Something Amiss (Hoodie x Reader)

Twenty Four: Intermission

You had no clue what the time was when you awoke. You'd spent hours screaming into your hands before you passed out, unable to stop the flashbacks from mercilessly flooding in. The tireless onslaught of adrenaline had finally lead to a shallow sleep, fitful and unfulfilling. The next time you'd be able to sleep peacefully seemed a world away. No window in Harry's bedroom, door impossible to pry open in your helpless state. You'd gone from locking yourself in here to escape Brian, to being locked in here by him. You'd tried calling out several times, but he'd never responded.

And so that left you here, on Harry's bedroom floor, sobbing and trying not to look at the walls which you knew had been covered in dried blood not so long ago. The claustrophobia had set in when you awoke, causing another bout of screaming and crying, thrashing against the door to no avail. Another round of cruelty on Brian's part, just when you thought you were on civil-ish terms. And all because you'd been stupid enough to pester him.

You were beginning to sympathise with Harry. He'd gone mad after shutting himself in this room for days on end, and you were starting to understand why. But at least he'd had a phone - you'd left yours in the bathroom, like an idiot - and a working door. He could have left if he'd wanted. You, on the other hand, had no option but to sit here and wait.

Thoughts were creeping into your brain, horrible worst-case scenarios. What if you starved? What if you died in this room? What if nobody found your body for days? You shook them away. You wouldn't let that happen, though you probably deserved it. In the worst case, you'd heave to re-break your injuries and use force to go crashing through the door. E.J. had proved how flimsy the doors in this apartment were, after all. You wouldn't let a thin slab of wood stand between you and the rest of your pitiful existence.

Hours passed, you rocking back and forth with your head in your hands, hyperventilating. With any luck, you'd pass out again just to pass the time. The boredom wasn't helping your slow insanity.

Then, a noise. Your head snapped up, blinking in the artificial light.

Voices.

You listened in, straining your ears. Two voices. Female.

"(Y/n)?"

Footsteps. The sound of the front door closing.

"Where is she?"

Familiar voices, at that. You rose groggily to your feet. Who was that?

"Whoa, where the hell did the door go?!"

You couldn't believe your ears. Lily.

You tried to call out, but your throat was so dry. You could only manage a barely audible croak.

"(Y/n), honey? Are you here?"

Another feminine voice. You recognised the second voice, too; Cassandra. She was crying.

Heart leaping in your chest, suddenly filled with overwhelming, bitter joy, you tried to call out to them again. "I-I'm in here. I'm in here!" You couldn't speak beyond a normal tone, but the volume still ripped your throat raw.

"Cass, down the hall!"

More footsteps, coming closer. Tears of relief pricked at your eyes, you couldn't believe this. You didn't deserve this. If they knew what you'd really done, would they still have come for you?

"She's shut herself in." The voices were right outside the door now. You placed an anxious hand on the wood. "Here, help me move this." The sound of the dresser being shuffled away, a few high pitched grunts of effort.

The door swung open, you took a few steps back.

There, standing there in the light of day, were your friends. They looked awful, both of them with disheveled hair. You'd never seen Lily without heavy layers of foundation and mascara, yet here she was looking like she hadn't slept in days. Cassandra appeared to be in even worse condition, tears staining her olive cheeks; she was bawling. They'd lost their best friend mere days ago, after all, thinking she got slaughtered by her boyfriend. Your brother.