I Hate You More

Not Very Friendly

Harlen

I sat on my bed, finishing the lyrics to another song I started. Writing was literally the only thing I could do. Well writing, and crying. There wasn't much room for sleeping or anything else.

All these fucking voices in my head
Tell me I'm not good enough for them
They just leave me paranoid
Paranoid
Paranoid again

My efforts to hide the notepad as my father came into the room failed, causing him to lash out at me again, and leave me on the floor with a busted lips. I wished he'd at least give my ribs a chance to heal, because now I'm sure my arm was broken as well. I didn't know what time it was but, based on the sun I could barely see shining high in the sky, I assumed it was around three pm.

"I'm going out," He growled, "don't try anything stupid. I know that'll be hard for you, you dumb bitch."

I waited till I heard his car start, to get up off of the floor and wipe the blood that was dripping from my mouth. I had been wearing a white t-shirt for days, and it was now stained with blood and dirt. You'd think he'd see it and give me something else to wear but, he seemed to take it as a sign to push further. My body was tired, and at the point I was hopeless. No one was ever coming for me. I knew I'd die in that basement but, maybe I should die fighting, instead of laying like a dog on the floor. So, I used everything -which, make no mistake, wasn't much- to push myself up, grab my notepad, and pull myself up the basement steps.

I felt sick at the idea that the door was unlocked. I hadn't tried opening it since probably the week he brought me here, and part of me wondered when he gained confidence that I'd lost hope. It made me feel weak, and ignorant but, I didn't exactly have time to dwell on that feeling. He didn't tell me where he was going. He just told me he wasn't going to be here. So, I had no idea how much time I had. I limped to the front door and looked out it. I then brought myself to the back door of the house which lead to an alleyway, and decided that the front door would be a better option, because I'd be able to get the address.

I went as fast as I could, and started wandering. My body was freezing. I wasn't wearing shoes, or socks, or a jacket. I was just in a t-shirt and sweats but, I kept going anyway. The only thing that would've been worse than freezing, would've been dying in that empty room.

"Excuse me." I asked the first person I could find within two blocks. She was a middle-aged woman who was as around my height, with blonde curly hair, and a frown on her face. She ignored me.

"Hey excuse me," I asked a man who looked to be in his sixties, and was wearing a baseball cap, "can you help me?"

He ignored me as well. I had no clue where I was but, these people were not very friendly.

"Are you alright," a young girl asked me as she approached me. She looked to be about seventeen, and she was showing more kindness and concern than the tens of grown ass adults that were passing by like nothing. I'll admit that I probably looked like a crazy person but, I was terrified, and felt alone, "wait- are you Harlen?"

What?

"Uh no," I answered quickly, "but can you tell me where we're at- and and what day it is?"

"We're in New York City, and it's December third. Are you sure you weren't in a band called Palaye Royale," She asked again, and I shook my head once again. I didn't want a fan of the band meeting me like this. Especially since I wasn't sure if I was apart of the band anymore, "do you want me to give you some cash, or get you anything?"

"No," I smiled weakly, "thank you though. I'll be fine."

I took her unsure smile as an opportunity to keep moving but, she called out to me before I could get too far.