Lost Words [discontinued]

{ Chapter 3-My Mum }

(SONG: You Found Me- The Fray)

"So tell me about yourself", Harry asked, walking next to me. After I had left the flat, I had gotten more comfortable around him. Like a brother or sister, I could tell him anything. Now, we were just walking around at the local park, freezing our asses off.

"Okay. Well I'm sixteen, I'm an only child, I love camping and my mum is ill." I answered all at once. I tried to not talk about my mum but it just slipped out. I tried to cover up the last part. "What about you."

Harry completely ignored what I had just said. "Wait, what did you say? You're mum is ill?" he looked at me shockingly. I didn't want to answer him. It brought back too many memories to talk about her.

~three years ago~

"Mum, I'm home!!" I shouted, coming in through the front door of my dwelling. School had been so great that day. No one made fun of me, teased me, or called me names. A few girls pointed and laughed but that was nothing. It was able to roll off my shoulders by itself; I didn't care.

I tossed my book bag on the dirty dark brown couch and sat down. I forcefully pulled off my beat up sneakers and socks and carefully set them aside. I grabbed the remote and clicked on the television to see what was on. Automatically, the news appeared on the screen. I would have changed the channel but the story was actually very interesting. Something about a woman murdering her two husbands and trying to frame it on her daughter by almost killing her. "Mum, did you see this?" I called out, not taking my eyes off of the screen. No answer. "Mum?!" I tried calling louder because I thought maybe she was in the bathroom or something. No answer. I got up and walked up to her room. I stood quietly in front of the closed door and looked down at the light shining through the bottom crack. "Mum?" I whispered.

I put my hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. I looked around cautiously and carefully, but I didn't see her. I took a step in her room and walked around for a bit. Slowly, I turned to the bathroom and saw her sitting on her feet, knees pulled against her chest, on the scale.

"Mum, what are you doing?" I mumbled, looking around. She looked at the numbers on the scale and tiredly looked up at me with sad eyes.

She sighed and said, "one hundred-forty two pounds." She looked back down at the numbers. I furrowed my brows and scratched my chin. What was she going on about?

"Umm", I managed to say. "Why are you sitting there?" It was silent for a moment. I chewed on my lip while waiting for her to speak.

"Your father was special", she started to say. I winced at the sound of her say it; 'Your father'. "He always made me feel beautiful. No matter what. I always felt.... Ugly when I was alone or by myself. But he made me change my mind. At least for a little while." My knees buckled under me and the blond hairs on my arm started to stand. "When he died, I had no one to tell me I was beautiful. Or pretty or lovely." I felt tears fill behind my eyelids. "Now.. Now I remember how I use to feel." A trickle of water pushed its way out and rolled down my cheek. "Ugly. Fat. Disgusting. It's all coming back to me now." She looked at me with sorrow and depression. How could I not have seen it? She didn't eat her suppers for the past few days. Whenever I made her her lunch for work, she told me I could have it for school and that she'd pick something up. She was starving herself because my dad had left us.

My face was now stained with tears. "Mommy", I stuttered.

~present time~

"She's anorexic." I said with an annoyed tone. I didn't want to talk or think about it anymore but apparently, Harry did.

"Oh", he said awkwardly. "I'm sorry about that. It must be tough."

"It is." Harry glanced at me and saw that I was crying. He sympathetically put his arms around me and held me tightly. I pressed my face against his chest and sobbed into his jacket. He whispered soothing words into my ear as I waled. Thinking about my mum's condition brought out the worst in me. Every time someone mentioned her or how they never see her anymore, I want to either yell at them or brake down and cry.

Harry hushed me and kissed my head softly. "Shhh.. It's okay Addison. I'm sorry," he said, almost inaudible. I shook in his arms, trying to calm myself down. I was ruining our date, I had to stop crying.

I pulled away from him. "It's okay", I sniffled. I whipped my red, puffy eyes. I looked at my hand and saw black marks all on the side. I groaned, realizing I completely messed up my makeup. Harry looked at my hand with a confused expression. He didn't know what was on it until he looked at my face. Harry started to laugh obnoxiously. I sighed. That wanker. That stupid, sex haired wanker. "Oh my god, Harry. Shut up." I angrily said. He smiled cheekily, showing off his dimples.

"You look beautiful," He said with a flattering smile.

"What ever!" He laughed and then licked his lips while looking at mine. I could feel him looking at me with admiration but I felt if he kept looking at me like that, he'd see my flaws. "So how come you asked me out tonight?" I shyly asked, looking down at my feet as I walked. He didn't answer me right away, but when he did, he was so quiet that I had to get closer so I could hear.

"I don't know. I guess because when I saw you in the shop, you looked so lovely. And when I talked to you, it was hard to speak because you were so cute and carefree and you weren't like, nervous around me like most girls." I looked at Harry and he looked back at me. We both stared into each others' eyes for the longest time until I suddenly turned away. Harry had gotten disappointed. He'd hoped that he could kiss me again but since I turned away, he was rethinking his hypothesis about my feelings for him.

"You thought I looked lovely?" I asked desperately.

"Yes.. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Just a bit", I mumbled, almost inaudible.

Harry quickly took my hand and pulled me into him. I could feel his chest moving as he breathed. He put his cold hands on my waist and smashed his lips against mine. His soft, curly locks danced in the wind like we were in a a dramatic movie. He pulled out of the kiss and looked down. "You're beautiful", he whispered. "How can you not see that?" He took my hair in his fingers and started playing with it. "You're perfect."