Always You.

Chapter 4

Harry has just admitted he's gay to his only friend in Chicago, probably his only friend in the whole world and the only one who knows his secret. He wasn't sure if he could trust her but he's hoping for the best, Lexi warned him to not be too obvious about him staring at Louis all the time. The school year is almost over and not once did Harry even said a word to Louis or even bothered to say anything.

"Dinner's ready, Har." Harry's little brother Jake said.

"I-I'm not hungry." Harry stammered.

Jake went inside Harry's room and sat at the end of his bed.

"Har, you're so thin. Are you sure you're okay?" he said with a worried tone on his voice.

Just when Harry's about to answer, David barges into Harry's room without even knocking.

"Leave him, Jake. He's such a fucking emo. He's not even worth it." David said.

"Emo" the word kept echoing inside Harry's head, that's what David started to call him ever since he caught Harry inside the bathroom when Harry was only 10 years old and forgot to lock the door. Harry felt intrigued by that word, those types of words that people think mean so little but causes such a deep scar. David says such insulting things to Harry that makes him feel even more worthless than he already is.

Harry knew his mother was gonna yell at him if he didn't eat his food and will still yell at him if he didn't come down to eat. Either way, doesn't matter anymore Annie always finds every little way to yell at Harry: find something he did wrong, point out his flaws, lecture him for every move he does.

So, Harry decided to come down and help set the table: take a tiny bit of chicken, fries and mashed potatoes only to barely even touch them and he prepares himself for the lecture he gets almost every day, night, second, his every move.

"Harry, you barely even touched your food!" Annie began to yell at the dinner table, "Do you even realize how much work I've put into to provide food into your plate? There's a lot of people who are starving and would give anything to be in your position yet you are here being ungrateful for what you have. Stop being so picky about everything, Harry. You can't live like royalty...."

Blah blah blah blah blah as Annie's words enter Harry's ear and exit the other. Same old same old routine as he sits there playing with his food as his mother who says anything and doesn't even have any idea what his son is going through. Like she would even be a help, she would just make it worse. After this, Harry would just give the little amount of food he took to his cat so it wouldn't be a waste.

After this, Harry would be the one washing dishes even if it's David's turn to wash them, David would eventually threaten him to wash them. Jake is too short to reach the sink and too dumb to understand how the dishwasher works. Always Harry left at the table to clean up everyone's mess, washing dishes while Annie lays in the sofa watching TV, David goes out to go party probably fucking the life out of his girlfriend while Jake stands by and watches Harry do the dishes.

Then, more lecture from Annie about how he didn't do the dishes properly and orders him to go get her some cigarettes in her room and pour her some wine. Harry makes sure Jake goes to bed on time so he won't be late for school the next day, makes sure his mom is tucked up in the sofa when she falls asleep getting too drunk, and makes sure all the doors are locked.

Same old same old routine every day every night.

When all this is over, Harry strips down in front of the mirror admires his body, looks at his arms, his legs, his stomach.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. He walks to his bathroom, he has his own now ever since they moved here in Chicago. Making sure the doors are locked.

He turns on the shower into a hot warm bath and he opens his cabinet and takes his razor out. He lets the water touch his whole body warming him up the water running through his thick curly hair. He takes his razor and slowly buries it deep in his arm as blood runs and mixes with the water. He loves the pain, the burning sensation makes him forget all the emotional pain. He cuts again, this time deeper as he slowly lets a little cry out but smiles as he sees the blood running. And another one, deeper. It gets deeper and deeper as his bath gets filled with blood and his feet are standing in his own blood, he stops.

Harry washes the razor thoroughly to remove all evidence and puts it back. He then lets the water from the shower run through his face as he cries about every pain he's got: emotionally, physically and mentally. Nobody can hear him cry through the showers as he lets his bleeding arm drip more until the burning stops. He turns off the really hot shower, you can see steam on his mirrors. He wipes them away and sees himself.

"Ugly," he whispers. He hates looking at himself in the mirror, he is worthless, a nobody, he is nothing.

He takes a towel and dries himself and wears a large sweatshirt then lays in bed awake as he waits for his drunk brother to come knocking at the door at 3am and listen to David call him nasty names as Harry wipes the vomit of his brother's shirt and tucks him to bed where David will eventually forget everything Harry did for him the very next morning.

"Can't wait for school tomorrow, glad I'm invisible." Harry thinks to himself.

This is his life everyday, same old same old routine. Never changes.