Tolerate It || l.s ✓

Chapter 6

"Gemma I actually can't do it anymore." Harry groaned down the phone.

"What's happened?" Gemma replied, concern in her voice.

"It's mum. I can't deal with her anymore. She keeps calling me all the fucking time. I tell her I can't talk because I'm teaching or something or just because I don't have the mental capacity to deal with her and then she's horrible to me."

"H, I wish I could help you. You know I do." Gemma sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I miss her." Harry muttered, "I miss mum."

"I do too Harry." She said, "I'll come and see you soon."

"I had a panic attack today." He told her, "at work. Mum called me this morning and she was really bad and I tried to be patient but she just started shouting at me and then I went to work and in the meeting they talked to us about what to teach about drugs and I couldn't cope."

"Oh god Harry. I promise I'll come and visit you as soon as possible. Did you have someone there with you?"

"Yeah, but it was someone that I've hardly spoken to. It's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing. You're going through a lot."

"Thank you for picking up the phone."

"You know I'll always be here to pick up the phone for you."

"Thanks Gem, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, love you."

"Love you too." Harry replied. "I better get going. Again, thank you."

"Bye Haz. Call me if you need anything." Gemma hung up and Harry slumped back, drawing his knees to his chest.

His phone beeped and he looked down. Zayn had texted him. He and Zayn had been friends for a while, since college. They had both gone to the same college, and then to the same university. Since university they had gone separate ways, Zayn teaching in a primary school close to where Harry had used to live, whilst Harry had to get away.

Z: Your birthday is coming up!

Harry: can't wait...

Z: not excited?

Harry: it's just another day really

Z: we'll go clubbing! Or we could go to the pub & play darts. I'll visit you.

Harry: thanks Z, I don't mind what we do. It'll be great as long as I'm not alone

Z: of course. How are you holding up? How's things with your mum?

Harry: not great.

Harry sighed, 'not great' was certainly an understatement.

Z: let me know if there's anything I can do mate

Harry: will do, thank you xx

//

Harry couldn't sleep. Every time he shut his eyes he would see visions of things he didn't want to relive.

By now, attempting to sleep was a lost cause. Instead he trudged to the wardrobe and pulled on an oversized knitted cardigan and a pair of baggy flannel trousers.

He reached into the very back of his wardrobe, snaking his hand into a shoe. His hand closed around the box of cigarettes and the lighter, pulling them out.

He kept them in the darkest depths of his room like some dirty little secret. It wasn't as though he intended on hiding the fact that he occasionally smoked from everyone, it was moreso the fact that he wanted to hide it from himself.