He has my heart. L.s.

1

WARNINGS:
-mature content
-lots of swearing
-sexual indication
-of self harming (triggering parts)
-alcohol abuse
-drug abuse
-physical and verbal abuse
-domestic abuse
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The higher I am the more free I am. Unfortunately I can only get as high as the the little roof outside my window. There is just something about being up so high that gets my adrenaline pumping. Plus it's the only place I can escape the fighting. It seems like it's timeless. Time doesn't matter, it isn't real. No one can hurt me. I'm safe.

All to soon I crawl back through my window. I mess with my curls trying to get them to corporate with me, they don't. I look at my black shirt and black skinnies that are ripped at the knee. With my brown tattered boots. Quickly adjusting my many bracelets on my wrists, I grab a jacket and head down the stairs. I hear the door slam and I sigh heading toward the kitchen.

My mum sits with her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake slightly. She's crying silently. I walk over to her and hug her from behind.

"It's ok, shh, mum don't cry. That jackass doesn't deserve you," I whisper.

"Harry, you're too kind," she looks back at me. I smile a dimpled smile at her. "Love you."

"Love you too, I'll see you later."

With a kiss to her cheek I walk out the door going to the bus stop. I hate my father. He doesn't deserve that title. He's simply a sperm donor that decided to stick around. He's abusive, a drunk, cheater. For my age it's a lot of stress. Soon I find my self walking on the bus toward the back. I sit by my self putting my ear buds in. I don't have a lot of friends. Well not as many as the famous Louis Tomlinson does. He's like some god at our school.

He's in grade 12. I acutally skipped a grade. How I managed to do that I don't even know. So I'm in grade 11 when I should be in 10. Speaking of the devil he gets on and goes all the way to the back high fiving some people. His friends smile widely at him. Now he's preppy, kinda, but don't let that full you. He's really just cocky. He's has all these
"connections" which aren't good. Yet, everyone seems to be head over heels for him.

Funny right? Whatever. I guess he has a cute arse.
He plops in a seat with the raven haired boy. I roll my eyes turning my music up. I close my eyes trying to get some more sleep.

***

All to soon I'm being woken by a certain Irish accent. I push him away and get up taking out my ear buds. I sling my back pack over my shoulder and follow the Irish lad off the bus. Niall is my best mate. Have been since last year when he moved here from Ireland. He's just really fun to hang out with. Also he's the only one who knows I'm Bi. Yep.
Bisexual. I like guys and girls. I am sexually attracted to both. I've kissed both.

Niall totally supports me. My mum doesn't even know. My dad deffinally doesn't know. Not that it matters he already calls me a fag. Sucks I know.

"What's up with the bruise?" Niall ask lightly touching the my cheek.

"He was drunk last night. I stopped him from hurting Mum," I say in a small voice.

"Oh God," Niall shakes his head. I made him promise he won't tell anybody. As far as anyone else notices. I'm just clumsy.

"I'm fine.

Soon we part to go to our lockers. A perky girl walks up to me. She's cute, I guess. Honestly I think I like guys better I mean they are just easier, I mean a guy knows what a guy wants and already knows how to do it well.

"Hello Harry!"She chirps.

"Hi?"

"Seriously you don't remember me?" She frowns.
Guilt washes over me.