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Cleo Horan

"You keep calling my father sick, but you really should be looking in the mirror." Louis laughed under his breath, looking deep into my eyes as he was tied on the chair. "The sick one here was your dear father, don't think I don't know. You are pathetic... and you don't fool me, I know Catherine sent you after me to silence me. But I'm not the only one, more people know that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

The moment he implied those vile words I simply snapped, consumed by this dormant rage that was just waiting for a trigger.

The list, being lied to during my entire life, being used and played... it was all bottled up inside me and no amount of crying would be enough to help me, those thoughts would haunt me forever and there was no way out.

I couldn't even control my brain or my movements, my grip tightened on the knife again and I grabbed Louis' hair, stabbing him below his chin, going upwards until I saw the blade piercing through his tongue and hitting the roof of his mouth.

I pulled the knife away, slitting his throat as his blood splashed all over me and Harry in the process, since he was still next to me. I was very slow though... watching as he choked on his own blood until I cut deep enough that his head was half cut off.

There was no way I could control myself or handle this suffocating anger, I simply snapped. I couldn't handle it anymore, this was too much.

I let the knife fall on the floor when I was done, noticing that I was holding it so tightly that the handle cut the palm of my hand, and I stumbled back until my back his Harry's car parked in the garage, and my legs weakened under me.

His green eyes were focused on me as I sat down on the floor, unable to keep myself together.

My ragged breaths were loud and my lungs were burning with every intake of air, being crushed by the suffocating panic that was now taking over my entire body.

Harry just gaped at me, his face and clothes were covered in blood, probably just like me, but I couldn't feel anything but pain. This hurt.

//

The memories hit me like I was being run over by a fucking train, I honestly felt as if I was reliving that godawful night. The details were so fucking specific.

My skin was crawling and chills went down my spine with the very vivid flashes, and there was no way they were my imagination. The pieces finally came together.

The moment I lost control and moved towards the man tied up in our living room, I was about to slit his throat because the rage inside me had become way too much.

My emotions were a bigger mess and maybe feeling so vulnerable because of Harry and what he was going through was kinda breaking through the thick walls I had built to protect myself.

My numbness was enveloping me as a form of protection itself, and this trigger was enough to crack that.

The memories kept replaying at a fast pace inside my mind and my heart was thumping against my chest. My trembling hands let the blade fall to the floor before I turned around to face a very confused Harry.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, then running his fingers through his short hair.

"What happened to Louis?" I instantly asked.

I was sure the similarities between the two situations were enough to make me remember.

Plus the way he kept whistling that damn song around me was also slowly forcing me to think more about this.

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