I Will Find You (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 3-Truth

It’s been weeks since that day at breakfast, the day Harry broke and promised Louis an explanation to his insanity. He had almost put his life at risk and instead of feeling dreadful about it, he felt a sense of clarity. I have been miserable for the past year, Harry had concluded after that day, so why should I care if I lose my life or not? I’d rather be dead than alive another day being unhappy.

                But then he hears that awful, dreadful voice fill his thoughts again, flooding out any chance he convinced himself to seek out help.

                “No Harry. You deserve to be living in pain, remember?”

                So, although weeks had passed and Harry had been going out of his way to smile at Louis more lately, Harry decides he will keep his secret. He will keep it at the lowest depths of his heart.

                Harry wakes up at four in the morning, aching and emotionally exhausted. Along with weeks passing from talking with Louis had been weeks without his sleeping pills. And, well, let’s say the young boy wasn’t taking it very well. The first few days he could handle, just the usual restless night with the recurring nightmare. But as those few days turned to weeks, Harry started to get withdrawal symptoms. Along with his frequent flinches whenever touched, Harry was experiencing the shakes and started retching at the sight of food. Retching, because there was so little already in his shrunken stomach. So, Harry got up sore with his spirits plummeting to the depths of hell.

                Putting a beanie over his slightly greasy hair and slipping into on the baggiest clothing he can muster from his suitcase, Harry opens up a terrace door to once again another hotel room, of many, on the band’s world tour. The slight morning breeze racing its way across his rosy cheeks, he huddled further into himself and sat along the edge of the overhang. Below him were early morning streetwalkers in jogging suits and the homeless still asleep on their usual park benches. In the distance was Brooklyn Harbor, the sun rising from the murky city water.

                Harry took a deep breath and sighed to himself. How peaceful, he thinks. If only the people would never wake up. Then it would stay perfect forever.

                “What are you thinking about, mate?”

                Harry looks over, startled, to see Zayn at the neighboring balcony, smoking a cigarette. Casually leaning against the cold brick that made up the hundred floor building, Harry thinks he has never seen someone as good looking or as beautiful as his friend. With only a pair of joggers and a slightly wrinkled t-shirt thrown on his fit frame, he looked like he was ready to do a photo-shoot. Harry has only ever wished to look like this.

                Instead of answering his friend, he got up from his protective position and walked closer to Zayn’s balcony. He stuck out his hand, asking permission to have a smoke, portraying the emotions he felt without using words.

                “You don’t smoke.”

                Harry looked at him straight in the eye, with a small smirk gracing his thin, chapped lips.

                “Well, mate,” he chuckled, surprising Zayn and himself, “I think I do now.”

                Not waiting for an answer, he reached over and grabbed the joint. Putting it to his lips, he pulled the smoke in to his lungs deeply, letting it sink in before blowing it back out. Taking a deep breath, he ignored Zayn’s one of countless worried expressions and sat back down to once again gaze out at the city before him. It was getting more crowded. He didn’t like it.

                Harry heard some shuffling and then again was left in silence. Curious, he looked back over at the neighboring balcony to see Zayn sitting at the edge facing him, feet dangling through the spaces in-between the bars. Pair of eyes were looking at him, expectantly.

                “I have a feeling you want to talk about something?” Harry said to him, shuffling to get in the same position. Once he mirrored his friend, he added, “It’s either that or you’re thinking about jumping.”

                Zayn’s head snapped to his. “Is that what you were thinking about Harry? Were you thinking about jumping?”

                “Don’t be stupid,” Harry muttered. “You know I wouldn’t.”

                Zayn laughed humorlessly. “To be honest, mate, I don’t know you anymore. And let me tell you something—no, don’t interrupt me, prick. I’m telling you this, and you’re going to listen.

                I don’t know what happened to you. You used to be so outgoing, funny, and happy for god’s sake. But then you met that fucking bastard Nick.”

                Harry quickly looked down, trying to block out what was to follow next.

                “He screwed you up, didn’t he?” Zayn stated, more than question. “Harry, look me in the eye and say he didn’t screw you up.” When Harry continued looking downwards, he almost sneered, “Fucking look at me.”

                Harry snapped his head up to meet Zayn’s, but instead of saying the words that were almost formed on his tongue, started to cry.

                Nobody bothered to talk in the following minutes, with the only thing being heard was small sniffles coming from the younger boy. Sensing Harry would talk when he was ready, Zayn waited until he was ready.

                “Yea,” Harry eventually croaked out, “I guess you could say that.”

                Zayn was left a little surprised. This was the most Harry has ever said about his ex-boyfriend, and he certainly wasn’t expecting what came out next.

                “I didn’t think I would ever tell anyone... but fuck. I need to before it kills me.” He cleared his throat one last time before looking back at Zayn. “I wasn’t good enough. I’m never going to be good enough. He always told me that I was too fat and needed to lose weight, or I was stupid and young and needed to grow up. But he loved me Zayn… he did. But one day he got really mad because I was talking to Louis and he... he changed.” Harry stopped and took a shuddery breath. “He got really protective a-and one day I didn’t pick up when h-he called... and he drove to our hotel. Drove to our fucking hotel five fucking hours away, and hit me.” At this point, Harry could barely mutter words out, he was sobbing.

                “Mate, I’m coming over. Unlock your door.”

                Before he knew it, Zayn was walking into his room and was cradling the younger boy in his arms.

                “That fucker. Harry you knew none of that was true, you know—“

                “That’s n-not all, Zayn.” Harry hiccupped. “I know it’s true; I’m fat and guly and I’ll never be good enough for anyone. But I can change that. I’ve been trying.” Unconsciously, he moved his hands down to his stomach, feeling his concave tummy.

                “Oh Harry...” Zayn murmured, tears in his eyes.

                “But it’s the last thing he did that really got to me…” Taking a deep breath and preparing himself for what he was about to admit, Harry looked up into his friend’s eyes.

                “Zayn… Zayn he fucking raped me.”