Behind the Hidden Face

Chapter 7

Behind the Hidden Face

Chapter 7

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 "You can't just keep me a secret forever." Harry said, towering over me.

We sat outside my room on the balcony, looking over at the sunset.

"I know, Harry. I don't want to loose Anna as a friend, but I am if I keep lying to her like this."

He frowned, putting his left arm over my shoulder.

"I'm living in a lie, too." He said.

"What?"

"Nothing." He sighed.

His face flushed with sorrow. I felt bad.

"Is it me?" I asked.

"No." He said, not even peeking at me.

I wiggled my shoulders as he took his arm back to his side. We looked at each other, wandering back into the house. Harry shut the glass doors behind us, swiping the curtains shut too. He took me hand and lead me to my small mattress and sat on the end with me.

"Where's your real bed? Why do you sleep on a blow up bed?" He asked, his eyes watching mine.

"They didn't fit in the truck when we moved, so we are buying new ones soon." I said.

"Good," he chuckled, "I'd love a new bed to cuddle you with."

I blushed, turning my head away.

"So, you and Edward live alone?" 

He nodded, sighing.

"Skylar?" He asked, looking down at me.

"Harry." I smiled, looking up at him.

 "Where's your dad?" 

The smile swept off my face. The chills of painful memories filled my mind. Tears filled my eyes quick.

"Harry, lift my shirt up." I said, turning my back to him.

"W-What?" He stuttered.

I moved my hair from my back and over my right shoulder.

-* HARRY'S POV *-

 She shivered as my cold hands touched her lower back, grasping the bottom of her top and lifting it up. It revealed a large scar spread across her back.

"S-Skylar," I said, "what happened?"

She turned back around, pulling her shirt back down and sighing.

"It was when I was ten, Kendall's age, my little brother. It was when my dad finally let me sit in the passenger seat of the new car. It was the first time I visited America, we were on our way to Disneyland. My mum and Kendall were back at the house in California, that we were staying at. My dad said he promise to take me, and only me, to Disneyland with him. We had went down a few blocks, barely making it onto the freeway.. until. We crashed. I was unconscious for a day or two.  So, what I'm say is, my dad is dead. Has been for eight years."

Her face turning away. I could tell by her sniffles she couldn't hold back the tears. I leaned her back on the mattress, laying her on her back. I cuddled up next to her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I really am."

She didn't reply.

"What about yours?" She asked, turning to me.

"My dad?" I questioned.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"He's in a mental institution." I sighed.