Winter Sun- Larry Stylinson

October 16th.

And just like the rest of my books, this one is shittier than the last.
The spelling is awful, the way I've written it makes 6 year olds piss themselves and my boyfriend said it looks awful.
But I had fun so take your poopy party elsewhere. I wrote this book for shits and giggles (and to bring my trauma here instead of to a therapist)
I WILL NOT BE PROOF READING JUST BECAUSE I HAVE FREE WILL

"Harry your sister needs more attention, I'm sick of you throwing fits. So I'm moving you away so that she can have that."

My eye twitches. "You- are you on acid?"

I wasn't sure why I'd said it. I didn't even mean to it just sort of happened. "Excuse me?"

But after that I wasn't sure there was any going back.

"That's not what I meant to say. On that note though. I think Katie does actually take acid- or, uh- do? Acid? I'm not sure how you consume it but I know that she's at high risk for becoming a bleach- no. I mean- uh, you know, maybe I should just stop."

"You think. Your flight leaves in four hours. I want you out of the house in one of those." I start to look around, confused. "I don't have any stuff to pack."

"You don't own clothes?" I shake my head slowly. "Nope. You binned them in a fit of rage. You said 'look at this! Look at what you made me do!' And then I said- something to do with Taylor Swift and you slapped me and called me a fish- it was actually- really weird. I'm not sure what prompted you to call me a fish but I guess I'll get over it... maybe."

"Shut the fuck up. Seriously it's getting ridiculous. Just shut up." Katie lets out a huff.

"See he's doing it now!" She wails out. "He's taking all your attention again! Why do you do this!?"

"Are you on drugs right now?" I whispered. "Because I heard from- some, random dude who sold me- tried to sell me drugs. That apparently a switch in moods is sign for some really bad drugs."

I was just talking shit.

"What?" Katie starts laughing. Quickly stopping to clear her throat. "Yep."

My mum points to the front door. "I want you out. Now."

"One day, she's gonna be- 46 years old teaching glee club kids- dinsey songs telling them it was peak music and you're gonna wish you'd kept me." I nod. "I would kill you if your grandparents didn't already know about you."

I blink at her. "That's- not good," I heard my dads footsteps and bolted. "Bye!"

*2 hours and a flight later*

Standing by the gate I start to question how she'd gotten all this done without my knowledge.

The visa, the passport, the flight.

All of it.

I don't even remember having my picture taken.

This was probably the most amount of money she'd ever spent on me and it sort of sucked.

It felt a little illegal.

"Can I help you kid?" Oh god he's American. "Your face seems- disturbed." It smells like burnt wood in here it was gross. "I am lost."

"Ah, okay well if you queue in this international line over here and just wait it out you should eventually get through the border."

"The border into America is a lot more underwhelming than I'd remembered." He chuckles. "Yeah it's not the best."

"Will I have to talk?" He nods. "You have all your documents ready so it should really just be your name and if you have anything illegal in your bag. But you don't seem to have a bag so. You should be okay."

"That's stupid. Thanks." The line was far too long. It was ridiculous. I've seen concert lines shorter than this thing.

I don't even remember getting past it. I'd spaced out so far that I'd moved myself.
I could've said anything to that lady and I would never know.

"Where is my grandson!? No he was supposed to be here an hour ago! I will have you fired you pickle eyed little fuck!" There she is.

"Harry!" She smiles at me, holding her arms out. "Hi Nina." I laughed.

"Sorry about my wife," he whispered to the guard. "Her lack of respect stems from her lack of motherly love."

"Jordan." He rolls his eyes. "Hi peewee." I give him an awkward toothy smile. "Hello."

"You have no bags?" She sounded angry about it. "I own nothing to place in bags. Bringing empty bags and suitcases just seemed like a waste of suitcases."

"You haven't changed then." I chuckle to myself. "No cause I got no clothes."

"I was speaking metaphorically. Peewee." I was distraught, violated and confused all at once.

"Why would you even say that to me. Words hurt Nina. They hurt." She takes a step back, shaming me silently. "Your clothes are wrinkled and dirty- your shoes are ripped, your laces aren't even tied right- you are 18 years old who taught you how to tie your laces?"

"The sponge." I smile. "The sponge? A sponge taught you- are you shitting me right now Harry? SpongeBob taught you how to tie your laces?"

"That's his name. His name is Bob. It's so simple yet I forget every single time." She shakes her head at me. "His name is SpongeBob."

"No his name is bob. He is a sponge. That's like calling me human Harry. It's stupid and a waste of breath."

"So are you. Get in the damn car." It took me a good couple seconds to figure it out.

But by that time I couldn't be mad. All I could do was laugh. "How the hell do you have the top grades?"

"The women love me." She smacks my chest. "No!" She yells. "The women don't love me?"

"Keep talking. I swear I'll make you live in a box." I sigh. "I love boxes. Especially the ones that are shaped like boxes. They're so nice."

"You are a nuisance. You need to be studied." Sitting in the back seat I take her phone from the console. "Can I play a song."

"Harry I swear if you play-"

Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

An all time favourite.

It's unknown to me why, but everybody is sick of it.

Ignoring her undying urge to murder me I stayed sat in the back seat. Singing along for the millionth time this week.

I didn't know any other song she'd made— that's a lie. I think.

But this one I knew.

It smelt like vanilla in the car. It was nice. Better than the airport.

"Please refrain from running down the stairs." Jordan warns me. "Whyyy?"

"Because they're marble." Turning down the street I just sat in a mood for a second.

"Don't give me that stink eye Harry."

"It's not a stink eye Jordan it's a- swamp- eye. The eternal bog thing- from. Labyrinth. Fucking kill me. I wanna, die!"

"Oh get over yourself." He spits back. "Jorndan. That really hurts you know. I mean I'm showing signs of mental struggles and you are telling me to get over myself."

"The way you look is a sign of mental struggle. Seriously I've seen new born babies look cuter."

"I'm about to call the police this is child endangerment." He laughs. "You are the endangerment you fucking tonk."

"What the fuck is a tonk?" He shrugs. "A noise made when something hollow falls."

"Why did you shrug if you knew what it was?" He shrugs again. "Seemed right."