I will rarely ever put an authors note in the beginning of a chapter.
I'll only put one in the beginning if it's really important. This one doesn't count haha :D
"Mr. Coleman would like to see you in his office."
Mr. Coleman is such a dick. He's the one that put me in here in the first place! Everybody here thinks I'm a psychopath for 'killing my parents' but I only killed my dad as self defence. I've tried telling them a million times that it was self defence and only self defence and all they keep saying is "That's what they all say." But they don't understand. They don't understand anything at all. Maybe they threw me in here because I was seven and stabbed my father 18 times and said it was self defence. They thought I was full of shit because I used the words "self defence".
Apparently I was "too young" to know what self defence was according to them. As a matter of fact I was a very smart child. My academic skills were super high for a seven year old. Hell, they still are!
"Mr. Styles, now." The guard said in a harsh tone as unlocked my cell and held out the handcuffs. What does he expect me to do? Put them on myself?
"Turn around." He demanded. Oh! So that's why he was holding them out.
Okay so you know that time I said that my academic skills were still super high? I may have lied a little. I guess being locked up in this hell hole for thirteen years has it's effects on me.
The guard locked the cold metal around my wrists to guide me to Mr. Dickhead's office.
I chuckled at my own thought causing the guard to give me a stern look. I don't even know his name. I think that's pretty bad since I've been seeing him the past thirteen years. Holy fuck, it must've sucked ass having to guard in this fucking ward for thirteen years when he could've gotten a better job.
We started walking down the long concrete hallway and I decided to ask what his name was.
"Mr. Guard?" I asked.
"What do you want?" He snapped back, stressing the "you".
"Well damn. Who pissed in your holy water this morning?" I half laughed.
He gave me a pissed off look and said "Pft, like you know anything about being holy." Again, stressing the "you".
Holy shit, why does this guy hate me? I didn't do shit to him. Then again he may hate everybody who is locked up in this shitter. I decided to push that thought to the back of my mind.
"Actually" I began. "I know a lot about being holy, thank you very much. My mother and I used to go there EVERY Sunday." I lied.
Pft I didn't go to church. Not once, not ever, and I never plan on going and that's a promise. I hate the thought of "worshiping" something that doesn't exist and is total bullshit.
"Bullcrap." The guard said. I decided it was a good time to ask his name when he least expected it.
"What's your name?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't be a complete dick again.
"Ro- wait, why do you want to know?"
"I was just asking because I didn't want to keep calling you Mr. Guard."
"Well, my name is Robert."
"Nice to know your name after thirteen years, Robert. I'm Harry." I smirked.
"No shit Sherlock, I've known your name for thirteen years, horrible thirteen years."
"Well you didn't have to be a dick about it."
We were both silent.
I stopped at one cell, and what I saw is something I will never get out of my mind.
I couldn't help but stare at the body that was hanging by a rope. They must've hung themselves. Well, I don't blame them, being locked up with nothi- wait... Where did they get the rope if they were threw in there with nothing?
I shook the thought from my head and continued walking. It seems like all I can think about is things that don't matter.
Robert and I reached a large silver door with "Mr. Coleman" engraved in black letters. I cringed just reading the name. I hated Mr. Coleman with a passion and I don't know why. Maybe it was because he threw me in here without wanting to hear what I had to say.
Robert pushed me aside to open the door and gestured to me to go in once he opened it.
I peered inside Mr. Coleman's office. It was nicer than I expected for this shitty ward, but it was still very shitty.
The walls were beige with notes and pictures of the inmates, which I thought was very creepy. There was a black filing cabinet in the right corner of the room with a grey printing machine on top of the filing cabinet which was supposed to have all that crap Mr. Coleman has on his walls in, but since he's a creep I guess he loves looking at his inmates. Fucking creep.
There was one single chair in front of his desk. I have to say, that chair looked very comfortable.
"Ah, Mr. Harry Styles, have a seat." Mr. Coleman said.
Robert unlocked my handcuffs and left the room. I heard the door lock, which confused me a lot.
I took a season the chair and I was surprised on how soft the chair was.
"So... Why exactly am I here?" I asked, half confused.
"Don't act like you don't know."
"Uhm... I don't know."
"Mr. Styles... You are in deep trouble."
"Mhm." Was all I said because I zoned him out. I didn't look at him not once because I was too distracted on everything on the wall behind Mr. Coleman. All the names of the inmates were there so I just read them all, getting to know something about each and every one of them. My eyes wandered to the white computer on Mr. Coleman's desk. There was a picture of me on the screen, along with all of my information and the crime I committed at only seven years old. It still amazes me how I managed to do that so young.
I guess Mr. Coleman caught me staring because he turned his computer off and slammed his fist on the desk. It didn't bother me, I didn't even flinch. I don't get frightened anymore... It's like, fear can't and won't bother me because it knows it can't get to me.
My eyes were still glued to the black screen of the computer. Mr. Coleman slammed his fist against the desk three more times.
"HARRY! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!?" He screamed.
"Mm what? Oh, yes I'm listening."
"GOOD! As I was saying." I heard him begin as I zoned him out once again. My eyes went back to wandering. I looked down at my feet and saw something metal. Keys. Why was there keys on the floor? I bent down to pick them up. Mr. Coleman once again slammed his fist against his desk. I grasped the keys, making sure they didn't make a sound and quickly hid them in my sleeve.
"MR. STYLES!" He yelled. I could hear the anger in his voice, and it amused me.
He began speaking again so I just did the same thing I've done before, zoned him out.
You see? This is why I fucking hate him. He does unnecessary things like putting me in this shit hole, and then slamming his fists and yelling at me when I can hear him perfectly fine.
I need to get out of here, I can't stand Mr. Coleman whatsoever.
I need to find a way out.
That's when the idea hit me.
If you're the kind of person who doesn't like long ass chapters, then you've come to the right place.
I don't like writing long ass chapters because I know that when I'm reading a book and the chapter is reaaaaallllyyyy long, I just get annoyed and stop reading.
Therefore I will not have long ass chapters :D
Should I keep writing? Or is this too horrible?