The Prisoner (Harry Styles)

The Prisoner Chapter 25

Chapter 25

~Ciara

Oh I've been around.

Just siting around.

Siting here

in this damn cell.

This jail cell.

A prison,

oh that's where I be.

Just siting around.

This bed of metal,

these walls of concrete,

keep me here,

locked up

and just siting around.

Oh there's innocence in my guilt.

And guilt up in my innocence.

The feelings in my thoughts,

put them together,

all the pieces

but I'll still be here.

Just sitting around.

Oh I miss the river.

The sunny days.

The starry nights.

The grass so green,

and the sky so blue.

Missing those days,

that I wasn't here.

Locked up,

and just sitting around.

It's been hours. Days. Weeks. I pick up the chalk that I had found under the bed the night after I was put in here. I hold it tightly in the hand of the one arm that's not chained to the bed. I scratch another X on the concrete floor adding a day onto my 'calendar' Thank god I found this chalk and can keep track of how many days I've been down here. How many days I've been without sunlight. Without a shower, or a conversation. A word hasn't come out of my mouth since the night I was chained this bed. Sometimes I wonder if I even know how to talk anymore. I've just been down here in the same big t-shirt that hangs down to my knees, the same unbrushed, smelly, curly, raggedy, long hair. Sometimes it's all I have to depend on. It's all I have to fuss with and blow over some time. I just sit and run my fingers through it, braid it, unbraid it...braid it again. The only "fun" there is. At night I like to look up at the black ceiling and pretend it's the sky, and stars just don't exist. It never really works though. Sometimes I just cry. Just sit next to the bed that I won't dare get on for the fear of bugs being under the mattress, and cry. I'm pretty convinced that Niall's moved on. Layla's got a new bestfriend and her and Zayn are as happy as ever. I mean, I've got 92 X's chalked onto the floor beneath me. 92 days that I've been down here, not even counting the days I was in this house before that. I've just been gone for so long, everybody's gotta have new lives without me by now. I like to think that one day Ni will just walk down here and save the day. Take me home and love me like old times. I like to think that one day I'll be able to laugh and smile again with my bestfriend. My beautiful blonde sister that I hope never forgets about me, even if she did move on. I like to think that somebody knows I'm still alive. That somebody knows I'm in trouble and is looking for me. Looking for that black range rover that took me off one night and never brought me back. I like to hope that Niall kept his promise and isn't coming looking for me. I fear that if on one miraculous day, he does see that awful black range rover in this awful driveway of this awful house, that he will come knocking on the door and Harry would kill him on sight. And who wouldn't be able to save him because she's locked in a basement, chained to a bed? Me.

Everyday Harry brings me food. It's never any good food. I get 2 biscuits, some loose corn, a cup of water, and some soup. The same everyday. All 92, soon to be 93 days. Then 94, 95, 96, 97.... However many days it takes me to die. That's my conclusion now. There's no way out of this. I'm gonna die down here and no one will ever have even known besides Harry. I wonder how my brother is doing. Does he even know? Has Layla even told him that I've been missing for so long? Is he looking for me? Does he still love me? All questions that I ache to know the answers to but never can. This concrete ground is cold, sometimes this shirt isn't enough, this chain keeps me locked here. Right on this cold ground, next to this old metal bed. I've learned how to do some things with one hand. Like braid my hair, and fold a pillowcase, and eat soup without a spoon. It's all so barbaric but I have no choice. The only time I get out is when I have to use the bathroom. I figured that since Harry is doing this to me, I don't owe him the decency of speaking to him. So whenever I have to pee or take a number 2, I wait till he brings me my food and I look up at him and pull on the chain twice. It took him a while the first couple times but now he gets what I mean. He yells at me sometimes for not speaking, but I don't care. I've given up everything for his evil ways. When he takes me to use the bathroom, he blind folds me. He says it's because he promised that I'd never see daylight again and he meant it. He carries me what seems like up some stairs and leads me to a bathroom. He sits me on the toilet, says 'go' and I guess watches me from what it seems. He also takes the side of the chain that is usually attached to the bed, and attaches it to my other wrist. Then when I get back to the basement he takes it off my other wrist and puts it back on the bed and I'm back with just one arm free, sitting next to this bed. But this is just my life now. I have to accept it, the hard way. I'll never get good food again. I'll never get to be loved or love someone like I used to. I'll never see Louis, or Niall, or Layla, or even Zayn. This is just it. Just this basement. And that's it.