FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

22 ║ Stronger Or Weaker

August 23rd

Louis cried in the shower that night. It wasn't the first time, he had cried a lot in the shower before. But this time it felt different. He didn't really know why or how. It just felt more violent, more painful. It lasted a longer time, probably an hour where his tears were being mixed with the water falling from the shower head. It wasn't cold water this time. He was too frozen and he couldn't bring himself to stand under cold water. He would have fainted. The heat of the shower had made Louis even more tired than he already was, and maybe it was the tiredness that brought tears to his shiny blue eyes. Maybe he didn't feel strong enough to fight them back this time. So he just let them roll down his already wet cheeks, trying his best not to sob too loud. The pain was strong and he couldn't escape it. Why? Why did he have to feel like this? Why couldn't he get some rest from all of that pain kicking at his heart over and over again? He was exhausted. Exhausted from trying to live with all that heavy weight on his chest. It felt like crushing his lungs and quickly, he found himself pressing his trembling hands against the mosaic tiles of the shower wall. Pushing strongly as he tried to breathe in. Maybe it was how hard he wanted to keep his sobs inside, maybe that was how hard he was contracting his chest so he wouldn't do any sound. He simply didn't want to alarm anyone. If they heard him cry, they would just burst in to try and find what was wrong. But there was nothing wrong. He just felt broken. Like he wasn't really there anymore. Maybe he was somewhere else, so far away. He wanted to. He wanted to be able to cry loudly wherever he was and just let the pain go with his tears. But he couldn't. Not here, not while his sister was in the next room. So he pressed his palm against his mouth as he let his back slide down the wall slowly. His bottom met the floor suddenly and he flinched a bit, pressing onto his lips harder with his hand. The violent tears streaming down his face and the pain running through his veins were making his body shutter under the water. He wished he had the ability to turn his feelings off, he wouldn't have to worry about drowning in the shower because he couldn't catch his breath through his tears. He wished everything was different. When did it all go wrong? When did his life take a turn for the worst? He couldn't remember exactly. He couldn't even tell why it went so far that he was unable to stand up and stop crying. Louis wanted to re-write his story, his life from the start. But what would he even change if he didn't know why he was feeling so stupid and disgusting, why he felt like dying. He couldn't change anything because he had no idea when the sun had stopped warming and lightening his life. It felt so sudden. So annoying, so upsetting and painful. And suddenly, it was too much. His eyes were burning too much, his chest seemed too heavy, his brain too fucked-up. He was fighting so hard to hold onto hope and life but it felt like he was swimming against the tide. He was running out of strength. Louis was angry, angry with life, with himself. And it was simply too much for his shoulders. As he pulled strongly on his hair, he opened his mouth to scream but no sound was heard. His throat was knotted, on purpose. When he moved his fingers away from his hair, his scalp was throbbing in pain. His fist came to crash against the tiling of the wall in a muffed sound. He didn't stop at one punch and kept hitting the wall with all his strength, he couldn't keep it in anymore, the voice was screaming too loud, the blades were slashing his flesh too deep. He couldn't run away from himself. There were no proper way-out to escape his mind. But once his knuckles started throbbing in pain, Louis' attention focused on it. He stayed there for a while, sitting on the tiling, his body weak and aching. The water hadn't stopped and it kept falling on his pale naked body, flattening his hair against his forehead. As he leant against the wet wall, his spine ached against the hard tiles, he felt like he could fall asleep. His eyelids were heavy and he simply felt too weak to stand up on his feet and leave the shower. So he stayed there for a while, his eyes closed and his fists tight against his stomach. He had brought his knees up to his chest and an arm wrapped around them, holding them closer.
He stood up when Lottie screamed at the door, about 30 minutes later, yelling at him for using so much water. And for a second, it seemed impossible, his legs were trembling, his eyes were burning and his whole body seemed heavier than ever. He simply turned the water off and wrapped a long white towel around his hips, whining a bit in pain as he used the hand he was punching the wall with, minutes ago. He slowly walked to his bedroom, holding himself carefully on furnitures and walls. Louis let himself collapse on his bed, laying his hurt hand flat on his bare chest. After a while, as he felt sleep hitting him gently, he took off the towel and laid under the cover naked.