sitting pretty ∞ h.s

chapter nine

nine

The hours of the night passed by quickly, the moon had vanished from the sky when the sun began to rise. I had been sitting uncomfortably in the chair besides the desk, watching the sky. The leafless trees swayed back and forth, the birds chirped loudly, but everything seemed silent. My eyes were fixated on something far away, I wasn't exactly paying attention to anything specific- mostly my scattered thoughts.

Lately, I haven't been able to think properly- I haven't tried to either. I hated the thought of having to live in reality, I'd rather feel like everything was a dream and that I'd wake up from it soon. But the conscious part of my mind was pulling at my brain, telling me that I'd have to open my eyes a little wider and realize that this wasn't a game or a dream, but that this was real life.

My eyes started to grow heavy, my arms loosening around my knees. And just as I began to fall into unconsciousness, the door creaked open. My head snapped up and my eyes darted to the door, I've been alert all night and I had expected for my alertness to wear off by now.

Standing in the doorway was three of the people that I've seen most at this place, Harry, his mother, and the boy that had always brung me clothes. I was surprised I hadn't learned his name by then. I tensed in the chair more than before and avoided eye contact with all three of them. I felt overwhelmed, their stares pouring into me as I tried to not seem so noticeably uncomfortable. I moved my hands to my hair, pushing it away from my face.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry, out of the three of them, walk forward. His footsteps were the only thing to be heard and I was beginning to feel the tension that I hadn't realized until now. Harry's hands were behind his back and his face was expressionless, but I assumed he was angry. I could never tell by the amount of mood swings he had.

His movements were slow, I watched both of his hands as they were slowly removed from behind his back.

My heart pounded in my chest and I -without my permission- stood from the chair, my body was moving on its own now. My eyes were wide and I had to slap my hand on my chest to calm myself down. The journal. He opened it to the first page I had written on, the page I wrote that I'd escape and find my mother. He tore the page out and threw the journal at my chest. I wasn't fast enough, my reflexes being as slow as they are, the journal dropped to the ground before I could catch it. I sighed, but I still felt as if I couldn't breathe. My eyes darted to my hiding place for the journal, seeing that it had been taken from its place. I hadn't an idea of how they've found it, but unfortunately they did.

Harry held the paper up in front of his face and began to quote my words, "Please don't worry. I am fine, don't come looking for me. I beg of you..." Harry's words were sharp, his tone different from the tone I intended for it to be. He continued, "I got into a little bit of trouble, but by the time you receive this I will be on my way home. Please tell Charlie that I'm okay... and that nothing has happened to me." He crumpled up the paper harshly and threw it to the ground. I bit my lip, backing up onto the desk.

"I- I just wanted her to know that I was okay." I explained.

"No, Charlotte! You told her you'd be on your way home, you lied to her. I've told you already, Charlotte. I've told you that this is your home, this is where you live." He yelled to my face. I flinched at the volume of his voice and turned my head away from him.

"You're insane." I muttered.

"What was that?" He grabbed my chin too quickly and turned me to look at him again. I gasped and shook my head, immediately taking back what I had said. I closed my eyes tightly, pursing my lips together.

"Nothing," I said so quietly that I was positive he couldn't hear me. But somehow he did, he always did.

"I'm going to let that pass, just because that's not important right now. What is important is that paper, and the fact that you've lied and told your mother that you'd be on your way home. That you've planned to escape." He clutched onto my shirt roughly and pulled me closer to him. I breathed slowly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.