I sat there looking at him hard. My stomach was turning in pure hatred for this man. No, he's not deserving of that title, this monster.
"Why am I the one who needs to keep you sane!? Where am I? The fucking funny farm!?" I spat. He clenched his jaw and scowled.
"I'm serious. Your different from the other girls. I can really sense something within you."
"Yeah well you can sense me getting the fuck out of here."
I quickly got up to only find myself put on the ground again by a sharp blow to the head. I was beginning to see black spots in one of my eyes, followed by the trickling of blood down my face.
He punched me.
"Now I told you, you are NOT going to do that. EVER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU LITTLE BITCH?."
The only thing I could do was whimper and hold in my tears. The taste of sob was in my mouth. I quickly got up and ran back upstairs to the room Harry had put me in before. I didn't even have the strength to clean myself up. I just locked myself in that little room, crying myself to sleep in fetal position. I wanted to leave her so bad, but I don't know what I yearned for the most. My freedom, or my life.
HARRY'S POV
"DAMNIT! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!"
I shouted at myself.
"Great, now she's even more scared of me."
I didn't mean to lash out at her like that, but I don't want to have to kill her. What other way could I make her stay that was humane in nature? I honestly feel like she's special. She had something in her that the other girls didn't. She had a good heart and a kindred spirt.
I knew she did by how I kidnapped her. She was so cute and bubbly and a bit flirty towards me. If she didn't know I was fucking mad, I'd think she fancied me, and I think she still would. I can tell she's the type of person that could accept anyone for who they are, regardless of how big or small their problems are. All I have to do is break her in. Keep her quiet, and maybe she could make me sane again.
I made my way upstairs to my "torture room" when I found it was locked. I jiggled the knob a couple of times but still it was closed. I was beginning to get frustrated, but I knew I had to calm myself in order to follow through on my plan. I put my ear to the door and heard whimpering that was barely audible. I smirked and chuckled at this, but quickly changed my face.
Yes I get off on hurting people, but I know I have to try and feel some type of empathy in order to take a step in the right direction. I pulled out the key from my chest and opened the door. There she was lying in a small little pool of her blood,curled up as if she wanted somebody to hold her.
"Love?"
I spoke softly. She looked up at me with big sorrow filled eyes. Dry tear stains still on her face. I felt my lips try to attempt to form a smile but I knew I had to keep it together. I had to. If I was going to get better, I knew I had to put on the best damn show there is. I walked closer and kneeld down by her. I stroked her soft, yet coarse hair. She was so fragile.
"It's okay love, it's okay."
I heard her groan softly as if she was making a little protest. I picked her up and she clinged to me like a newborn baby to it's mother. Like she wanted this.
I started heading towards the door and back downstairs.
"I'll clean you up. Thing's will get better love, I promise. For you and me..."
YOU ARE READING
Dark Sense Of Humor|Harry Styles
Novela JuvenilYou can't spell slaughter without (s)laughter