Runaway Children

3 children, 2 grown-ups, 1 thing they have in common; their urge of running away from their problems.

When those 2 people divided by fame and sorrow meet again their worlds will be turned upside down, bringing back unwanted memories and digging up old graves.

Will Alexa and Louis find a way to cope with the pain of the past or will they forever remain what they are:

Runaway children....

5Likes
6Comments
1546Views
AA

13. chapter 13

A/N~ READ THE AUTOR'S NOTE AT THE END

~*~*~*~*<*~*~*~*~€~€~*~*~*~* (I failed a bit there)

 

I knew he was right. The note, the strange man had left me on the hospital bench had been stuck in my head for several days now. What did he mean by it?

Darkness cannot rule out darkness only light can do that; hate cannot rule out hate only love can do that.

Obviously by the hate he meant my burning flaming hate for Louis, but what love did he mean? Was it the love towards Dianne or a love still to come for a person I had still to meet?

I had no clue what I'd have to do with that quote, but knowing the man; whatever he meant by it he was certainly right.

Slowly I rose myself from the hospital chair I was sitting in. I hadn't left the hospital or Louis' side in 8 days. Niall, who I noticed knew something the other boys didn't, always had a surprised look in his icy blue eyes when he would see me sitting in the white plastic chair next to Louis' bed. Like he wasn't expecting me to be there. But I always was.

Eleanor hadn't come back and Harry didn't attempt to speak to me anymore. When he would visit I would always happen to need a visit to the little ladies room and he was fine with that.

The nurses had become used to my presence and had given up trying to get me to leave. My stubborn personality wasn't something they had the time or strength to deal with. So they'd just let me be and didn't ask me any questions.

Something I had learned no one did, not even Louis' friends, who every once in a while came around to bring some flowers or talk to Louis' lifeless body and then, feeling just as useless, but a tad bit less guilty, left me and Louis in the small yellow hospital room again.

As time passed, the nurses started treating me like one of the patients, offering me their disgusting hospital food, which I gladly refused and using the same high-pitch voice they did with their slightly retarded patients.

I however couldn't care less. My life existed out of my daily scheme of things the nurses had told me to do: wake up, wash, cloth, eat, walk. Every time I would wake up with an aching back from the plastic chair, I would feel a million years older, only wanting my conscious would let me go back to my soft queen-sized bed home. Yet I knew I wouldn't see or feel the softness of that bed until Louis would wake up, which may even never happen and I would be cursed to stay next to this ungrateful hospital bed on that squeaky plastic chair.

As I walked towards the sink in the left corner of the room, I felt my slightly rheumatic bones ache under my weight.

The small mirror above the basin, showed a lifeless, pale women, whom collar bones were far too noticeable to be healthy. I knew out of experience that that women was my own revolting image, yet I felt no resemblance whatsoever towards the pale figure in front of me. I felt worse.

Hesitantly I turned the tap to let the cold water run through my shaking fingers. I splashed some water in my face, hoping it could erase the sorrow on my face. All my hope , however, faltered when I looked back into the green stormy eyes of the woman that was me, seeing there was nothing that could erase the pain that memory caused.

The flares of the memory I had so viscously tried to escape eight days ago, had been haunting me through out my stay and I knew it wouldn't be long until the imaginary walls I had built came violently caving in, revealing every single detail I had tried to forget, but failed to erase.

"Morning, Ma'am!", the cheery voice of one of the nurses, called Anne, came echoing through the room. I turned around to see the jolly red-head had already started to do the usual every day check-up on Louis.

"Morning...", I replied. My voice did not contain the same level of enthusiasm, simply because I couldn't bring up the strength to sound like I was actually okay.

Every day Anne would try to convince me to tell my story or complement me on my undying love for Louis, that allowed me to sleep on a 'frekin plestic' chair as she would say on her annoying Scouse accent. I didn't even try to explain to her how wrong she was. I let her be in her stupid idealism of what real love should be like and proceeded to make small talk.

Today was no exclusion to that every day core as she said: "So will today be the day you'll tell me how you 2 met and fell in love? I'm dying to know."

I rolled my eyes at her. I always found 'dying to know' so exorbitant. You are not dying, yet you tell people you are. I guess no one told the poor thing that dying is not the word to use in front of a coma-patient and his troubled 'wife' as I had once over-heard the chatty nurses in the private toilets say.

Again, I stopped myself from explaining the girl that we did not fell in love, because I knew that if I did she would just start posing even more questions. Questions I did not care to explain to an oblivious nurse who had never felt real pain.

"No it won't.", I stated, while picking my notebook up. And with that our conversation ended. Some days I tried to convince her of my sanity by discussing something random like the news of that day. But today I just walked straight out towards the garden, my small notebook firmly clenched under my arm.

Selena brought the little booklet to me a few days ago, hoping my younger self could help me cope with the pain of having Louis in a coma. After the 'accident', as she would call it, I told her how me and Louis were best friends, which easily explained my frequent visits to the hospital. She didn't have to know about the real reason I was her nor did she ask for more information on our youth.

It became my every day ritual to read through my memories. The notebook had 1 page entries on my life, written by me on several occasions, each parting about 10 to 13 months, until the last year of my youth, 6 years ago. I read them to block out the awful memory and that is about all I can say about it, because I really don't know why they brought me so much happiness.

I sat down on one of the benches under the oak three, my face was shielded by some shadow from the branches of the giant tree. Carefully I opened the very brisk little book, turning to the first page from when I was 6. My sloppy writing brought a smile to my emotionless face.

"Hi futur me! Todai I turned 6! Yay! My mumy buyed dis book for my birtdai and Im going to wite to you so u can rid dis wen your sad and stuf."

Attached to it was a drawing of me on my birthday, with my mum and dad, who was still there. (Drawing on your right>).

I remember being so happy on that day. It was so warm and the sun was shining, which was unusual for a day in February. I invited my 2 best friends, Dianne and Louis to my party and mum bought a chocolate cake with 6 little birthday candles. We played in the garden until the sun fell and Dianne and Louis 'my two best friends for forever and ever... and ever' had to leave.

My 7 year entry was all about how I wanted to be a princess which brought a giant grin to my face. 8 was about Louis, 9 was about my new teacher, 10 about my trip to France. I swallowed when I saw the wrinkled age 11 entry. You could still see where the tears had fell.

"My life is so horrible. Dad left us and mum started drinking, And the only words Louis my so-called 'best' friend speaks to me are words I do not want to repeat. Why is all of this happening at the same time? Why does God hate me so much he wants to make my life horrible?..."

The remaining part of the entree was blurry because of the tears that had erased the words of grief I had tried to write down. But eventually I had gave up and I had let my tears drown my wry letters.

I quickly skipped some pages, in fear of the still threatening memories, to come to the 14 year old entry, which was slightly longer. My handwriting had become a bit more neat, but it was still quite sloppy.

"I am 14 now and I am currently obsessed with this boy-band called The Fray maybe you still remember them. Me and Dianne want to be like them when we grow up. Well whats to say? My hormones are driving me completely crazy, as is my crush on Edward, his six-pack is so... I just I can't even begin to explain. Louis my best friend you know him right turned out to be a total bitch. But me and Di don't care about him. So yeah basically my life is pretty smooth. Bye future me."

I could tell by my last sentence I was just trying to be tough like always. Why did I always have to be so fucking tough? I think that is what made me collapse, trying to be strong for Dianne's sake at first, for my mum's sake after Dianne died. I think maybe if I would've just let it all out I wouldn't be as broken now. But then again who could I gush out to? My best friend died and apart from her there was no one who would want to be seen with me for long enough for me to tell my story. So I just sucked it in, kept my head up.

The page after that one was torn out of the book, it was the page containing the miserable memory . I had so viscously tried to forget 'it' that everything even the slightest bit related to the erased memory had to be destroyed.

The sound of a nurse running towards me interrupted my deep thoughts. I cautiously looked up from my book, my neck cracking as I did so. It was Anna, the annoying red-head again, looking absolutely out of breath, her face matching her bright red hair and her breathing heavy.

"Ma'am, ma'am! He woke up! He woke up!", she yelled like I wasn't actually sitting in front of her.

"Finally." was the only thing I was able to state, as I slowly stood up, "Now I can leave, well bye then!"

A click echoed through my head. I heard my own voice, yet it didn't seem mine. The only thing I was thinking was: He did what she could not do. He succeeded where she failed.

The look on her face as I slowly started walking away, still filled with pain from sleeping in the chair for 8 days, was priceless. She just stared at me her mouth slightly opened. I couldn't even imagine how much thoughts must've been running through her tiny skull at that moment. Her mind was probably working more than it ever did in her entire life. I was actually surprised her head didn't explode.

"Bu-but...", she managed to stutter. I actually felt for the poor girl. She must've been so confused, but to be honest I was just as confused.

I had no idea what I was even doing, all I knew was that I didn't want to see Louis. I didn't want to hear him weep about his life, like he always did when something was wrong. On that aspect we were probably the most opposite people that lived on the planet. He being happy, talkative, cheeky; me being bitter, sarcastic, pained.

Yet he was the one sitting in a hospital bed after sleeping for 3 weeks and 1 day, it just did not make sense.

"I never loved him.", I muttered, hoping that was enough of an explanation for the now hyperventilating nurse. But she was so oblivious to everything, she probably didn't even hear the only explanation she was going to get from me. Too possessed by her own strenuous thoughts.

Slowly I traveled back to the hospital not to see Louis but to get my handbag. Hopefully the doctors were checking up on Louis and I wouldn't have to see his newfound strength, that was only going to remind me of how he wasn't Dianne.

It were times like this that made me question my own sanity. And the weird looks the nurse, who was following me closely, was still giving me didn't exactly help persuading me.

As I walked inside Louis' pale yellow room, I didn't even notice the still weak pile of human holding itself up against the bed. I didn't hear the words coming out of its mouth. My vision had become blurry again, dissolving all the colours in the room in one giant yellow mess, which made it almost impossible to find my handbag. I knew that if I wouldn't find my I-pod, within seconds the shatters would come back this time even sharper and more detailed than before.

I sighed in relieve when I felt the soft leather of my purse against my tingling fingertips. Still blind to everything around me, my shaking hands found the small electric device that could release me. Quickly, I shoved the white headphones in my ears and let the humble first tones of 'Bulletproof Love' run through my mind drowning the sounds of our mumbled voices.

"I'll breath you in with the smoke 

In the backyard light 

We used to laugh until we choked 

Until we wasted night"

My feet were again making there way towards the garden of the hospital this time to leave for good and not look back. Never look back.

"It was the best time of my life 

But now I sleep alone 

So darling don't, don't wake me up. 

'Cause my thrill is gone"

I noticed that I had begun running again. My feet were carrying me out of the hospital the fastest they could. Still surrounded by the beautiful screams of 'Pierce The Veil's Bulletproof Love.

"And now the sunsets turning red 

Behind the smoke 

Forever ends alone, yeah"

"You've gotten thrown into this bed  

That tastes of you and me 

It'll never leave my lips again 

Under the blinding rain"

Without hesitation I jumped into the first cab I saw. The taxi-driver groaned slightly at my sudden appearance. I could see his mouth moving in the car-mirror, but my loud music blocked the sound from reaching my ears.

"Sorry?", I questioned removing one of the plugs from my ear.

"Where are you going ma'am?", his rasp tone repeated, slightly annoyed by having to say it twice.

I thought about that for a second I guess away from 'him' wouldn't be a good answer so I just answered the only place I could think of. The only place I was save.

"Doncaster."

~*|~*|~*|~*|~*|~*.

A/N: READ THIS!!!

Okay so I know at first the plan was to let Alexa revenge Louis and then fall in love with him.

Now, however, I understand that that is impossible to do with the characters of Louis and Alexa being so delicate and layered. It would not do them justice and it would also just seem forced.

so I will change the title, plot and summary to what I have in mind for the story now and I hope my sudden change of plot won't stop you from reading the chapters still to come because I promise you this will truly be a very touching story about love and overcoming memories that will hopefully linger your thoughts.

The new title will be: Runaway Children

Because both Louis and Alexa tend to run away from their trouble. It will be initiated at the beginning of next chapter.

Well bye

Charlotte x

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...