Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3

Part six

WROTE FROM MY CELLLL SO SORRY IF MISTAKES

DEDICATED TO ONE OF MY AWESOME READERS. LOVE U

----------------------------------

Winnie's POV

The past week has been like a fucking little tease. Every time I came home, I would always see caterers talking to my mum about overpriced finger foods whose names I can't even pronounce, party planners that seem to want to just throw the party themselves, interior decorators since according to my mother substance always comes before style (which I know is a lie since I don't think a couch that feels as hard as cement has any substance at all really), and any other ridiculously expensive party company you can think of.

Those ridiculous Christmas looking lights that have been hung all throughout the patio outside have just been laughing at me with their bitchy and annoying ass laughs, pointing at me while chanting, Just a few more days till the party. A few more days until you have to socialize with all those low life's who think of you as well as every other patient there as 'sick'.

It revolts me. It truly does. Just because they talk to me, it makes them feel as if they did a form of service. As if talking to this mute chic makes them a good person or some shit.

I've been thinking about just pretending to be ill or something. Maybe fake a migraine or some crap, but I remembered how when I was 13 and was actually ill, like I had a stomach ache and all, my mum just brought the guests upstairs. It was despicable. All these people in elegant dresses and Italian suits were all watching a girl dressed in Hello Kitty pajamas barfing into a rusty silver bucket.

I don't want to ever face that tragedy again. Even though I won't be actually sick, I just don't want to be faced with the tragedy of people fake caring. It aggravates me.

Whatever I guess.

When I was ranting to Izzy the other day during our little sleep over, she told me how I should try socializing. How being able to actually walk and roam around somewhere without people staring at your misfortune (hers being cancer), is such a luxury that I should be grateful for.

That shut me up.

Even though I do have a misfortune of my own that people stare at, I didn't say another word (well literally speaking of course. Basically I didn't type anything else in my Ipad is what I mean.)

I promised her I wouldn't rant to anyone else about it, to suck it up for my mum's sake since it does seem to be important to her for some reason.

And I kept my promise.

Well kinda.

Like I mean I still complained, but in my head so I don't think that really counted.

So I guess I did keep it.

But now it's seven at night and I'm just sitting down in one of the clothed tables outside, wearing some black, sleeveless, knee length dress that's covered with pink pastel colored flowers (Gene's) and black heels that make me almost as tall as my dad and that are also very very VERY painful to walk in (Also Gene's).

My Ipad is resting on my lap, hidden under the white table cloth and my phone is resting on the table, my ear buds placed in my ears securely. My elbow is resting on the table, my hand holding my head that is resting lazily upon it, my hair covering half of my face.

People are surrounding me, many actually and I just close my eyes, hoping that if I shut them out they will do the same.

But no. People think that when a person puts in their headphones it means come interrupt me.