6. Chapter Six
I looked around the car nervous. Harry hasn't said a word since we left. We sat in silence as he drove down the busy streets. We turned, and drove a while longer until the road had become dirt. "Harry, where are we going?" He sighed and stayed silent. He pulled up to a building and hopped out. I followed his lead. I watched as he pulled out a small suitcase.
"Harry what's going on?" He turned to me silent. "Just follow me." I follow closely behind as he pulls the door open revealing a bleak place. The walls were grey and it was windowless. But the place was huge!
We walked up to a desk. "Um, hi, I'm Harry Styles and I had called at an earlier time." The woman looked from him to me. She nodded. I glanced up at the wall and froze.
A Helping Hand: Mental Facility
Helps all youth in troubling times.
"You must be Chantelle. I'll show you to your room." She stood up but first a big man in a black security uniform walked over. "This is Martin he's your guard." I stare shocked. Martin grabbed my arm gently my suitcase in his other. "Let me go." I tried to shake him off but he just tightened his grip to the point where it hurt and I knew I'd bruise. "Hazzabear, tell them let me go." I begged. He just stood there with a sad look. A tear rolling down his cheek. "Harry. Please." My voice cracked. "C'mon we gotta go." Martin said and began dragging me off. I kept watching Harry. "How could you." I mouthed. He didn't reply. I turned around as we were about to turn a corner locking me away from Harry for god knows how long. "I HATE YOU!" I scream. I'll never forgive him. I'll never forgive anyone.