuttered out, "L-Louis-is." That was the end of that preschool, and every single other good preschool in the area.

When Louis had turned twelve and the stutter still wasn't gone, his parents sent him to speech classes, where he could hopefully learn how to control his stutter. But after only three weeks, the teacher of the class had already given up on him, saying that there was no way Louis could curve a stutter like that. That he might never be able to control something so serious.

Even though they said they never would be, Louis knew that his parents were embarrassed to have a son like him. He could see it in their eyes when he would come home, showing them his failed grade on an oral test or assignment. They would look between each other when they would see the red marked paper, and then they would give each other 'the look'. The one that showed how disappointed they were. His father's lips would go into a thin, flat line, and his eyes would turn hard, like stone. His mother's eyes would start to glaze over, like she was drunk, and her lips would turn down for a millisecond. But then they would plaster fake reassuring smiles on their faces, saying through locked teeth that they knew he tried his hardest.

They thought he could try harder.

Louis tried, with all of his might, to curve the stutter. He would bite his tongue every time he would stutter. He would pinch himself every time he felt the stutter coming on. Sometimes, Louis would even read out loud for hours and hours on end, smacking himself and scratching himself for each time he stuttered. But no matter what Louis would do, he couldn't go about a sentence without stuttering.

When Louis was in primary school, none of the kids ever made fun of him. No one had a reason to, at that age, everyone just wanted a friend to play with. They didn't care who it was. And everyone had something wrong with them, whether it be they were awkward or still picked their noses. Louis had so many friends, that he could barely keep up with all of them. But when Louis had made it out of primary school, everyone had grown out of their awkwardness and stopped picking their noses, and everyone who hadn't was deemed a loser. And that included Louis.

In those cheesy, romantic comedy movies, Louis would find friends within the loser groups. But even they didn't want anything to do with Louis. He wasn't a popular kid, an average kid, or a loser. This wasn't a movie. He was a freak among a bunch of people who had nothing better to do except label others.

For the most part, Louis had made it to the canteen without too much trouble. But, there was still a room full of hungry teenagers to deal with. And they weren't just hungry for food. They were hungry for attention.

Louis walked across the room, weaving through groups of people, dodging the few wads of paper thrown his way. He was used to this kind of stuff; having things thrown at him, people purposely running into him. Although, he was used to bigger things like textbooks being tossed and jocks bumping his shoulders, not paper and young, giggly, teenage girls. Although, it didn't matter how big you are, you can still have the anger of a drunk football player.