Homeless

Chapter 1

When Harry was little, he had always wanted to be a singer. He loved the feeling he got when he sang, like he was floating. He and his mother would sing together...she would sit on the piano bench and sing in harmony to his young falsetto voice. They did everything together, and neither of them minded one bit. Harry was the happiest child anyone could know. That is until Harry's mum remarried a man named Chris.

Chris seemed like a decent man. Anne just loved him the second she met him, and while Harry was wary to have Chris come into their lives, he had accepted him, trusting his mother's instincts. Harry's father had left him and his mother when he was born, and it didn't bother him much now. He decided that he was better off without him, and he doesn't usually carry anger towards him.

Harry was a happy boy, up until the age of about twelve. Chris and his mother had been married for a year, and the puppy love they once had was fading fast. Chris would get angry at Anne and would scream in her face, spitting hatred filled words towards Harry and his mother. It escalated quickly; he began to get more destructive, shattering precious items against the walls, threatening her with menacing words as he towered over her.

Finally, he succumbed to violence. Harry remembered the exact day he had witnessed it; it was a summer day, warm and comforting to everyone but his family. He and his childhood friend, Ed, had just finished passing a baseball, and Harry was walking home, alone, to his house. Compared to all of the other houses, his looked bare, lonely. He was on the porch when he heard a crash from inside the house. He ran inside, scared of what he'd find.

"Get your bags, pack them, and LEAVE." Chris had yelled at  Anne, who was crumpled up on the ground.

"NOTHING you say will make me leave. I will not take your bullshit anymore, Chris. Harry and I are staying. We stay as a family. It's your turn to leave."

"If you do not leave in the next hour, I kill him. I kill your precious little Harry, and you will have

no one. Do you understand me?"  

Harry remembers slowly walking to his mum, who was trying to get up. He remembered whispering, "Mum?" in confusion, not quite understanding what was happening. She got up and pushed past him, and he could hear her sobs that were muffled by her hand. He followed her into her room, and watched in horror as she grabbed a duffle bag, and piled some of her clothes, toiletries, and other necessities with her. She put a picture of Harry and herself, which was them sticking their tongues out at the camera, on the top of the bag and then zipped it up. She took off her necklace which she had worn ever since Harry could remember, and placed it in his palm. It was a heart, and engraved in the inside it said:

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”

Harry looked down at the necklace for a moment before looking back up at his mum, the tears in his eyes mirroring her own. "I love you, Harry. I love you with all of my heart. I know that this might not make complete sense right now, and it might seem like I'm am leaving you like your father, but please know that I'm doing this for you, and that I will come back when it is safe, Harry. I love you so, so, so very much. Goodbye."   Harry couldn't remember what he said back, or if he had said anything back. All he remembers was the feeling of hopelessness that filled him up, and that never did seem to go away.

***

It had been a few months after his mom left that Chris had started to abuse Harry. First he did it out of anger, hitting him and screaming words of hatred, blaming him for Anne leaving. After a while Harry did start to believe it was his fault his mom left. It was his fault his mum left, it was his fault Chris was so angry, it was his fault his father had left... It was all his fault. He went to bed crying almost every night, scared, alone, helpless. All of his friends had lost interest when Harry had stopped being the normal cheeky energetic Harry they had become friends with in the first place.

He had no one, and it scared the shit out of him.

After about six months, Chris began sexually abusing him. Harry was so confused of why it was happening to him, but he never fought back, he was desperate to have a friend or a dad or a mum in his life that he put up with it, just to make Chris happy. He was so so alone, though, and soon after the attempt to get on Chris' good side, Harry realized that there was no hope. He decided he was going to run away.

He was thirteen and a half by then, and he had about fifty dollars to his name. He waited one night when Chris was gone at a bar, and he grabbed his duffle bag of clothes, lots of penut butter and bread, cans of food, a can opener, a small blanket, his fifty dollars, and his mother's necklace. He set off into the city of London.