Alive | h.s

three

I'm so bad at this I am sorry x

I sit on the edge of my bed trying to process what I had just seen.
He seemed so..... used to it?
That sounds horrible to think about and I find myself once again, in tears.
What if they do this to me? Is whipping the only punishment? How often does this happen? Is it daily? Has everyone got this? My main question comes around. What did Harry do to deserve this? He doesn't seem like an awful person.
My new therapist told me I have group therapy today at noon and it's already eleven thirty. I don't really know where I'm going still but I'm guessing it's close. I walk to the nearest doctor and he directs me to the room it is being held in. There is around eight dark blue chairs all formed in a circle, most of them are filled up, surprisingly Harry is sitting down. He looks calm except he's wincing in pain every few minutes. I realize that I'm still standing in the doorway and someone shoves me from behind. I stumble forward and quickly turn to apologize. It's a tall blonde haired girl and her dye is fading she looks at me with a disgusted face on. I take a seat almost across from Harry. He gives me a confused look. The lady running the therapy tells us her name is Susan she says for everyone to go around the circle and tell everyone why we're here. The first girl is beside her and she says her name is Amy and she has a severe eating disorder, she looks so young, like fourteen years old, her frail cheekbones are very visible and her skin is pale, she's so thin. The next is another girl who's name is Ruby, her hair is pink like cotton candy and so are her lips, her piercing grey eyes meet mine and I look away quickly, she's very intimidating. She says she doesn't know why she's here but it's been a year or so. The next is a boy with golden hair, I am quite jealous, it's a beautiful color, he sits uncomfortably and plays with the hem of his sweatshirt until he introduces himself as Daniel, he says he was addicted to Xanax and doesn't regret anything. I wait and listen patiently until it's Harry's turn. The time goes around two more people pass and now it is Harry's turn, he says he is here due to his alcohol abuse, he looks at me the entire time. It is making me extremely uncomfortable. Time passes and unfortunately it is my turn. I hesitate to open my mouth, I can feel my face heat up and tears are forming.
"Her name is Elise and she doesn't talk very much, don't force her." Harry speaks up from across the room with his confidence shining through.
I send him a sad smile and hopefully it looks thankful.
"Well then, moving on." Susan says.
"I'm Tyler and I'm here because I like to hurt people." The dark haired boy says beside me. I'm sitting beside a homicidal maniac. I'm scared so I slide in my seat uncomfortably. He turns to me.
"Relax, hun I'm joking. I'm here because I'm crazy they tell me." He leans in and whispers to me.
Susan sends him a glare.
I do feel more relaxed when a huge weight is lifted from my shoulders, still scared though.
Soon group therapy is over and everyone is dismissed. I choose not to listen or acknowledge the girl who pushed me. I decide to just go back to my room, on my way a tall figure pushes me against a wall, my face centimeters away from his.
"Why did you apologize." Harry asks sternly.
"I-I didn't know, I was I-In her way." I croak.
"No you weren't, I saw her come straight from behind you and she pushed you without hesitation."
"Oh." I whisper.
"Are you alright? You were upset at therapy."
"I'm fine." I say shoving him off me.
"Oh."
"I saw you t-this morning, why were they h-h-hurting you?"
"How did you-? They didn't hurt me, it happens all the time."
"Really? Will I-?" I say in fear. Why am I talking to Harry so much, I don't even like opening my mouth.
"Oh no I don't think you will. You're too nice." He smirks.
I don't know what to say.
"Thanks for, uh yknow s-saving me from talking e-earlier." I say.
"No problem."
"D-do you think you could, show me around a bit?"
"Sure." He smiles.
He takes me to the library first, it's a small room with about five bookshelves, it looks so sad and depressing, in there a small, empty table I assume is made for young kids, and next to it is a much larger table, a boy my age sits at it with his head in a book, Pride and Prejudice. I nod and Harry continues on his way. As we walk our hands graze and I flinch but he links our fingers together. My stomach feels light and floaty, I must have eaten something that has gone bad. How odd.
"Styles!" A stern voice yells from behind, a guard. He drops my hand.
"Sorry." He mutters in my ear and he walks away. He only showed me one place? What kind of message is this boy giving me? It's not doing well.