They Don't Know About Us (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter Nine: ALEX & HARRY :O

Dedicated to my little brother who started nursery today :)

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Enjoy :-)

ALEX

Emptiness. That's all I felt. It had been two months since Harry had left, and I still cry myself to sleep at night.

Two months. Two months since I've felt his kiss, two moths since I've heard his husky deep voice, and two months since I've seen his beautiful, angelic face.

I wonder if he thinks about me, if he has someone else. If he misses me. I wonder if I'm in his dreams every night, like he's in mine.

Harry promised he wouldn't let me get hurt. He promised he'd always be there for me. That he'd never leave me.

He broke both of those promises.

I am hurt. Once my bruises had healed completely, Adrian found it necessary to inflict some more onto my cleared skin. I was so weak, battered, helpless.

I went to bed wishing I didn't wake up in the morning.

Sometimes I blame myself. For not taking the opportunity when Harry told me he'd help me get free from this hellhole.

Other times I blame Harry. He BOUGHT me here. He FORCED me in that van.

Did he ever care about me? Or was it just an act?

It can't have been, Harry protected me from his father.

So why did he leave me? I don't get it. I know his Mum came, but he left me without a second thought. He could of at least helped me get free first.

Tonight I'm gonna escape. No one can stop me. I'm going.

I know where Adrian keeps rope - God knows what for - and I tied it to the leg of my double bed. The double bed Harry once also occupied.

Banishing thoughts of Harry from my mind, I chucked the rest of the long rope out of my bedroom window. Usually it was locked, but for some reason Emmett had forgotten to lock it. I don't know why.

I saw the rope ended three feet off the ground. That was okay.

Using the last amount of strength I had left, I climbed out of the window, the rope supporting my weight, feet helping me go downwards.

I let go of the rope, falling and losing me balance due to how weak I was. I landed on the hard ground with a thump, wincing in pain.

I got up, limping up to the streets.

I walked.

And walked.

My feet were aching, blistered and sore. I don't know how long I'd been walking. I felt close to collapsing.

I was on a main street. I didn't recognise it. There was a phone box, but I didn't have any money. I sat outside a shop and cried, begging for money.

People took pity on me, handing me coins. Other people shook their heads at me.

After an hour, I had about twenty pounds. That's good enough, I guess.

I went over to the telephone box and put some money in. Then I dialled a number I would never forget.

"Hello?" My Mum's voice answered after a few rings.

I felt like fainting when I heard it. I was suddenly unable to speak.

"Is anyone there?" My Mum asked curiously.

"Mum, it's me," I choked out, tears rolling down my cheeks.