It's been three months. I've been in this stupid cell. You'd think with such a nice receptionist the place would be nice. But no, it's just like prison. Except instead of orange jumpsuits, it's navy blue. They took away my suitcase and everything I had with me. Do you know how it feels to be locked up, eating the same damn gross cafeteria food, not being able to talk to anyone outside of this hell hole? It's terrible. I've seen things that I should never have seen. Things people could've protected me from seeing.
Harry could've protected me from seeing. I've seen people being whipped and beaten. It's just terrible. The guards walking around a gun on their belt along with a taser and a whip. It's just cruel and having the name A Helping Hand is just a lie. It's terrible. We weren't allowed to have visitors. That's what I was told. So I'm surprised that I'm walking down the hallway Martin beside me.
Martin was one of those nicer guards, that you can grow your trust with. According to the rules we're supposed to be handcuffed when travelling around the building but he trusts me cause I've stopped fighting against him. "Hey do you know who my visitor is?" He shook his head. "Do you think it's my brother?" He doesn't answer. "Yeah, me neither." I answer myself. "Do you have a brother?" He doesn't answer. I shouldn't expect him to, he doesn't make small talk with me, anyone really. He's a reserved guy, likes to keep himself to himself. Reminds me of a younger me. Before One Direction drove me here.
"I had a younger sister." He speaks up. I look up at him, but he continues to walk forward not meeting my glance. I noticed he said had. "What happened to her?" I asked. "This place. She was nineteen. I always visited her. Everyday-" I cut him off. "But visitors aren't allowed." I say, confused. "That's what they tell you to keep you quiet." He says. "Why?" I ask. "Look." He starts, turning to me, we stopped walking. He looked around before leaning to my ear. "This place is darker than it may seem." He says and begins walking again.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" I shout. He turns to me, and I instantly knew my outburst of confusion has come off as anger and has shattered what little trust we had. He stormed over to me and slapped the cold handcuffs on my wrists. He shoved me gently. "Walk." He grumbles. He grabs my arm and holds it tight dragging me along. I had just gotten over the few bruises I had got from other patients and now I could add another to my collection. Yippie!
I mentally cursed Martin, and myself for yelling. We walked down a hallway I've never ventured and he pulled open a heavy metal door that revealed a grey room that was filled with tables that had been drilled to the ground. Patients and non-patients talked and laughed. That's when I saw her.
She looked different. Her hair purple and pink. Her face was the same but she just seemed different. Martin dragged me over to her, sitting me on the chair. He walked away, leaning against a far wall. I looked at the floor. I honestly didn't want to be with her. "I know you're not crazy." She whispers. That catches my attention and I look up at her. "No way are you crazy. I talked to my ex-boyfriend who's those doctors that deal with mental shit and he says that you're just experiencing extreme mourning. You're not crazy Chantelle."
Something in me light up. Hope. "You mean, I'm getting out of this place?!" I couldn't contain my joy. She nods. "After we're done here I'm gonna come back with my ex and they'll talk to the owner of this place and the doctor dude over here and you're outta here!" She smiled. "Well! Go! Get me out of here!" I cheer her on. She laughs and waves Martin over. She stands up. "It was nice talking to you again Chance." She winked. I cringed. That nickname brought back way to many memories.
I stood up and Martin and I walked out. When we were far from the room, I spoke up. "Get a good look at me Martin. By tomorrow I'm outta here!" I smiled. "I'm not crazy. Even got a doctor's approval." He laughed. Not one of those happy ones. But those sick ones. He slid the cell door open and I walked in and he shut the door. "Doesn't matter. No way in hell will Ms. Jackson allow that. No one leaves her facility unless one of her own doctors say so." I felt sick as he smirked walking away.
I'm never getting out of here. I'm stuck in here. Forever. That's when the thought hit me. I'm gonna die in here. I felt to my knees and the weirdest thing happened. As I laid on my stomach I saw Zayn and Louis and they both said in unison.
"Karma's a bitch."