The White Crayon (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 2

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS!!! I can't believe my baby boy is turning 24!! I'm updating today in honor of his birthday. I love you, Louis and I hope you have a wonderful day with your family.

(Harry's POV)

I start to walk to the front doors and look down. I can feel their eyes on me, judging me from afar. I kick a pebble with my boot and try to keep the voices from my head, but I'm failing miserably.

They hate you. They may not know you, but they don't have to. They see how weak you are. They see how fat you are. Who wants to mess with an outcast loser? No one. That's who.

When I hear someone nearby say "freak", I quicken up my pace to the school. When I'm a few feet away from the door, I hear the voice I have been wanting to avoid the most. "Hey mute! Wait up! We haven't got to talk to you properly yet!"

The fear that surges through me makes me panic. I start to run to the door, but I only open it a tad so I can slip through without leaving the door wide open for them. When I am halfway through the door, someone yanks me back but stops me in place, in between the doorway. It confuses me for about a millisecond before I see a flash of a body out of the corner of my eye. In the next second, the person slams in the door with my body still in between. The door smashes everything from the right side of my jaw, all the way down my torso, and a lot of my left leg.

When the weight comes off the door, I feel the pain rushing to all the smashed parts and I involuntarily drop to my knees. When I catch my breath again, every single ounce of air that I just breathed in comes back out in a gut wrenching scream of pain. The only time I ever make noise is when I am in pain.

The same hand that stopped me earlier grabs me by my foot and starts dragging me back to the grass, my mouth getting dirt in it from having the front of my body running along the ground. My breathing starts getting faster and faster and I can tell that if I don't get away from them soon I am going to have a panic attack. I hear that if you focus on your surroundings or something that you enjoy/like/love to occupy your mind, it should help calm you. Sadly, if I focused on what was happening around me it would cause the attack to come faster and I honestly don't like anything enough for me to focus on it to the point that it can calm me.

I pathetically try to grip the ground to slow down the person dragging me but it is no use. When we get far enough into the grass to the point that the concrete is far away and no teachers can see us from the front doors, the person drops my leg. As soon as he does that, I turn onto my back and sit up to try and scoot away from them as fast as possible. That probably wasn't the best decision. The boy bends down, slips his hand under my beanie and grabs a handful of my hair, quickly pulling my head up to his shoulder and slamming it harshly back on the ground again. my vision goes black for a second and I roll onto my side.

I feel the first kick to my back in a matter of seconds. It's painful and when I flinch away my body rams into another kick to my stomach. The kicks come faster and faster. Harder and harder. At this point, I'm not even worried about the panic attack. That is long gone. Then, I was breathing quickly. Now, I'm not breathing at all.

"Alright guys. That's enough." I don't have to open my eyes to know that Carter is speaking. He is the leader of the group and gets his fair share of torturing me but really leaves the rest of it to his 'boys' as he calls them. The kicks stop and I just lay there, not wanting to move until they leave.

"Shit man. That felt so fucking good! I have been waiting to do that all Summer!" Damon, one of his closer followers speaks up, followed by a chorus of different approving hums or short responses.