The Darkness In Summer- Harry Styles

Part 3

I walked into my house with a grin plastered on my face, only to be met by two not so pleasant faces with frowns on theirs, nothing unusual there then I thought. However I wasn’t too sure as to why they were angry this time, my room was clean and all my chores were completed so I could think of why they would be upset with me, but then again when weren't they annoyed with me? As I closed and locked the front door behind me I was bombarded with questions, "Where have you been?" "What time do you call this?" "Why are you late?" I looked at them confused, they knew exactly where I was I had been reminding them for weeks about this. "I was out shopping remember I told you, I have been telling you and reminding you nearly every day for two weeks!" They never remember anything and they are supposed to be my 'parents'. "No you haven't Summer, why do you have to lie to us?" As usually they twist things and make me seem like a bad child. "I'm sick of this, you two never pay any attentions to me, ever! What was the point in adopting me if you weren't going to treat me like a normal child? I can't wait to leave this shithole and get away from you two forever, I hate both of you. I bet you didn't even remember that it’s my birthday today." In return of my rant I get two very shocked faces staring back at me, "Yeah I thought so. Both of you are useless, call yourselves parents. You don't even know how to be real parents, I wish you two were dead instead of my real parents!" And there we go, I said it and it felt good. I stood in front of them with my arms crossed with a smug look on my face, I have been wanting to say this for a long time but never had the courage to let the words fall out of my mouth so perfectly. My smile soon disappeared when my adoptive dads hands clasped onto my shoulders, I concealed a gasp at the brute force "Please let me go, I'm sorry." I say anything to get him to leave me alone. Before I could process anything he threw his hand forward as hard as he could, whipping it across my face. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls. Vibrations of pain started in my cheek and spread all the way through my face. His palm was bright red, the same red mark that matched the one on my face. He stared at me with her eyes like fire as I was sprawled on the ground, clutching my face. Tears spilled over my cheeks making my cheek burn and ache even more than it already did, I could already feel the swelling and bruising building up from the heat of my cheeks. 

I looked up to see two blank, emotionless faces staring down at me, I couldn't stand the sight of them so I grabbed my bags and ran to my room, throwing my bags to the ground and locking the door behind me, I turned so that my back was supported by the door and slid down hugging my knees whilst crying so hard I couldn't breathe. I was used to this now, panic attacks, not being able to breathe, crying till my eyes had run dry and there was nothing left but an emotionless, weak girl with nothing left.

Once my breathing was steady and my vision wasn't so blurry I lifted my head from my knees, facing the same way in which I always would after something like this would happen. I stood up and walked towards my drawers and opened up my sock drawer, inside the draw was a special box which I hide away from everyone. In the box there are four things; a diary, a pen, a razor and a packet of bandages. It had been a week since my last argument, I was doing so well. This was the longest I have gone without having to do it. But the voices are back again, as if their voices are on repeat, glued in the back of my mind saying things like "you're worthless, nobody wants you, we don't care about you, you're better off dead, you're pathetic, leave" I try to ignore them but I can't, they suffocate me and I can't get rid of them no matter how hard I try. I tell myself that there are people who care, I have friends they must care for me, but the voices argue back even stronger than what I am, they are taking over me and I just let them. I open the box and lay the items on the bed, I write an entry in my diary of the incident this time, I close the battered book and place it back in the box with the pen. I take the razor and the bandages and go to my en-suite bathroom, I sit on the edge of the bath tub as I usually do. Resting my left arm on the edge of the sink so my arm is above the bowl, I rub the razor between my thumb and index finger of my shaking right hand. As I place the razor on my already scarred wrist I close my eyes and allow a fresh cut to form as I drag the blade across not even feeling the burning sensation and the warm blood trickling down my arm into the bowl of the sink. All that goes through my head is, I deserve this, I am not good enough, I will be better. I let the fresh blood dry up before I wipe the cut clean and place a fresh bandage around my wrist, which will be replaced in the morning by the many bracelets I own.

Once I finished clearing the sink, I place the razor and left over bandages back in my box and hide it safely away in my sock drawer. I then changed into my shorts and vest pyjamas and crawled into my bed, my safety and comfort zone. As I was about to fall asleep I heard the beeping of my phone from my jacket which I had hung up, indicating that I had a new text message. I huffed as I got out of my warm, comfy bed stepping on the cold laminate floor to retrieve my phone, once I had got my phone I scurried back to my bed and placed it on charge as I unlocked it. I opened my messages to find that Harry Styles, who I learned was from One Direction an internationally famous boyband was the reason my phone beeped. I opened up the message and smiled at the simple 'Hey x' displayed on my screen, I quickly texted him a 'Hi :) x' back.  Within seconds of my reply I received another message asking if we could meet up again, I felt that Harry was different so I said yes and suggested a small café, the one where I work. After a short conversation I said goodnight and placed my phone on the bedside table. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be pulled into the darkness I call sleep.