Sinister World.
× M I S T A K E ×
Harry Styles
Year 2023, Month September
Rochester, Minnesota
~~
I wanted to throw myself onto my knees and beg Parson for forgiveness… if she was alive. I was so angry at myself, I wanted to kill myself. I have never wanted to kill myself… but because of this one stupid fucking mistake, I want to constantly put the mouth of a gun onto my temple and pull the goddamn trigger. I shouldn’t want to do that, but so help me I will if I don’t find out if she is alive or dead soon enough.
I trudged across the highway until I made it to Parson’s home, studying it’s features as soon as it came into sight. It was a one-story house, made out of manufactured brick and I looked through the window to see that the white walls were screaming in pain from the smoke that had constantly been smacked against them. Parson told me her parents were complete assholes, I just had to see it for myself.
When I knocked on the old, rusted wooden door, I placed my hand on the gun on my belt and cleared my throat. A middle-aged woman opened the door, head full of blonde ringlets and red circles around her eyes. I know where Parson got her looks from, because this woman was beautiful, but nothing compared to her daughter’s beauty.
“Can I help you?” She asked, her voice low and rough. She just got done smoking a joint. I can tell. I looked inside the house and smirked when I saw a large fat man walking out through the kitchen with a cigarette in his mouth. “Hello? Dude, I don’t have all day.” Dude? She called me dude.
I straightened up and cleared my throat again, “Miss, I have news on the location of where your daughter is.” When I finished the last part of my statement, her eyes narrowed and tears began to suddenly fall from them. She ushered me inside and went to pull me onto the couch, but my temper was lost and I pushed her onto the couch, standing my ground beside it. The man I saw earlier sat down beside the woman, patting her leg. “Your daughter has been kidnapped and is at the Celia plantation,” I told them, even though I didn’t know if it was true or not. That would be the one place where Louis would take her, and I don’t think he would be that stupid. Then again, this is Louis, so they might be there. I know where I’m going next.
“And? What do you expect us to do about it?” The man in front of me grumbled and I pursed my lips, lacing my fingers together and making him stand up. He was at least a foot shorter than me, and I tried to hide my laughter at his bravery.
“You better sit your ass down, old man. You do not, intimidate me whatsoever,” I said to him and I could tell by the look on his face that he was drunker than hell. I didn’t want to hurt the man, actually, because I didn’t want to be rude to Parson’s parents. But if he lays his hands on me in any way, I’m laying him down.
“Bill,” the woman I met at the door earlier grabbed her husband’s hand and anger suddenly rushed through me for some reason when he elbowed the woman backwards, her frail body landing on the floor, “Bill come on, he knows where Parsie is!”
“I don’t care woman, he threatened me,” the man barked and I crossed my arms.
“I didn’t threaten you, but I can if you would like me to,” I told him and he arched his jaw, turning his head over so that his neck would crack and I mentally told myself, Don’t do it. Don’t lose your temper on this old man, don’t hurt him for Parson. For Parson.
“Bill,” the woman snapped, standing up and grabbing onto the man’s arm again. I was going to hurt him, I was going to maybe kill him if he laid another hand on her. “Please I want to know where my daughter is, I want to know if she’s okay!”
When the man slapped the woman across the face, I grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him across the room, anger seeping through me as the woman on the floor continued to sob. I punched the drunk man many times in the face, some guilt washing over me each time I did. I didn’t want to kill the guy, but beating women senselessly is a big no. Fuck, I sound like a hypocrite.
Then the man punched me back, but it didn’t phase me as I continued to make him suffer from the same pain he gave his wife. The woman clawed at my back and begged me to stop, and something told me that I should have kept going, but I stopped. When I stopped, I pinned my hands to the man’s shoulders and he began to laugh at me, the woman hiding behind me and still crying helplessly.
“You know what’s funny?” The man spit out blood beside my foot and leaned against the wall, making me squint my eyes. “That little girl, isn’t even my little girl. I never adopted her, she was never my daughter. I was supposed to be her step-dad but her mother wouldn’t let me take it any farther because she knew about the sex I was having with Parson…”
I had to take a step back; I had to breathe. I was so angry, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do, but then I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed Parson’s mother in my arms and covered her eyes. Then I pulled the gun off of my belt and quickly shot the man against the wall right in the heart. Petty motherfucker.
The woman in my arms fell to the dead man on the ground and I ran my hands down my face. “You killed him. You actually… killed him!” She screamed at me, standing up and pushing me forward, making me drop the gun in my hand so that I wouldn’t kill her too. “Where’s my daughter?! Where’s my little boy?!”
“They’re… they’re both dead…” I muttered and she covered her mouth, “Because of me.” She began to shake her head, and I shook mine too. Was Parson’s brothers death really because of me? Was… was my Parson really dead? Did I really… kill her?
“Y-You killed my children?” She stuttered and I swallowed, nodding my head without hesitation. She shook her head and took a step back, walking into the small kitchen. I peeked around the hallway and furrowed my brows when the woman came running towards me with a knife. “And you killed my husband you son of a bitch!”
“Come on, lady, I don’t want to have to kill you,” I told her and her knife sliced right through my sleeve, creating a large gash in my bicep and making me look at her with anger. “Fine, you little bitch,” I barked. I snatched the knife right from her hand and she gasped when I shoved the blade right through her stomach. I then pushed her to the floor, grabbed my gun, and ran out of Parson’s old home.
I killed both of her parents. She’s going to hate me, isn’t she? Was it a mistake? Brutally murdering her parents and leaving them on the floor?
~~
After I burned down the house, I felt like a complete asshole. But nevertheless, you have to get shit done in this world or you’re going to be killed. You have to kill to live, that’s what my father used to tell me, and by God, I am abiding by his rules.
I drove my car to Parson’s home, and I made it to North Dakota with just enough fuel to get back to Illinois. But I had to get something before I went home; I needed to kill someone else first. I wasn’t going to go home without revenge. I walked up to all-too-familiar concrete stairs and walked up to the door. I was going to knock, but I decided it against it, so I just kicked in the door. I’ve had a habit of kicking in doors, and I’ve become so good at it that I can do it without barely any sound. You have got to be an expert to do that, and in this case, I am.
When I searched the house, I came to a complete halt when I smelled the familiar, addicting aroma of my beloved Parson. She was in here, she was in this room. I began to trudge around the entire first floor, then on to the second, third, fourth, fifth. I had no luck in finding my Parson, but I did find the bloodied clothes she was wearing the day I shot her… but it was an accident… it was a complete accident. I grabbed the dress in my hand and pulled out my gun, stomping down all of the halls again to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
I finally decided to take a break from searching, because I knew I wouldn’t be finding them any time soon. If I couldn’t find them now, then they probably weren’t even here. God, I am going to fucking kill you, Tomlinson.
I walked outside of one of the guest bedrooms I found myself searching in and sat down on one of the chairs on the metal balcony. I always admired Jared’s mansion, it was almost better than mine, but ever since I had the penthouse attached to the top, I always thought about adding another story. I took a few deep breaths and swallowed hard when a flashback of Zayn making me shoot Parson flashed in my mind. I was so glad to find him dead on my front porch, and I didn’t even have the dignity to bury him. I just threw him in the river down from my House. There are too many people I have thrown into that river and―
When my feet hit the ground, anger built through me and my body became stiff. I couldn’t even tell how angry I was; I could taste the anger, and a familiar bland taste of metal rose onto the back of my tongue. I wanted to believe that what I saw wasn’t true, I didn’t want to believe any of it.
Parson, my beloved Parson, was walking hand in hand with my old, psychopathic motherfucking friend Louis. Oh but no, he’s not my friend anymore. He’s not even going to be a person after I am through with him. As I watched the two farther, Louis began to touch her more; he was kissing her where I kissed her, he was touching her where I was supposed to be touching her, and God knows I wanted to put a bullet in his head right then… but Parson looked up to where I was standing.
A small smirk spread across my face when I brought my gun in sight, and she covered her mouth, turning her whole body towards me and making Louis turn to where I was too.
Say goodbye to your wonderful prince Louis, my beloved.
Year 2023, Month September
Rochester, Minnesota
~~
I wanted to throw myself onto my knees and beg Parson for forgiveness… if she was alive. I was so angry at myself, I wanted to kill myself. I have never wanted to kill myself… but because of this one stupid fucking mistake, I want to constantly put the mouth of a gun onto my temple and pull the goddamn trigger. I shouldn’t want to do that, but so help me I will if I don’t find out if she is alive or dead soon enough.
I trudged across the highway until I made it to Parson’s home, studying it’s features as soon as it came into sight. It was a one-story house, made out of manufactured brick and I looked through the window to see that the white walls were screaming in pain from the smoke that had constantly been smacked against them. Parson told me her parents were complete assholes, I just had to see it for myself.
When I knocked on the old, rusted wooden door, I placed my hand on the gun on my belt and cleared my throat. A middle-aged woman opened the door, head full of blonde ringlets and red circles around her eyes. I know where Parson got her looks from, because this woman was beautiful, but nothing compared to her daughter’s beauty.
“Can I help you?” She asked, her voice low and rough. She just got done smoking a joint. I can tell. I looked inside the house and smirked when I saw a large fat man walking out through the kitchen with a cigarette in his mouth. “Hello? Dude, I don’t have all day.” Dude? She called me dude.
I straightened up and cleared my throat again, “Miss, I have news on the location of where your daughter is.” When I finished the last part of my statement, her eyes narrowed and tears began to suddenly fall from them. She ushered me inside and went to pull me onto the couch, but my temper was lost and I pushed her onto the couch, standing my ground beside it. The man I saw earlier sat down beside the woman, patting her leg. “Your daughter has been kidnapped and is at the Celia plantation,” I told them, even though I didn’t know if it was true or not. That would be the one place where Louis would take her, and I don’t think he would be that stupid. Then again, this is Louis, so they might be there. I know where I’m going next.
“And? What do you expect us to do about it?” The man in front of me grumbled and I pursed my lips, lacing my fingers together and making him stand up. He was at least a foot shorter than me, and I tried to hide my laughter at his bravery.
“You better sit your ass down, old man. You do not, intimidate me whatsoever,” I said to him and I could tell by the look on his face that he was drunker than hell. I didn’t want to hurt the man, actually, because I didn’t want to be rude to Parson’s parents. But if he lays his hands on me in any way, I’m laying him down.
“Bill,” the woman I met at the door earlier grabbed her husband’s hand and anger suddenly rushed through me for some reason when he elbowed the woman backwards, her frail body landing on the floor, “Bill come on, he knows where Parsie is!”
“I don’t care woman, he threatened me,” the man barked and I crossed my arms.
“I didn’t threaten you, but I can if you would like me to,” I told him and he arched his jaw, turning his head over so that his neck would crack and I mentally told myself, Don’t do it. Don’t lose your temper on this old man, don’t hurt him for Parson. For Parson.
“Bill,” the woman snapped, standing up and grabbing onto the man’s arm again. I was going to hurt him, I was going to maybe kill him if he laid another hand on her. “Please I want to know where my daughter is, I want to know if she’s okay!”
When the man slapped the woman across the face, I grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him across the room, anger seeping through me as the woman on the floor continued to sob. I punched the drunk man many times in the face, some guilt washing over me each time I did. I didn’t want to kill the guy, but beating women senselessly is a big no. Fuck, I sound like a hypocrite.
Then the man punched me back, but it didn’t phase me as I continued to make him suffer from the same pain he gave his wife. The woman clawed at my back and begged me to stop, and something told me that I should have kept going, but I stopped. When I stopped, I pinned my hands to the man’s shoulders and he began to laugh at me, the woman hiding behind me and still crying helplessly.
“You know what’s funny?” The man spit out blood beside my foot and leaned against the wall, making me squint my eyes. “That little girl, isn’t even my little girl. I never adopted her, she was never my daughter. I was supposed to be her step-dad but her mother wouldn’t let me take it any farther because she knew about the sex I was having with Parson…”
I had to take a step back; I had to breathe. I was so angry, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do, but then I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed Parson’s mother in my arms and covered her eyes. Then I pulled the gun off of my belt and quickly shot the man against the wall right in the heart. Petty motherfucker.
The woman in my arms fell to the dead man on the ground and I ran my hands down my face. “You killed him. You actually… killed him!” She screamed at me, standing up and pushing me forward, making me drop the gun in my hand so that I wouldn’t kill her too. “Where’s my daughter?! Where’s my little boy?!”
“They’re… they’re both dead…” I muttered and she covered her mouth, “Because of me.” She began to shake her head, and I shook mine too. Was Parson’s brothers death really because of me? Was… was my Parson really dead? Did I really… kill her?
“Y-You killed my children?” She stuttered and I swallowed, nodding my head without hesitation. She shook her head and took a step back, walking into the small kitchen. I peeked around the hallway and furrowed my brows when the woman came running towards me with a knife. “And you killed my husband you son of a bitch!”
“Come on, lady, I don’t want to have to kill you,” I told her and her knife sliced right through my sleeve, creating a large gash in my bicep and making me look at her with anger. “Fine, you little bitch,” I barked. I snatched the knife right from her hand and she gasped when I shoved the blade right through her stomach. I then pushed her to the floor, grabbed my gun, and ran out of Parson’s old home.
I killed both of her parents. She’s going to hate me, isn’t she? Was it a mistake? Brutally murdering her parents and leaving them on the floor?
~~
After I burned down the house, I felt like a complete asshole. But nevertheless, you have to get shit done in this world or you’re going to be killed. You have to kill to live, that’s what my father used to tell me, and by God, I am abiding by his rules.
I drove my car to Parson’s home, and I made it to North Dakota with just enough fuel to get back to Illinois. But I had to get something before I went home; I needed to kill someone else first. I wasn’t going to go home without revenge. I walked up to all-too-familiar concrete stairs and walked up to the door. I was going to knock, but I decided it against it, so I just kicked in the door. I’ve had a habit of kicking in doors, and I’ve become so good at it that I can do it without barely any sound. You have got to be an expert to do that, and in this case, I am.
When I searched the house, I came to a complete halt when I smelled the familiar, addicting aroma of my beloved Parson. She was in here, she was in this room. I began to trudge around the entire first floor, then on to the second, third, fourth, fifth. I had no luck in finding my Parson, but I did find the bloodied clothes she was wearing the day I shot her… but it was an accident… it was a complete accident. I grabbed the dress in my hand and pulled out my gun, stomping down all of the halls again to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
I finally decided to take a break from searching, because I knew I wouldn’t be finding them any time soon. If I couldn’t find them now, then they probably weren’t even here. God, I am going to fucking kill you, Tomlinson.
I walked outside of one of the guest bedrooms I found myself searching in and sat down on one of the chairs on the metal balcony. I always admired Jared’s mansion, it was almost better than mine, but ever since I had the penthouse attached to the top, I always thought about adding another story. I took a few deep breaths and swallowed hard when a flashback of Zayn making me shoot Parson flashed in my mind. I was so glad to find him dead on my front porch, and I didn’t even have the dignity to bury him. I just threw him in the river down from my House. There are too many people I have thrown into that river and―
When my feet hit the ground, anger built through me and my body became stiff. I couldn’t even tell how angry I was; I could taste the anger, and a familiar bland taste of metal rose onto the back of my tongue. I wanted to believe that what I saw wasn’t true, I didn’t want to believe any of it.
Parson, my beloved Parson, was walking hand in hand with my old, psychopathic motherfucking friend Louis. Oh but no, he’s not my friend anymore. He’s not even going to be a person after I am through with him. As I watched the two farther, Louis began to touch her more; he was kissing her where I kissed her, he was touching her where I was supposed to be touching her, and God knows I wanted to put a bullet in his head right then… but Parson looked up to where I was standing.
A small smirk spread across my face when I brought my gun in sight, and she covered her mouth, turning her whole body towards me and making Louis turn to where I was too.
Say goodbye to your wonderful prince Louis, my beloved.
Notes
I have nothing to say, except for how sorry I am for not updating in so long. I'm so so sorry. Please do everything in your power to forgive me? Cos these next few chapters are going to be vile. I can feel it.Love you lots!
Kal xx
@XKALEIGHSTYLES57X
Hey its okay, it was just a request plus I know how much hard it is to update chapters especially when you have many stories. Trust me, I know its brutal :(
Anyways take your time and keep doing the good work :-)
9/20/16