Scars [Book 1]✅

Twenty-three

The two boys spent the day together, not doing anything but being lazy and in Harry's case, scared, whenever Louis' dog, Charlie, would pounce on him. He preferred cats by far. By the time Harry had been dropped off at his house it was already eight o'clock P.M..

"How was your friend's house?" Anne asked as her son walked in, knowing he slept over one of the boys houses, but not aware that they skipped school. She secretly hoped that they weren't just friends as she had known about their kiss in the hospital.

"Fine," he mumbled, contemplating if he should tell his mum or not. Though he couldn't resist. "He asked me to be his boyfriend last night," he said quickly, a smile rapidly coming on his face.

Anne gasped, "Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you!" she cooed, hugging her son tightly, who in return, pulled himself away from her, his bruises being pushed on and not feeling comfortable with the closeness. He shot her a smile though, letting her know that it was okay before he made his way to his room. He sighed once his door was closed, and leaned back against it.

He didn't feel too good. His mind was tormenting him, and he knew it was because he hadn't taken his pills that morning due to being over Louis' house. He didn't want to be a burden to the older boy, and had just shut up about it. Though now that he was home he couldn't take it anymore, and slid his hands through his curls, tugging on them.

Don't bother taking them now

Don't do it

Cut yourself, Harry

It helps, it always helps

Harry shook his head, his eyes clenching shut as he took a peek out the door. Seeing no one there he quickly wandered into the bathroom, shutting it behind him.

Look in the mirror, you ugly boy

Look at how fat and messed up you are

You're just a faggot

Worthless

"Stop!" he shouted, his back hitting the wall. "Stop stop stop stop stop!"

His breathing was rigid. His head pounding and his arms now itching. He saw the razor in the shower, sitting still on the tiles. So he reached forward, his hands trembling as he took ahold of the tool.

Do it

Cut yourself open

You deserve it

Harry cried, his tears soaking his cheeks as he brought the metal to his skin. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to hurt himself. Because then Louis would know, and he would be disappointed in him. Harry didn't want that. He knew that Louis actually liked him for once, and he didn't want him to think that he was even more worthless and weak than before. He told Louis that he would try harder, and that he would try not to cut himself again.

Hurry up, Harry

Hurt yourself

No one likes you anyway

It wouldn't make a difference

Cut your arms

"No!" Harry sobbed, curling up in a ball, his knuckles turning white at how hard he was holding the sharp blade. "I don't want to!" he exclaimed, "I promised!" he whimpered, "I promised Louis!"

Louis doesn't care about you

He said the cuts make you who you are,

Prove him right, make more of them and show that they make you who you are

A useless queer

He started to bring the blade to his wrist, and shut his eyes tight, crying harder in disappointment in himself when he felt the cold metal against his skin. "No!" he screamed, and threw the item forcefully across the bathroom, digging his head in his knees, not bothering to watch as the razor hit the wall, breaking in two.

Before he knew it, Anne came rushing in, almost breaking into tears at the sight in front of her. Though she just sunk down, taking her son into her arms and rocking him back and forth, shushing him.

"I d-didn't want to, m-mum, I didn't m-mean t-to," be cried softly, weeping into his mothers chest.

"Shh, baby, I know, I know," she cooed, kissing the top of his head repeatedly.

"I'm s-sorry."

"I know, it's okay, go to sleep, love," she muttered, leaning her head against his as she hugged him, holding him until he fell asleep.

-

This is really short I know but I've had like writers block for this chapter so oh well

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