Lunatic- Larry Stylinson

Chapter 18

These cells were the most secure there, by anyones standards. Walls made of stainless steel, reinforced with concrete. The cell was hardly six feet by four. The walls were the same thick grey stone as the rest of the place, no windows either. You would have no idea how much time had passed, or if it was night or day. Given enough time, a person could forget their own name in there. The bed was a slab of concrete, no mattress, no cushioning, no blanket. It was either suffocatingly quiet or piercing with the screams of tortured inmates from across the block. 

Ten minutes after the morning shift had begun, screams are layered one on top of the other, a gruesome choir of pain to his ears.

And hearing the fear in another beings voice, reflected the fear in his heart. The fear he had lost, the one true person he cared about. All over a stupid mistake. 

Much like loosing your pencil case at school. That kind of stupid mistake. 

And it was stupid, stupid indeed. Stupid of him to let himself let go so easily. He just kept falling in love with Louis, and each time was harder than the last. And every time, the feeling got deeper, more complete, more real. And the realisation, the sheer sound of the screams, told him, that if he were Louis, he'd run. Run and never look back. Because who wants to love a psychopath right? And if this cell he was sat in was anything to go by, he's certainly some kind of monster. 

He wished, hour after hour, that Louis would burst straight back through the door, but he didn't. And he wasn't sure how long he'd been in the cell, a week- he thinks. But the more he stares at the walls, the more he wishes they would just disappear. 

"Styles!" 

Harry snapped his head up, his thoughts drifting away from him, and into the mist of the crisp cold air. 

Before he could retaliate, the guard was sticking handcuffs on him, dragging him out the cell door and away from the cell. 

"Where- where- how long was I down there? Where's Louis?" 

"10 days." 

"Wh-Lou.." He whispered to himself. 

As he walked down the block of screaming inmates, he could only tell himself he was letting himself be labelled as mental. Was he really? He couldn't be, right? He's not screaming, he has normal feelings, normal behaviour, normal...he was normal, okay. These people were what insane folks looked like, not him. 

Most definitely not. 

He wouldn't let this place make him feel insane. Not for himself, but for Louis. 

"Where'd the handcuffs go?" 

"Lo- my therapist took them off." 

"Mr. Tomlinson had no authority to do that." 

"He had the keys! They gave them to him." Harry interjected. 

"Still, i'll have to report it." 

"No! No, you won't. 

"Styles, move along." 

"No." 

"Move." 

"Don't shove me! You're not gonna get Louis into any trouble right?" 

"He will get a warning, hardly that." 

"No, he can't. He's good at his job, please I-" 

"Save it for the warden Styles." 

"What no!"

"Move. Now or you'll go back in that cell." 

~