Two Worlds Collide {Zarry Stylik}

Chapter Twenty Six

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The last chapter if you didn't read it was a private chapter because of the smut. If you want to you just have to Fan/Follow me and click it in the Table Of Contents. This is going to be the first and only chapter in Harry's POV.  You'll see a lot deeper into his mind and his feelings. It might be a bit sad, I'm not sure. Thank you guys for all the love, thank you so much!

Pic on the side ---> TOO CUTE!

xoxo
Vicky;)

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In my life, from as far as I can remember, pain has been all there was. Though on first sight I would look to be fine, but in truth I never really knew of true happiness and inner peace. It was always pain and trauma, from what my father did. He was a demon, especially when he hurt us. He made sure there was no true happiness in my life.I spent so many years loathing him and resenting him, especially because I didn't know why he did it. Beating us, the alcohol... the drugs. It didn't make sense to me, how my father could be such a ... monster.

Running away was surely something that haunted my mind everyday.I even planned it, I would have just left and go stay with my sister until I could live life on my own. I would get a new start at a better life, but I could never leave, I could never leave Mum. She would never be able to survive him alone and she would never tell anyone the man she loved assaulted her near to death countless times. Not to mention how the news would eat that up, major tech company CEO is abusive. She wouldn't do that to him. So I stayed and took all the sick pain this world of mine had to offer but how was I to know half of the world's pain.

I knew not even the slightest fraction, I only knew mine for I was and am still too young and because of that I just just dubbed my pain the worst, isn't that how it is. I couldn't have imagined though, how cruel the world can be to others sometimes until I saw, until I saw how it was here.

It was the city for our Sociology project. It was obviously going to be one of poverty and bad circumstances but it's one thing to read about poverty and something totally different to see it and experience it and feel the someone else around you's pain. 

The centre we were staying at was all the way to the edge of the city but most of the other students liked it that way because of how the environment was. There was a bus that would drop us off to a point every morning and from there we would break up into groups to go to the places we had to volunteer at. For most of the students, the volunteering was annoying but I couldn't- I couldn't help but feel a hollowing pain when I look at this neighbourhood. the source of my empathy probably being how familiar I am with pain myself, making it easy to feel a love for this place. I would walk through the graffiti tainted streets and see vagrants wandering and begging. I always gave though I knew it wasn't always for food they would ask. The small unkempt houses with families way to large for that space made my feeling to help them even stronger. And later on in the day when the boys around my age or even younger would go out and hang around, probably for nothing too positive, it just reminded of the story Zayn told me, of the neighbourhood he grew up in and how it was so much like this place. I would never want something like what happened to Zayn, happening to someone else.

I've never been in any circumstances close to this so in that way I can say I may be born lucky but  I would never really call myself as strong as these people are. I want to bring them some hope with the smallest things I can do and maybe then I can open my eyes a bit more to joy, something that has been foreign to me for a while.

But now, something's different, out of all the darkness in my life, I've finally found a lantern to save me and lead me out of the perpetual melancholy that encased my tortured soul. That lantern made me feel again and breathed life back into the empty vessel my father made me. That lantern was Zayn Malik.