Home (H.S)

now it ends

"The truth is hiding in your eyes
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man that you are
If you're a man at all
Well, I will figure this one out
On my own
(I'm screaming, "I love you so")
On my own
(My thoughts you can't decode)

How did we get here?
When I used to know you so well, yeah
How did we get here?
Well, I think I know how

Do you see what we've done?
We've gone and made such fools
Of ourselves
Do you see what we've done?
We've gone and made such fools
Of ourselves"

Eleanor's POV

I can't believe the sight before me. Part of me is still fighting to believe it but I can only pretend to be so naïve. I didn't want to believe because then it means everything I know have been a lie. From start to end and I don't think I can find it in myself to forgive anyone that was involved in this. Almost a whole year I had been playing along to a game my parents and the Styles family had set up. A game I had no part in whatsoever.

I want to break down in tears again for the millionth time today, but I know right now isn't the time or place. I still have a lot to discover, so that I can make a decision on what I need to do. I wish I could unsee a lot of what I had seen today or un-hear what I've heard today. Stupidly, I want to go back to being that naive girl everyone had taken for a fool. I just couldn't believe any of this was real and that it was happening to me.

True as day, though it was real. All of it was real, Esther was real.

She looks at me too with curiosity and interest. I have to admit that physically we could definitely pass off as twins but there is a huge difference between us. I've been told that I have soft gentle features while everything about Esther eludes hardness. I am the good girl making her the badass.

"So, you're the one they replaced me with after dumping me in this bloody asylum?" Esther sneers picking up the cigarette box in front of her on the table. I look around to see what had become Esther's home these past few years. The walls of her room are grey. I notice that there are a few art drawings and paintings on it. They look like those of a professional painter instead of an asylum patient. There is also a simple set of vintage table, chairs, and clothes drawer. Her bed is simple with creamy colored sheets and bed setting. A light bulb hangs on the high ceiling, a precaution for suicidal patients I assume. The room has no windows to see the outside world.

"Esther, I'm Eleanor. I wanted to see if we could talk about some things we have in common?" I try to ask as gently as possible, hoping not to trigger an outburst or something. Her chart said she was in here for Intermittent Explosive Disorder and Psychotic Destructive Tendencies. It was next to nearly impossible to come see her alone without any supervision. I was expecting Esther to be in a straight jacket with her hair all crazy or in a room with white walls. Thankfully Leslie knew people and had made sure that we'd have access right away.

"Babe, don't believe what my charts say. I'm really not all that dangerous or psychotic as they make me be. If I was I'd be gauging your eyes out." Esther's chuckles, lighting up a cigarette. She sees me eyeing it and smirks holding out the box to me.

"Where are my manners, Esther? Here mate, go ahead have one," she offers.

"No thank you. I don't smoke anything quite honestly." I decline nicely, holding a palm up. Esther's eye brows rise up and then she simply shrugs, placing the box back down.