Unheard Cries |H.S|

Chapter 1

Rachel's POV

It's been six months since my dad left me here. Six month of living with Harry Styles. Six months of having no freedom. I lay in the room that was still so unfamiliar, yet I slept here every night. That is whenever Harry wasn't having sex with me in his room.

I hadn't spoken to any of my friends, or Zayn since the first day here. Harry had smashed my phone, destroying all my contacts, and pictures of memories I had. I felt hopeless and alone. Something I never felt. I didn't even know if Zayn knew I was alive. I ached to speak to him but Harry wouldn't allow it. I got up, and walked over to my window which overlooked the city of London. Harry and I had moved away from my hometown. Probably so no one would know where I had gone.

I looked at the bustling people, plenty of freedom as they walked down the sidewalks. I was only aloud outside when Harry said it was okay. He'd gotten me a job with one of his friends who was always staring at me while I worked. It was at a music shop, selling records and equipment. But I didn't have the option of college. Too many people.

I looked around the dim lit room and leaned against the windowsill. I put my head in my hands and cried; something I did often nowadays. I could hear Harry returning home, the door opening from downstairs, the pairs of feet stumbling around were his drunk friends. I shook my head, and wiped tears from my cheeks. I didn't know if I feared Harry, or hated him. Probably both. I heard the footsteps getting closer. I quickly hurried to my bed, and buried myself under the covers, pretending I was asleep. I felt like a little kid, but it was the best I could think of at the time.

I heard the door squeak open, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to act as natural as possible. I heard snickers, and whispers. I hated all of them. I wished they would all fall off cliffs, especially Harry.

"Wakey, wakey, princess." Harry chuckles. shaking me. I shut my eyes tighter wishing this was all a nightmare but I had done it so many times I knew it was real. "Come on, time to get up!" he laughs. I hear the squeak of my bed, and it pushed down, as if it's adjusting to some extra weight. That's when Harry began jumping up and down on the bed, pushing me to my limit.

"You're a fucking childish asshole!" I shout shooting up. I shoved the covers away from me and began storming away from the group. Then Harry grabbed my hand, and pulled me to him against my will, and pulled me to his chest. He smiled down at me, and kissed me. It was wet, and sloppy. I shoved him away. "Stay the fuck away from me!" I yell at him. I stormed out of the room and heard Harry and his friends laughing non-stop.

"You can run but you can't hide!" Harry calls. "I own you!" he reminds me, as if I don't already know.

...

I got off my shift at work, being able to escape the eyes of my boss. It was rare when I could do that. Normally I always timed myself before heading home so Harry wouldn't be suspicious. But today I didn't care. I walked down the street and found a gun shop. I walked in, seeing the owner and I smiled quickly.

"Hi, there." he says to me. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to buy a pistol." I state. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Alright." he says opening up the glass counter from his side. He pulled out a small silver pistol and lay it on the counter. He gave me suspicious look. "May I ask what you're using this for?"

"Oh, I just moved into a flat of my own and I just need some reassurance so I can sleep at night." I lie to him.

"Alright. But first you'll have to get a license-" I cut him off and pulled out one of my own. I'd gotten one a few months back in case I needed it. And I did.

"Here it is." I say handing it over to him. He seemed to be scanning it, and making sure it was real. He nods, satisfied.

"Alright, the pistol will be fifty dollars." he tells me. I pulled out the wad of cash I'd been saving and handed it to him.

"This should be enough." I say. He counts the bills and nods, putting the pistol in a bag.

"How much are bullets?" I question almost forgetting. He turns and tosses a pack of them onto the counter.

"Twenty dollars." he tells me. I nod and hand him the last twenty in my wallet. He puts the bullets in the bag as well, and hands it over to me.

"Thanks." I flash him another smile.

"No problem. Have a nice day." I walked out of the shop and headed to Harry's house ready to face his wrath.

...

I entered the house and saw Harry pacing back and forth. He looked up at me and rage covered his face.

"Where the hell were you!" he shouts. I step back, and reach into the bag. Harry follows my hand movement and sees the bright and shiny pistol in my hand. "What the hell is that?" he asks his voice has lost his edge now.

"Harry, I'm not yours anymore." I tell him. "I'm not anyone's. And if I can't be that in this life, I'll be it in my next life." I say knowing I'd already loaded the bullets on the taxi ride home.

"Rachel, are you insane!" Harry asks me. "You're not really gonna do this! Are you?" he asks his tone of voice scared.

"Harry, you made me this way. And now you can live the rest of your life feeling guilty. But knowing you, that won't happen. You're a heartless man, who will probably only be pissed that I was a waste of money." I explain. It scared even me how calm my voice was.

"Rachel, don't!" Harry cries. I undid the safety lock, and put the pistol to my head. I shut my eyes tightly, ready to end this nightmare that was my life. I felt someone tackle me to the ground, the pistol falling from my hands.

I hit the ground, Harry on top of me. I looked at him in disbelief. I felt the tears burn my eyes and shoved Harry off of me.

"Why Harry!" I yell. "Why can't you just let me kill myself!" I was crying, falling on my knees.

"Rachel, I-" I shot him a dirty look.

"Leave me the hell alone Harry! At least do me that favor!" Harry sighs and picks the pistol up off the floor, and walks away from me. I kept crying, unable to stop. Unable to release myself from this misery. All because of Harry fucking Styles.