Silent Screams » Harry Styles

Chapter 13

Everything makes sense- too much sense. I’m so stupid! How did I not recognize the house? But most importantly, how did I not notice there was someone in the house? They must have been hiding. So the muffled scream I heard was from the person dead upstairs. If I had just went upstairs and checked, they could still be alive. But of course, I trusted Harry. I have an urge to cry, but no tears come. I’m in utter shock.

I take a step back and I feel someone’s body bump against mine. My heart stops beating, and my breath hitches in my throat.

“Looking for something?” I hear a low voice say behind me. 

I turn around slowly to face Harry, afraid to make contact with him. My eyes are squeezed shut and I open one eye to see that his expression is indifferent. His lack of emotion doesn’t ease me, but only frightens me more. 

“I um- I’m-“

“Surprised?” he suggests. 

“Well you shouldn’t be. You know very well of whom I am, and you should have known better.” he says and slams me back against the wall. I grit my teeth, and try not to show the pain I feel. He flicks out a knife from his pocket, and he holds it against my neck.

“Listen to every word I say and you won’t get hurt.” he demands ruthlessly. He puts the knife back in his pocket, and holds my arms behind my back.

“Now walk,” he orders and I do.

His grip on my wrists is firm, and I know that if I try to run away, I won’t get out of the house alive. I am too shocked to make sense of what is happening, and my thoughts are filled with unanswered questions. What happened to the Harry from this morning? What happened to my Harry? Stupid Annaliese, he was never yours and never will be.

He pretended to like me, and he did really good job at it. He’s so manipulative and charming that I didn’t notice a single thing. I thought he changed. I thought that I made him different. But even the best therapists can’t fix the most fucked up people. How did I expect I could? Not only did Harry fool me, but I fooled myself. I made myself think that I could change him. And he encouraged me while he was setting me up. This was his plan the whole time.

Like the desperate person I am, I started to grow feelings for him. And I was stupid enough to think he had feelings for me.

By the time I snap out of my thoughts, we are in a room upstairs. There’s a chair in the middle of the room, and Harry tells me to sit down in it. He takes a rope from the desk nearby, and ties my wrists and feet together. From the looks of it, he has this all planned out. He even has a lighter in his hand.

“Stupid, naïve, Annaliese,” he sighs while walking around me.

“You thought I had feelings for you didn’t you?” he snarls and flicks the lighter, and a small flame appears. He brings it to my skin, and I feel the scorching pain it causes.

“Well I don’t,”

I bite down hard on my lip, praying that the pain will stop. He puts the fire on my arm, and a single tear rolls down my cheek. I try to stifle my sobs but I can’t. I trusted him, and I shouldn’t have. This is what I get for falling into his trap. This is what I get. 

I attempt to move my wrists and legs only to have the rough rope rub against me. I feel a rash forming as I keep trying but I know it’s hopeless. I’ll never be able to get out of this chair. By this time, I am full on sobbing and Harry is watching me vacantly.

“Why?” I strangle out the question.

That is the only answer I need. Why? Harry brings his face close to mine, and his hot breath fans over my face. I look at him in his eyes, pleading that he will let me go. I bet he can see the desperation in my eyes. I see his eyes soften, just for a second, and then he reverts to his previous hard expression. I saw sympathy in his eyes, even if it was the tiniest bit of sympathy, it was still there.

“I’m sorry Annaliese,” he says as he pours alcohol over the wooden floors.

“Wait!” I exclaim and he looks at me. I shift in my seat and my lip trembles.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time, and I never know if you’re telling the truth.” I say and I sit up in the chair, “lie to me again.”

He opens the window and takes a few pieces of wood in his hand. He lights them all up, and he sticks one leg out of the window.

“You want to hear another lie?" he asks and I nod.

"I hate you,” he says and throws the flaming pieces of wood onto the floor. The room goes up in flames, and everything seems to be in slow motion. The heat and smoke suffocates me, and the last thing I see are Harry’s eyes. And the sorrow in them is evident.