Silenced- A Larry Stylinson Story

Chapter 15- POV Harry: I Miss You

Boarding school is absolutely dreadful. I get loads of homework, and I try my best to keep my grades up with the slight hope that my parents will be satisfied and let me move back home.

I spend nearly all my extra time thinking about Louis, which is probably why I have only made one friend here.

His name is Liam, and he's my roommate. He is my same age, and he is incredibly boring. He plays piano, has straight A's, wants to be a surgeon- the classic obedient child. We stay up late- but not too late (Liam has a very strict self-established bedtime)- chatting about my troubles, but never his; he doesn't seem to have any.

After a month of struggling through boarding school, I am over it. I am over the pain, the longing, the lessening-with-each-day hope, and I make a rash decision one night to sneak out and call Louis from a payphone. I desperately want to call an Uber to drive me back to Doncaster, but if I did that my parents would be notified of my disappearance and they would probably send me even farther away. So, as much as it pains me, I decide to just call him and sneak back into the school before morning.

Who knew it would be so difficult to sneak out of an all-boys boarding school in the middle of the night? Not me, that's for sure. I decide not to tell Liam about my plan, since he is a horrible liar, and instead wait for him to be asleep before tiptoeing out the bedroom door. I would use a window, but the window in my room is on the third floor overlooking the street with no balcony, and I don't have a death wish right now.

Well, maybe a little, but that's besides the point.

I tiptoe down the stairs, cringing each time a stair creeks under my bare feet. Before long I am in the main entrance hallway, which is a long hallway that spans the length of the entire building and has many doors off of it- the dining hall, a few staircases, the lounge, bathrooms, etc.

Suddenly, I hear a door open and I see the shadowy figure of Mr. Parson, one of the senior English teachers, strolling down the hallway. My heart rate increases as I flatten my body up against the wall in fear.

He is passing me as- oh no. My nose itches. I sprint quickly into the dining hall as I sneeze forcefully. I can hear his footsteps approach the dining hall door, so I dive under the table. He turns the light on and I squeeze my eyes shut in horror. I can hear him meandering about the room and I try my best to stay still.

He then lets out a soft, "Hmmm." of confusion, turns the light off, and leaves.

    I let out a deep sigh. That was close. Too close. Shimmying out from under the table, I tell myself why I am doing this: Louis.

Louis, Louis, Louis, I repeat in my mind as I tiptoe down the dark hallway once more until am at the door. I place my hand on the large cast iron handle and pull. The door lets out a very loud creak. I freeze, and then I hear footsteps approaching. I sprint outside, pulling the door closed behind me, and hide behind a bush as Mr. Parson, once more, examines the area in confusion.

Eventually he leaves, and I drift down the empty city streets in search of a payphone. I find one about three blocks away and insert two of the coins I have been clutching in my sweaty hand into the slot. I pick up the phone, and, heart pounding, I diall his phone number. It rings and rings and rings, but he doesn't pick up. I breathe in sharply and insert the last two coins I have.

Come on, come on, come on. I will him to pick up the phone as a third ring sounds. He doesn't. I sit on the wet ground, back pressed against the black metal pole the phone is attached to, and rest my head on my knees, letting the tears stream down my face. I stay like that, hopeless, for a long time, until a large hand taps my shoulder.

"What are you doing out here at this hour, kid?" A raspy voice asks. I can't see their face in the dark, but their shadow indicates they are a skinny tall man- at least 6' 5''.

"Um- I need to call someone. Do you have some coins?" I blubber despairingly. When his head bobs up and down, I shoot up onto my feet. "Really?" I breathe out. He nods again as he places the coins in my outstretched hand. "Thank you, thank you so much sir. You have no idea how much this helps!" I exclaim gratefully.

"Don't worry about it, kid." His gruff voice remarks into the humid air. He leans in until his lips are next to my ear. I start sweating. I am very uncomfortable.

"Remember this." He says and leaves a moment of suspense. "Treat people with kindness." He speaks clearly into my ear before disappearing mysteriously into the night. I shiver. That was odd.

I quickly insert the coins into the slot and dial Louis's phone number once more, hoping desperately that he will pick up.

Then I hear breathing. I know that breathing well. Hearing his short breaths into the phone, a salty tear escapes my closed eyes. I want to be next to him so bad.

"Hi, Louis." I whisper. He stays silent, but I can hear his breathing speed up on the other end of the line. After a few minutes of listening to each other breathe, he speaks.

"Hi, Haz." Butterflies rush into my stomach. He remembered my nickname. I hear him crying into the phone, and before long I find myself crying too. "I hate this, Harry." He says quietly.

"Me too." I reply.

"I love you so much, Hazza. I just want to be with you. My life sucks right now. Nothing feels right without you here and I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you."

"I miss your beautiful, kind, green eyes." He continues

"I miss your cute, curly hair."

"I miss your sweet, graceful lips." I bring my hand to touch my dry, chapped lips.

"I miss your dorky laugh." The blood rushes to my cheeks, which are wet with tears.

"I miss your charming smile and I miss your incredibly kind, smart, amazing mind and I just love you so damn much."

I wrap my arms around myself and try to imagine he is hugging me. It doesn't work.

"We'll make it, Haz." He reassures with a shaky voice. I can tell he's trying to convince himself of this, too. "We'll make it."

We talk on the phone for two more hours, laughing and crying and telling each other it will be okay, even though neither of us believe it. Eventually, I tell him I need to head back to school. Morning is approaching and I can't be caught.

"Harry." He says to me.

"Louis." I respond.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, I miss you." He whispers.

"Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, I miss you too." I breathe, and we repeat each other's names over the phone, quieter and quieter each time, until we are both sobbing and I force myself, broken-heartedly, to end the call.

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