Photography (HS)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17
Harrys pov

Today has been so fucking boring, I've been home all day. My day started how it normally does. I got up, had a shower, threw on some clothes and i ate an apple. However when I went to leave for college my father stopped me and said that I couldn't go in today. When I asked why, he told me I had to stay home and help him with some numbers for the warehouse he's been working at.

You see, my father may be a drug dealing businessman but he isn't so good with the mathematical side of it. That's why he needed me. All day I've been sat at our kitchen table summing up all the sales he's made in the last two months. I usually have to do this once in a while so my father can keep our boss happy.

I've only just come up to my room to chill out before my father has me doing more shit around the house. I'll probably have to tidy up all of his beer bottles that find themselves dotted around our house. I don't know if you have guessed, but my father's a drunk.

My head feels frazzled from the amount of figures and numbers I've been staring at for the past 4 hours. I like to say I'm not too bad at maths but doing mass amounts still fucks up my head.

I chucked my phone onto my bed and walked over to my desk in the corner of my room. The only thing that makes me feel more human is drawing. I'm not sure why but it's been something Ive loved to do since I was younger, I used to draw all the time with my mother. My sister would join sometimes as well.

My desk was already covered in sketching paper and pencils so I really didn't have to get anything out to start drawing. I picked up a pencil the size of a screw, there's something about using a small pencil. It just feels more comfortable.

I wasn't planning on drawing anything specific, just whatever comes to mind. I like drawing in silence. It allows me to concentrate only on what I'm drawing instead of the shit going on around me or the shit going on in my head. However, my silence was rudely interrupted when I heard the sound of my father's footsteps stomping up the stairs.

I carried on with my drawing thinking my father was just going to go in his room but the sound of the door swinging open made me drop my pencil and turn my body in the direction of my door. In came my father with a rage filled look on his face. He threw something onto my bed and stood with his arms crossed staring me down.

I arched my brow in confusion on why he looked so mad but once I got up from the chair I was sat in and looked over at my bed. My sketchbook sat cover down in the middle of my bed. That's when I instantly knew that Briony had been round. I remember leaving it at hers the night before. My plan was to get it after college but obviously that all went to shit.

"I thought I told you to stop this shit." My father continued to burn his eyes into my own. He was leant back on one foot while tapping the other, waiting for my response.

"You know my college course is photography, that's what I do when I go to school." I scratched the side of my head like this was the most obvious answer.

My father shook his head at me and uncrossed his arms. He took and couple of steps forwards closer to me. I took and step back so I didn't have to be close to him. The tops of my legs hit my desk so I couldn't go back any further. I kept my vision on my father, he stopped about thirty centimetres in front of me. I could feel his breath hitting me in the face.

"Well something tells me that you are doing more of this shit with that brunette whore who gave it to me today... she told me you left it at school but judging by her stutter and her nervous state, I would say she was lying." My mouth dropped at the name he called Briony. She is nothing like a whore, she's far from it.