Imprisonment | Harry Styles

Chapter 2

Riley.

"Please don't touch anything," I heard one of the officers mumble from directly behind me. "This room is still under investigation for any missing evidence." He added.

All I could do was nod as I entered the room. The room that once shared happy, fun-filled memories, now meant nothing to me. It was impossible to even look at it the same. It was now full of sadness and depression, all colors gone to me.

My eyes scanned all over, noticing how nothing was the same. The books that were knocked off the bookcase, the unread newspaper that lay in the corner of the room, the still un-made bed sheets... Everything.

I dragged my feet across the floor, wanting to just collapse onto my knees and let everything out. That was until the tip of my shoe bumped something that was on the floor, my eyes instantly shooting downward. It was a pack of Marlboro cigarettes that lay on the ground. It baffled me, quite honestly. My eyebrows instantly crinkling together as my mind began tracing with thoughts.

Mom didn't smoke.

 I bent down onto my knees, staring at the small pack with about three or four cigarettes left inside it. My eyes burning with the tears that were begging to escape. As soon as I began reaching my hand toward it, I was instantly being shouted at.

"Don't touch that!" Someone unknown to me cried out, making me jerk away from the small object and stand back up. My head turned to look at the middle-aged man, who was walking fast toward me. "I didn't mean to yell, just - that is a part of the crime scene."

A few sniffles escaped from me as I nodded, "Yeah, my mom never did smoke. I was wondering why that was here."

"Just please don't touch anything that looks unfamiliar to you. Well, just don't touch anything." He said before backing away from me and returning to his own business.

I didn't like this. I didn't like being told what to do in mother's house. She wouldn't like this either. In fact, she'd hate it. She was never one who believed in strict rules.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I heard a deep voice mumble from behind me.

Turning around, I noticed a familiar brown headed male. My eyes lit up, a smile soon spreading across my face. "Matt?"

"Of course it's me," He returned the smile, opening up his arms. Without another word, I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. His were wrapped tightly around my lower back, pulling me more into him. "I'm sorry we had to see each other again... like this." He sighed into my hair before trailing a hand up my back to run his fingers through it gently.

My smile faded at his choice of words. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I pushed you away-"

"--let's not talk about this right now, it's besides the point," he interrupted quickly, pulling apart from our long hug to look me over. "I came as soon as I heard the news."

Nodding slowly, I looked down at my feet to avoid him noticing my tears. "She didn't deserve this," He added, grabbing onto my hand and squeezing it lightly. I only nodded.

"Well," Matt sighed, "I need to get going. I have a lot of things to do today but... I'll give you a call maybe later on? If you want to talk."

A small smile spread across my face, "Yeah sure, thanks."

Although I was extremely happy to see Matt, a small half of me didn't want to see him. He was my best friend when we were little, then everything changed when his dad got a new job and he had to move. Though we got reunited again a few years later, we began dating. It didn't last long, and it was my fault for that.