Abandoned (A Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

My teeth clench as my body shudders at the steam of his raspy voice.

My brother introduces the two boys as Sammi, a shorter yet buff man with squinty eyes, and Mickey, a light shade of black with large brown orbs that seem pleasantly welcoming as opposed to Harry's greeting scowl. I introduce myself to the two of them and the boys begin discussing the agenda once again. The howl of voices growing to an agonizing sound.

Harry slaps his meaty hands together to grab everyone's attention. He's done this twice now to quiet the overwhelming buzz among the boys in the room. I stare blank-faced at the dimpled boy, with that reoccurring smirk starting to appear from within his lips, "I say we take Scar to the corner of fifth and 27th street."

I shutter at the mention of my nickname from his heavy deep accented voice. I look around for the reaction of the others' faces, not positive of what landmark awaits on that avenue.

"No," Brandon is the first to speak up. Harry's face perks up while his laugh begins to shake his whole body. A few of the other boys look doubtingly in response to Harry's idea but a majority seems amused with Harry's suggestion.

"I wanna go," I add in, hopeful that my brother would not disapprove of me  speaking up. I try to avoid eye contact to dodge his reaction but he just blinks rapidly. He's dumfounded. But all in all he shrugs his shoulder.

He speaks up, "If you really want to, but I don't want to go anywhere inside there."

"You know what that means?" the runt verbalizes again, "Harry you're going to be the one showing her around there," he adds a playful wink. Harry grunts quickly, repositioning himself in one of the seats.

I look from Brandon's face to Harry's, clearly ignoring Bane, "Are you scared B?" Harry mocks while only he laughs at his remark, "okay, fine, let's go Scar."

He nudges me out of the house once again with the whole pack following behind. I tentatively trudge my feet down the creaky front steps and onto the damp sidewalk. I fall back for a second and let Harry lead the way. I stroll alongside my brother at a speedy pace. The streets seem to have no vacancy therefore the pile of boys parade down their streets with an excessive amount of adrenaline.

"So is anyone going to tell me what is on the corner of fifth and 27th, or whatever?" I peer around at all of the hiking men.

"Do you know why no one comes to Portland?" the boy by the name of Riley interrogates. I don't. I don't know why the city is so deserted. There's this eerie feeling absorbing through my five senses but yet I can't put my finger on why that is. Anything is better than Cincinnati. I casually shake my head and keep my eyes on him, hoping that he'd continue.

"Do you know why everyone left, is the real question?" Daniel adds while a spunky Tommy pats him on the back, supporting his friend's cleverness, which I don't comprehend. Boys are weird. All theyever do is congratulate each other on things pertaining to jokes, sex, anddrugs.

 "No, I don't recall doing my research," I state. I spend moments to admire the pattern of the old houses, the way their porches were built, the gardening techniques which do not seem a priority around here, and little details such as the construction of benches, parks and lamp posts. Everything had dark pastel colorings to it. The benches are a pastel brown, the lamp posts grey, the playground either musky green or prison cell grey. There is no sun-shiney bright platter of colors splashed about. The most colorful house I saw was a very old tint of green. Everything so bland, so plain, and so boring. Even in the ghetto town I used to live in, color was at every reach of your fingertip. Most of the time color meant vandalism and street art but at least it was some form of expression.