Beauty and The Beast
Chapter 9
**Louis' P.O.V**
I sat on my black comforter thinking of what I would say. 'Hey Belle. Please forgive me.' No it's too blunt, too simple. 'Hey Belle. Please forgive me. Or at least let me tell you my side of the story' That sounded okay. I guess I could say that then just wing the rest of the argument. I can't believe she's mad at me for sticking up for her. Although I can't blame her, she walked in on me punching someone. I ran my hand through my damp hair from my shower and looked out at the stars. My phone read 2:13 in the morning. So I'm sure Belle is sitting on her roof, crying over what ever she does. I just want to make whatever is hurting her go away, permanently. She doesn't deserve whatever is making her cry. So today is, or yesterday was, Friday. So tomorrow I would walk over to her house and talk to her. She will probably slam the door in my face, but it's worth the try. I plugged in my phone and laid underneath the warm blanket. Although sleep never really did come. I sat for about an hour before deciding to grab my comforter and climb onto the balcony that leads out of my room. I set my two pillows down and sat on one, the other was for my back. I stared at the beautiful night sky. I was a bit lonely, it just felt so empty without someone else being here. I have never felt lonely. Maybe when I was little, but I always wanted to be the quiet kid in class, not being bothered. But as the therapist my mother had sent me to said, "Sometimes when people lock them selves in solitary, it drives them insane. It can change them in drastic ways." Ever since then, that has been my excuse for the way I am. My temper and the thoughts I wish I didn't have. I began to fill the silence with my humming. I went from tune to tune, Invisible by Hunter Hayes to Human by Christina Perri. I let my thoughts stray. And when I did I started to have the thoughts, the images, the ideas.
"Please don't. Louis please" She would plead. "Louis look at me. Please" The tears would begin. She'd try to fight against my knife. I wouldn't look at her. "Louis look at me. Please it's me. Just look at me." She'd pause. "The lease you could do would be to look at me in the eye before you do it." She would say calmly, I would look at her. See her tear stained cheeks, those eyes that changed colors, bright red cheeks, and red nose. "Louis? Please" She will say calmly as if it's the only thing that will help. I will feel my hand begin to shake, the hand that is holding the knife, the hand she will place hers over.
"I-I I'm sorry" I will stutter letting the tears that I had built up for 18 years.
"It's okay" I will drop the knife and she will take hold of my hand, grasping it, still looking at me.
I have never had a thought end like that, never.
I sat on my black comforter thinking of what I would say. 'Hey Belle. Please forgive me.' No it's too blunt, too simple. 'Hey Belle. Please forgive me. Or at least let me tell you my side of the story' That sounded okay. I guess I could say that then just wing the rest of the argument. I can't believe she's mad at me for sticking up for her. Although I can't blame her, she walked in on me punching someone. I ran my hand through my damp hair from my shower and looked out at the stars. My phone read 2:13 in the morning. So I'm sure Belle is sitting on her roof, crying over what ever she does. I just want to make whatever is hurting her go away, permanently. She doesn't deserve whatever is making her cry. So today is, or yesterday was, Friday. So tomorrow I would walk over to her house and talk to her. She will probably slam the door in my face, but it's worth the try. I plugged in my phone and laid underneath the warm blanket. Although sleep never really did come. I sat for about an hour before deciding to grab my comforter and climb onto the balcony that leads out of my room. I set my two pillows down and sat on one, the other was for my back. I stared at the beautiful night sky. I was a bit lonely, it just felt so empty without someone else being here. I have never felt lonely. Maybe when I was little, but I always wanted to be the quiet kid in class, not being bothered. But as the therapist my mother had sent me to said, "Sometimes when people lock them selves in solitary, it drives them insane. It can change them in drastic ways." Ever since then, that has been my excuse for the way I am. My temper and the thoughts I wish I didn't have. I began to fill the silence with my humming. I went from tune to tune, Invisible by Hunter Hayes to Human by Christina Perri. I let my thoughts stray. And when I did I started to have the thoughts, the images, the ideas.
"Please don't. Louis please" She would plead. "Louis look at me. Please" The tears would begin. She'd try to fight against my knife. I wouldn't look at her. "Louis look at me. Please it's me. Just look at me." She'd pause. "The lease you could do would be to look at me in the eye before you do it." She would say calmly, I would look at her. See her tear stained cheeks, those eyes that changed colors, bright red cheeks, and red nose. "Louis? Please" She will say calmly as if it's the only thing that will help. I will feel my hand begin to shake, the hand that is holding the knife, the hand she will place hers over.
"I-I I'm sorry" I will stutter letting the tears that I had built up for 18 years.
"It's okay" I will drop the knife and she will take hold of my hand, grasping it, still looking at me.
I have never had a thought end like that, never.
Thank you!
4/4/14