Mad House

One time, Rose overheard one of the nurses joking that it wasn't a normal day at the Brim until someone got hauled away by Raoul and Peter. And it was true: there was always someone, somewhere who blew up and had to be locked away. In this case, it was Harry Styles.

Rose sat there quietly during group and watched as Harry grew more and more restless until he finally exploded and had to be removed. Normally, this wouldn't really be surprising, as he was prone to episodes like that. But this time, he was going around saying how there was a murderer in the hospital, someone who was still killing people at this very moment. It was obvious that his words had unsettled almost everybody, whether he was lying or not. Rose didn't think much of it. Harry was sort of a jerk to everybody, but he'd always been decent to her. One time, he'd caught a couple of boys bothering Rose, so he'd punched them all in the face. It had gotten him two weeks of solitary confinement, but when he'd gotten out he assured her it was no big deal.

She'd been thankful for his help, at any rate, because the boys at Brindebrim scared her. Sometimes, they would take her book and hold it high over her head, making her reach for it. When she stood up, they'd corner her, blocking her so she couldn't move around them. What's the matter, sweetheart? they'd ask, coming closer. Why don't you talk? You dumb or something? Then, they'd put their hands on her, stroking her hair, her arms, brushing her bottom lip with their fingers. Let's see if we can make her scream. I want to hear her scream.

Rose flinched. She hated thinking about stuff like that, because all it did was make her feel ashamed. She started walking again, dragging her feet to where the rest of the patients were getting their medication. During the first six months she'd been at Brindlebrim, Rose had attempted to kill herself five times, so the doctor decided to put her on a bucketload of anti-depressants that didn't really work. She knew most of the kids just hid them in their cheeks until they could spit them out, but Rose always swallowed her pills in the hope that one day they would make her feel better.

Suddenly, there was a loud, ear-splitting scream that echoed through the hallway. It sounded like Niall. Further down, there was a large gathering of people. She could hear the nuns yelling, instructing kids to go back to their rooms. Sirens wailed in the distance. Rose drifted closer, ducking under and around people in her way. To her right, she watched Zayn intercept Valentine, trying to move her away. Two of the nicer nurses, Delaney and Millie, were standing over a sobbing Niall, attempting to soothe him.

And then someone in front of Rose moved, and she saw the body. It was a girl, her long black hair matted with blood, her teeth smashed in, eyes blank and glassy. Rachel Tooley.

Rose knew Rachel Tooley. She was maybe the only person who enjoyed Dr. James' advances, something Rose could never understand. How could she enjoy being touched that way by someone so dirty? It obviously didn't matter now, because Rachel was dead. There was blood trickling down the linoleum floors, and the air was pungeant with the rusty smell of it. Rose felt her stomach turn as she stared at Rachel's body, seeing nothing but those blank, unblinking eyes. The room began to spin, and she stuck a hand out, trying to find a wall for support, but there was nothing at all, and she was floating away . . .

Suddenly, someone's arms locked around her waist and began to tug her down the hallway. Rose went rigid, gasping down a lungful of air. A voice muttered in her ear, "You don't wanna see that." Rose allowed herself to be pulled into the janitor's closet and propped up against the wall. She looked up in time to see Louis, the piano boy, closing the door behind them.

The sight of that got her heart thudding even more, and she backed up, nearly flattening herself against the wall. She was locked inside a closet with a boy who had verbally attacked her a week ago. Who knew what else he would do now that they were alone? She felt her breathing go shallow, the room getting smaller, tighter, the smell of blood still lingering in her nose.

Louis' eyes widened, and he crouched down next to her. "Whoa, hey, easy. M'not gonna hurt you. I swear. I just - you were about to fall, and it's crazy out there. I just wanted to help you." He ducked his head a little. "And I wanted to apologize. For, uh, what happened the other day. I didn't take my meds and that can turn me into a sort of crazy bastard. So, yeah. I'm sorry. And I'm Louis. And I know you're Rose. I'm not creepy, or anything, I've just seen you before and I know who you are. Sorry."

By now, Rose had relaxed her stance a little bit, now that she knew he wasn't going to hurt her, but her breathing was still uneven. Louis furrowed his eyebrows. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she moved away, almost by force of habit. "Sorry," Louis said again. "I guess you don't like being touched."

Rose shook her head. Louis frowned. "You're shaking. I think you're in shock . . . will you please let me do something? Can . . . can I at least hold your hand?"

And maybe this was the last straw, because Rose felt like she was floating away, like there was nothing and nobody holding her to the ground, keeping her there anymore, so she nodded. Louis reached out and laced their fingers together, squeezing them tightly. "Breathe," he said softly. "Just breathe. It'll be okay."

The minutes passed, and the two of them just sat there. Rose felt her breathing gradually begin to slow down, and the room wasn't so hot and cramped anymore. For a mean, angry boy, he seemed pretty gentle at the moment. A picture of the eyes she'd drawn many times before flashed into her mind briefly. Holding Louis' hand was like holding a heartbeat, or a butterfly. Something completely real and totally alive.

By now, he had his legs pulled up to his chest, the arm that had the hand Rose was clutching dangling over his knees. "Better?" he asked.

She nodded. She squeezed his hand a little, trying to get the message across. He glanced down at their interlocked fingers and shrugged. "It's no problem," he said. "You looked scared." He tilted his head towards the door, listening. "I think it's over," he said. "Should we go?"

Rose nodded, a little more reluctantly, and they stood up. Louis opened the door and led her out. Rachel's body was gone, thankfully. A few nurses were cleaning up the patches of blood, and some police officers were gathered nearby, talking in low voices.

One of the nurses, Delaney, glanced up and spotted them. She rushed over immediately. "Rose! Louis! Thank goodness we've found you. Where did you go? Louis, what did you do?" She glanced down at their hands, which were still joined together. Louis noticed this and dropped them.

"I've not done anything to her," Louis said, scowling. "She was scared, so I brought her into the closet and calmed her down. Held her hand and whatever. Christ."

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain," Nurse Delaney scolded. "We were all very worried about you." When Louis rolled his eyes, she added, "Both of you." Turning to Rose, she asked in a much softer voice, "Rose, are you all right?"

Rose nodded. For some reason, people tried to treat her like she was a little girl, always making sure they knew where she was and what she was doing. Delaney started to ask something else, but Louis interrupted, "She was in shock, but like I just said, I calmed her down. You'd know that if anyone in this stupid place listened to me."

"That's enough, Louis," Nurse Delaney said sternly. "You can go back to the rec room now. Rose, if you want, you can go lie down until dinner if it'll make you feel better. I'll check on you in a few minutes." She sighed. "We've all had a very exciting day."

"What exactly happened to Rachel?" Louis asked.

"The police said it was a suicide, and that's all you need to know. Now, go on." She shooed them away.

Rose and Louis turned and started off down the hallway. Although Rose was feeling a little better, she decided it would be a good idea to rest. She stopped when she reached the girls' section of the hospital. Louis stopped, too, and looked at her. "Tired?" She nodded. "Okay. Well, see you later, I guess." He smiled at her, and she noticed that when he did, the corners of his eyes crinkled. Rose stared at him for a beat or two, and then, for the first time in a long time, she smiled back.

The next morning, it was announced over the loudspeakers that there would be group therapy every day this week for an extra hour to help with the patients cope with the death of Rachel Tooley. Rose dutifully trudged into the room and took her usual seat, glancing around the room. Niall was there by himself, which was strange. Usually he could be found with that new girl, Adeline. Rose had two empty chairs on either side of her, and that was probably how it would stay. Not that she minded, really. It was nice knowing nobody could touch her or bother her, but sometimes she wondered what it would be like to not be considered a freak even in a mental asylum.

Louis walked in with Harry and Zayn. The two of them took seats on either side of Valentine. Louis rolled his eyes at them, scanning the room until his eyes landed on Rose. He crossed the room in a few quick strides before sitting down in one of the empty seats next to her.

This was a first. Everyone knew that Rose liked to sit alone, and no one certainly wanted to be the one to break the ice with the mute girl. Louis, however, didn't seem to care. "Okay if I sit here?" he asked.

Staring up at him, Rose nodded, and he settled down into the seat next to her. One of the boys, Robbie, (who gave Rose an uneasy feeling in her stomach every time she saw him) snickered, glancing at them. Louis rolled his eyes and said, "Fuck off, Robbie." To Rose, he said, still in a loud voice, "He's just upset because Rachel died and now he's got no one to jerk off to."

From across the room, Zayn, Harry, and Valentine all burst into laughter. Even some of the nurses looked like they were trying to suppress smiles. "That's enough, Louis," Dr. James said pleasantly, coming into the room and shutting the door. "And the rest of you. Let's not start the week off in solitary confinement, all right? Now, moving on. I know most of us have been affected by the death of Miss Rachel Tooley, so for individual therapy, everyone is required to see me at least once this week. Also, the church will be open at all hours, so feel free to go in there and, er, pray for Rachel. Questions?" No one said anything. "Good. I look forward to . . . meeting with all of you."

The doctor's eyes landed on Rose, and he winked.