Silent Screams » Harry Styles

Chapter 12

My cheeks have been flushed since this morning, and the only thing I have thought about is what happened between me and Harry. Never had I thought that would have happened. For some reason, I just wanted to get in his pants. As ridiculous as that sounds, it's the truth. Never had I desired something as much as I desired that. I've never been the one to want a sexual relationship, I've always wanted love. With the way he pleasured me, I think he filled the void in me that I've had for years.

I know that I should be ashamed of myself, but I'm not. I don't regret a single thing I did in that bedroom. My dad would be disappointed, yes, but he doesn't have to know. Harry is walking around, talking on the phone, as if nothing had happened ten minutes before. I know he wasn't expecting me to be so willing, but I hope I didn't force him to do what he did.

Replaying the scenes in my head, I remember the talks my mom and I always had. She gave me the sex talk when I was fourteen, but she and I both knew that I wouldn't do such a thing. First off, I was too young, and second, I was too sad. I didn't think anybody would love me at that age. It was the stage where I was changing and I just looked downright ugly. I didn't want anybody to see me, especially when I was so insecure about myself.

I still am insecure, but for different reasons. When I look in the mirror, all I see are flaws. I just hope Harry doesn't see what I see.

I go to stand in the kitchen and I hear the last few words of Harry's conversation on the phone.

"Yes, that's the new plan. Okay, bye." he says and walks over to me.

"So...what are we going to do now?" I ask.

"The plan is that we're going to a new facility thirty minutes from here. We should travel by night." he replies and goes back upstairs.

I sigh and look down at my filthy cotton sweater. I raise the sleeve to reveal my scars. I rip the band aid off and inspect the accidental cut. It's healing; luckily the cut wasn't too deep. Now that I think about it, I have been clean since I've met Harry. I didn't feel the heavy depression that I always feel when I was in the facility. Maybe it was the fear that consumed my every thought instead of sadness.

I pull the sweater over my head, and look around the house to find the washing machine. When I reach it, I'm lucky enough to see that the previous owners of this house still have laundry detergent. I pour some in and wash the cotton with cold water. I tap my fingers on the top of the machine until I hear it beep. I take it out, and then take it outside so it can air-dry so it won't shrink.

I'm wearing my long sleeved shirt, but I'll wash that later. Before I step outside, I hear a muffled noise come from upstairs. Or was it downstairs? I go to the bottom of the stairs and lean against the railing.

"Harry?" I ask loudly

"Yeah?" he answers

"Is everything okay up there?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." he says and I shrug my shoulders. Maybe I'm just imagining things.

Harry has been upstairs for a very long time, and I have no idea what he's doing. I know that I shouldn't worry about him, but I do anyways. I sit on the back porch, waiting for my sweater to dry and my long-sleeved shirt to wash.

Time ticks by and I start to get bored. My sweater is only a tiny bit wet, and I assume that my shirt is finished. I walk inside of the house, to find Harry sitting on the couch with his legs propped up on the table. He turns his head to look at me, and I cover my exposed skin with the sweater. His eyebrows quirk up and he smiles at me.

"Walking around without and shirt and you didn't tell me?" he teases and I roll my eyes.

I turn my back to him and slip the sweater on. I sit next to him on the couch and he wraps his arms around me. His face is pressed against my breast, and he takes in a deep breath.

"You smell nice." he point outs.

"Thank you." I say and play with his hair.

"Are you sure that everything up there was okay? It didn't sound like it was." I say referring to the incident earlier.

He looks up at me and frowns, "I wouldn't lie."

"I know, it's just....I needed to make sure."

Harry yawns and sprawls across the couch. He shuts his eyes and his head rests in my lap.

"I'm going to take a nap. We have quite a distance to walk tonight." he mumbles before drifting to sleep.

After ten minutes, I can't fall asleep. I decide that I should go upstairs. I get up from the couch, making sure not to wake Harry up. He stirs in his sleep, and rolls onto his side. I let out a sigh and continue walking upstairs. The stairs creak under my feet, and I feel like they can break any second.

I check all the rooms, searching for what? I don't know. But I feel like there's something Harry's not telling me. I try opening one of the doors, but it's locked. I take out a bobby pin, and pick the lock open. I open the door to the room, and take in a sharp breath.

There is blood staining the walls and a dead body mangled on the ground. The stench of blood fills the air and I cover my mouth and nose. Written on the wall says: "Go to the basement if you dare, but you what you'd see might be too much to bear."

I take one more look at the dead body, and shut the door behind me. I lock it again, as if it was never opened in the first place. I tip toe quickly but quietly to the basement. I am almost out of breath when I get to the door. I open it up slowly, almost too afraid to see what's behind the closed door.

When I open it, I immediately regret it. I am horrified by what I see. Every inch of the room is covered in dark red, and the bodies are in their own dried blood. There must be at least ten dead people in this basement. I realize that this is the house that was on the news. These were the people that were murdered right before Harry broke into my house.

They're wrists and throats are slit and some are hung from the ceiling fan. I cringe away from the disturbing scene but look back. Written on the wall says the very words someone I know said earlier.

"I wouldn't lie."