Sleepless Nights (h.s)

one

Hi everyone:

This book may contain certain things & and is recommended for mature audiences. If you feel uncomfortable with these themes than I would advise you not to read it. It does say mature content for a reason -- this will be the only warning xx

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HARRY

Mint. The name of a small, cosy coffee shop located on the corner of Oxford Street. I tend to visit the cafe every morning, and order my daily large peppermint tea. I don't know what it was; but I was obsessed with anything even remotely related to mint. Mint chocolate, mint tea, mint cologne, the list is endless.

I push open the single glass door to the cafe, and the warmth immediately engulfs me. The smell of coffee beans and hot croissants fill my nostrils as I make my way towards the front counter. Rose, the sweet old lady  whom i've known since I moved her and who owns the shop - notices my presence and smiles warmly up at me before gasping.

"My boy! Oh how I have missed you but I must ask... what on earth is on your arms?" She exclaims, referring to my newly imprinted tattoos. I chuckle at her slightly and lean across the counter to place a small kiss on her cheek. She blushes.

"They're only tattoos love."

"But why would you want those meaningless monstrosities on your arm?"

"Ah, but you see dearest Rose, they all have a meaning." She nods her head in what seemed to be her understanding, and the subject is quickly forgotten. She hands me my usual order; peppermint tea and a buttered croissant. I hand her the right amount of change before I make my way towards the exit of the small shop that feels a little too much like a second home.

Before I can exit the shop completely, a petite figure bumps into me aruptly, causing my fresh tea to run all down my favourite t-shirt. "Oh my! I'm so sorry. Please, let me buy you a new one" The voice says and I look up to see a very flustered girl. The first thing I notice is her eyes and how they seemed to be a mixture of a shade of blue and grey, and long strawberry blonde hair that I can only simply infer would be a pain to brush in the mornings. The word ranga dings in my mind when I look at her and I almost want to smile.

"Doesn't matter." I mutter, tipping the now empty cup in the bin, and heading towards my shitty, over priced sports car. I place the keys in the ignition, starting up the car, and head towards the place I dread the most. My apartment.

I live by myself. My parents divorced when I was 4, which forced my dad to move out of home. Mum and I were doing okay for the first few months, until she saw dad in the shop with another woman and that was when she lost it. She just changed completely after that day.

She became an alcoholic and would sell herself to men so that we could afford to live. It was scary. I mean, no 5 year old boy wants to see close to 10 different creepy men in their house nearly everyday. But mum got a boyfriend not long after that, and I really thought things would have gotten better. But if anything, they were worse than I could have imagined. The months that followed after was when I first understood the true meaning of pain.

He was an alcoholic and a big drug dealer. But mum being mum, had quickly fallen in 'love' with him, so she did what he asked her to. He didn't love her though, and I knew that the moment I saw him hit her for the first time.

He would come home drunk late at night, after a long day at the pub and would beat my mum senseless and repeatedly until she would give in to him and whatever he dared to need.

It wasn't until I was 6 that I knew just how bad things were. I had come home from a friends house one night and gone straight to bed. I had heard a front door slam shut and knew on instinct that he was home. I shut my eyes tightly and started counting down from 60. By the time I got to one, I could hear my mum screaming and I thought that they were just having another argument as this was the occurrence of every other night. But it wasn't until mum came bursting into my room, picking me up abruptly, and sweeping me into her room, locking the door that I knew this was different. She laid me on her bed and pulled me close to her.

I could tell she had been crying as her body was shaking and her face was wet and cold. I noticed blood on her hands that were wrapped tightly around my body, and I wandered what had happened. I could her him stomping up the stairs before he reached the bedroom door, he started banging loudly on the wall and mum began sobbing loudly.

"It's okay baby, it's going to be okay. Go to sleep" She had whispered to me, pressing a kiss to my ear. A tear rolled down my cheek and landed on her bloody hand. I knew we were going to die. He would break the door down and kill us.

I shut my eyes, blocking out the sounds of his yells and the wall breaking a little more every time he hit it, and the sound of mums cries.

I woke up the next morning, to mum's arms still around me, and I sighed and smiled, as she was right, everything was okay. I detached myself from her, and my smile immediately dropped as I noticed that the bedroom door was gone. I looked down and noticed mum was covered in even more blood than the night before. There was a hole in her side, and her eyes were shut and I knew in that moment that she wasn't waking up.

I looked around the room and saw him sitting in the corner of the bedroom, just staring at her. I screamed at him to do something, but all he did was laugh. It wasn't until I saw the blood on his hands, and gun that was next to him - that I realised he was responsible for her death.

I ran out of bed and down to the kitchen and called 911 as quickly as my 6 year old fingers could. I told them everything on the phone, and stayed out the front of the house until they came. Four police cars and an ambulance had pulled up in our driveway shortly after. I pointed them in the direction of the bedroom at the top of the stairs, and they soon came back with my mum in a black bag, and him in hand cuffs.

My real dad soon found out about my mums death, and took me in. I was angry at him though. Angry at him for leaving me with my mum. Angry at him for leaving my mum and angry at him for not caring. If they didn't divorce, then I would have lived a happy, normal childhood and mum would have still been alive.

It also turned out that my dad had become some sort of rich guy once he left my mum. It was typical though. He had the typical wife, typical mansion, typical cars and typical life. A typical life that I didn't want to be apart of.

He tried everything to get me to like him, but nothing worked. Not even the brand new sports car I got for my 18th birthday, or the polished, fancy apartment he got me for my 21st. Not once did I talk to him. I lived with him for 15 years and not once did I utter more than 100 words. Nor did I want to.

I'm now 22 and living life as best as I can. I have girls throwing themselves at me and to be frank, I'm not complaining. I don't do relationships. Nor do I do that bullshit that goes by the name of love. Love is for assholes. Stupid mother fucked up pussy ass whipped assholes, and I wasn't going to be one of them.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sight of the traditional, white and brown brick flat in front of me that looked like it had no life. I make my way up the steps without falling over and onto the third floor. Also known as my apartment level. I push the key into the lock, turning it slightly to open the door.

I step inside and I'm immediately greeted by cold air. Freezing cold air. Which could only mean one thing; the heater is broken again.

"Fuck!" I grunt.

I make a mental note to call the maintenance guy later, to complain and get it fixed, but the minute I see the door to my bedroom, my eyes become droopy and the cold is shortly forgotten. I head into the also cold room, kicking my boots off and pulling my clothes off, leaving me in my black boxers before climbing into bed. I reach over to my bedside table and grab the glass of water and sleeping tablets, sculling them both down. I feel my eyes grow heavy, and the last thing I notice is the pattern indented into my ceiling.

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Author's Note; soooo this story has been sitting here for nearly three years and i've FINALLY got the motivation to actually publish something... not that anyone would probably read this after all this time, but i thought i would give it a go again. this has been one of my favourite stories i've ever written and i'm so excited to edit everything and put my new ideas to life n see what happens & if you did read then thank u so much hehe