Harry's POV

Three days later I was out of solitary, and I guess it had achieved what it ought to have done. I was acting in a subdued manner, but only because I didn't want to give away the plans that were ticking inside my brain. I was going to take down the whole centre, and watch as the smug grin was wiped off Smith's face.

Without Phoenix I felt like I had no one to confer with, so I was left to try and come up with ideas by myself which proved unproductive. Either my plans were too big or weren't big enough, and I couldn't think of anything that would be able to stop Smith and his criminal ways.

"I can't be the only one who hates this place," I whispered aloud as I sat in the common room staring at the wall in front of me, probably sounding like a crazy person.

"We all hate it here," a teenage boy in a wheelchair came over to me, having heard my declaration and I smiled at him nervously- it hadn't been a comment directed at anyone.

"How much does everyone hate it here?" I asked him, my eyebrow raised as I stared at this kid; I had been under the impression that most of the patients enjoyed the heavily scheduled days and constant monitoring, because that was what they needed and couldn't get at home.

"Enough for, on average, two kids a week to try and," he gestured slitting his through and stuck out his tongue for effect.

"People do that here? I had no idea..." I trailed off my sentence as I realised how detached I had actually been from the centre; I hadn't really spoken to anyone other than Phoenix and knew virtually nothing about the other patients I was living alongside.

"Yes Harold, while you were busy kissing Phoenix's arse the rest of us were living with this reality. The people here don't care about us, Smith especially doesn't, and we want just as much out as you," this boy, who I didn't even know the name of, seemed more intelligent than I could ever be.

He had figured out weeks, probably months, before me what kind of place the centre really was. I felt less important, knowing that I was not the only one who possessed the knowledge about how corrupt the centre was.

"How come no one has done anything about it?" I asked him, and he simply sighed at me like I was child asking a stupid question.

"We're constantly being monitored. We are at least," he raised an eyebrow at me, "so none of us can get anything that could help us shut down this place."

"I don't understand, no one monitors me at all. In fact, my nurse only ever comes to wake me up and give me food," my brain was whirring at hundreds of miles per hour as I tried to work out what was happening, and what I was being told.

"The alcoholics never get monitored. Why waste time on people when all you have to do is keep them away from a bottle of something? You shouldn't complain Styles, at least you don't have pills shoved down your throat and a stern faced nurse glaring at you every time you wake up," the kid was telling me this nonchalantly, like it was common knowledge.

I had been so clueless. I had often wondered why Phoenix had never done anything too extreme other than set fire to things, and it was because she physically couldn't do much more. The rare times she was free she would spend scavenging for lighters, or walking around aimlessly like the night she had caught me in the staffroom. Anything I had experienced at the centre was nothing compared to what the other patients had to deal with.

"There's no point talking about it though, nobody can stop Smith or this centre. I can see you're plotting something Styles, but I wouldn't even bother. Nothing can take this place down."

"We could try," I said, feeling my spirits weaken every second.

"We could try and fail, and be stuck here for the rest of our lives. Let's just do our time," slowly he wheeled away from me, but I couldn't just let him leave.

"We could burn this place to the ground," I yelled at him, and he stopped right in his tracks, his face paling.

"I wouldn't shout that out loud if I was you Harold," he came closer to me, "but that could work. But it would destroy all the evidence of what happened here, and this place will have insurance. It will just be built right back up again. People could get hurt..."

"Or we burn half of this place, make sure everyone is outside before we do so. Set alight all the bedrooms, the places without any evidence. When the police come and firefighters come, they could find the documents in the reception-"

"What documents?"

"Does that matter? Look I need you to convince the other patients- they won't listen to me," he shook his head solemnly at me but I knew I couldn't  let this go, "Please, I know you want this just as badly as I do."

"You don't even know my name Styles. Why should I help you do something that could get me locked up in here for life?"

"Because I know you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't try."

Sighing, he nodded at me as a sign of defeat and I silently cheered, not wanting to do anything to change his mind back. I had an alliance with someone, even though I didn't know his name. He went away, and I was left to wait for the news about the other patients and if they would be willing to help out as well. Closing my eyes, I was thankful that I had a plan. A risky one, but a plan all the same.

***

The common room began to get more and more full and patients came inside, their nurses leaving them at the door to 'socialise'. I occasionally caught people staring, and it was clear that the news about my plan had been passed along.

My friend from earlier on came near to me, and I strained my ears to make out what he was saying. 

"They're all in, except Phoenix. It's not because she's been brainwashed, that has faded again. It's because she thinks she'll get given the blame."

I looked over at her, looking as beautiful as ever and she caught my gaze. Shaking her head, she turned away from me and I knew that she would difficult to win over. Of course she would be the first person to blame if a fire started in the building, and I didn't know how to convince her that she wouldn't get in trouble.

"Tell her that the fire won't touch her rooms or the ones next to it intentionally, and that we'll try and keep it as far away from her as possible," I whispered back, and I watched as she received my plans. Her face remained expressionless, but I could see her brain thinking it over.

The plan was set, the day and time were still yet to be confirmed.  But The Summerlea Rehabilitation and Treatment Centre For Young Adults
was going down in flames. Hopefully never to rise again.

So Harry wants to burn the place down! Will he get away with it? Will everyone be okay? Will anyone get hurt? Will it have the intended effect?

Vote and comment if you enjoyed :)