Do You Realize? |l.s.|

XXI

I know that I said I hated school before, but I didn't know shit then. I know now, what it truly feels like to hate school, because I don't think the bullying has ever been this bad. Maybe it's because I avoid Harry now so they get more of a chance to have me alone, but whatever the reason is, they seem to hate me now more than ever.

I walk home everyday with several new bruises and I go to the nurse every other day. I think she knows, but she hasn't said anything yet, thankfully. I'm scared to make the wrong move at school everyday, because if I draw attention to myself or piss anyone off in any way, I'll get the shit beat out of me before noon. I'm exhausted, looking over my shoulder constantly, and being scared of basically existing.

Me and Harry are walking home right now, actually, and I've got a few kicks to the ribs so it sort of hurts to breathe too hard, but I manage to mask it easily enough. Harry's been asking me questions like how my day's gone and if anything crazy happened, but I mostly answer shortly or with a simple shrug. I've grown accustomed to not speaking at school, and frankly, nothing else is going on in my life except for being bullied so I've hardly got a single thing to talk about. Not to mention, I'm still pretty upset over seeing Harry with that guy.

"You've been quiet since New Years," he says suddenly. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I shrug, kicking a pebble that's in my path.

"Did something happen?" he presses.

"No," I say. "I'm alright."

"You don't seem alright. You seem anxious."

"I'm fine, Harry," I sigh. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about what?" he asks me.

"Nothing," I say, rolling my eyes. "I just don't have much to say, that's all."

"You always have something to say, Lou," he says. "You can talk to me about it, if you want. I won't tell anyone, promise," he tries again.

"There's nothing to tell, just leave it."

"Louis, please don't keep anything serious from me, okay? I'm seriously worried about you right now. Just tell someone if anything is going on," he says finally.

"Yeah, I will," I nod. "If something ever happens, I'll tell you."

"Alright," he says, not sounding too convinced. This goes on for a few more days and I grow used to looking in the mirror and seeing blue and purple skin. I've actually had to cover it up with a hat or my hair if it's on my face, but they usually go for the stomach or torso. Harry seems to stop trying so much after are little talk, which I'm grateful for. I can't have him prying in on my life, he shouldn't have to worry about me. I doubt he actually cares, anyways.