Shattered

My entire body felt heavy. My head felt as though it was slammed into a brick wall. I groan as I roll over and snuggle into my pillow, trying to get comfortable. It was no use. Getting fed up, I bring myself to a sitting position.
"What in the bloody hell is wrong with my bed?" I shout.
Then I realize that the reason why my bed was so uncomfortable was because it wasn't even my bed. I was sleeping on an air mattress and my 'pillow' was a wadded up sweatshirt that didn't even belong to me.
"Well, I guess that explains my crooked neck." I yawn, rubbing the back of my neck as though that would ease the soreness.
My vision was still all blurry and in sleep mode. Even without my sight, I knew something was... off. I swing my legs over the side and begin to stretch every part of my body, sighing in content with the satisfying crack that came with it. Much better.
I peer about me, my surroundings. They were newer than the previous night. Instead of sheet plywood for the walls and floors, it had white plaster-walls, and abrasive, worn-out cedar flooring. However, what really caught my attention was the wooden boards nailed over the floor-to-ceiling windows. But why?
I took cautious steps to the crudely nailed planks, pulling back the black sheer curtain that lightly draped over them, I peered out through the spaces.
I was met by a bright light that nearly burned my eyes out of my sockets, but they quickly adjusted and refocused.
I saw plants. Untamed and unkept. I could not make out much due to the hinderance of the boards, but I made a mental note to explore it before I ditch.
The sudden sound of a knock half scared me out of my skin.
"Rebecca?" I heard their voice from the other side of the door.
I made no effort to respond. I heard the knob of the door twist before being carefully pushed open. Fringe-boy's head pops in and instantly my heart rate begins to regulate itself. He offers an appologetic smile. He opened the door a bit wider to straighten out his posture.
"Hope I didn't wake you." He says. I smile politely and shake my head.
"I-I, there's breakfast on the table. You're more than welcome to eat with us."
As if Louis had read my mind, he added, "Normally m' mates Liam, and Niall, are down there as well, in case you were wondering. Th-they're my mates- and, uh..." I could hear it in the bloke's voice. He seemed nervous. "They're nice, I promise."

I felt an eversoslight smile perk up at the corners of my mouth as I nodded. Louis gestured to follow him as he lead me down a series of dark hallways- every window boarded up just the same. I didn't ask why, though. I continued to follow Louis through the various halls and down a winding staircase that lead us into a cozy kitchen.
There, sitting around a round rustic-looking table, were two other boys.
"Ms Lane-Mitchell, These here are my buddies Liam Payne and Niall Horan. Lads, Ms Lane-Mitchell."
That was one of the people who were yelling last night, I thought. Niall gave me a curt nod, adjusting his thick framed glasses, before standing up from the table, excusing himself and disappearing around the corner before either of the two could get a word in. Niall had to be twenty one- tops; all of them, actually; and was awkward about it, and it was all just abrupt. Liam cleared his throat like he was about to speak, but he diverted his eyes to the half finished scone in front of him.
"Well," Louis piped, breaking the silence that had flooded the room. "Seems like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Then he laughed at his own joke. But Louis wasn't really laughing. It sounded forced and strained.
It is the kind of laugh one does when they didn't expect something. The three of us knew this, but accepted it anyway. I decided to change the subject.
"What even is this place?"
It was kind of fascinating, in a way- didn't make me think of this place as quaint or comfortable in the slightest, though. Louis' face broke out into a grin.
"How about a tour after breakfast?"
* * * *
After watching them clean up the kitchen, I then followed them out to the entry hall.
"...To your left we have the TV room. . . although there's no teli," Louis began, chuckling a bit at his own comment. Just like the room I woke up in, the windows were boarded up.
"And to the right is the study." Liam pointed to a pair of grimy-looking cedar doors age with chipped paint and long-dried dirt.
"Fun fact, this is Niall's favorite room." Notes Liam.
"With all those books and learning kind of stuff? Why would he willingly go in there?" Louis grimaced, pulling a face as well.
"Because he probably knows that you wouldn't willingly go in there to harrass the poor bloke." countered Liam.
The blue-eyed boy huffed before walking past him and opening the door to the study. "Hey, let's hang out in Ni's nerd heaven." Louis said. "Willingly."
"He's gonnae fucking kill you..." I heard Liam mutter under his breath as he followed behind Louis.
I followed the boys into the pitch black room. Just barely I was able to make out the outline of their silhouettes. Next thing I know, I am tripping over what felt like a stack of books.
"Ow!" I hiss. I felt two pairs of hands catch and help me regain my balance.
"Careful."
"It's too dark in here." I complained. I began to wonder about the inkened space, my arms outstretched and feeling around for some sort of light.
"You'll get used to it." one of them mumbled. Just as my hands brushed over a switch, one of them grabbed my hand and yanked me back.
"Don't touch that."
"Why? Its a just light, are you all Amish or something?" I felt like I was talking to air, I couldn't see them.
"Listen Rebecca, we have a system here? Part of that is sparse use of the lights."
"But why?"
"Because," I heard another voice, a third. "Somethings are better left unseen."

Notes