**trigger warning**
Harry’s POV:
I decided to call Chloe with the good news. And, the not so good news. She picked up rather quickly.
"Hiii," I said to her.
"Hello. How are you doing?"
"I could be better. I have some good news though, and some not so good news." She hesitated on the other line.
"Tell me the good news first, and then maybe I’ll be so happy I won’t even notice the bad." Oh she’ll notice it, I said to myself in my head.
"Well, the good news is, I spoke to Brit. And, she’s gonna turn Liam in, so no more drug dealing for me." She screamed on the other line.
"Ahh! I’m so happy! I can call Niall over right now and break-"
"Not so fast," I said, surprised at how eager she was to break up with him. I thought a part of her would like him?
"What’s wrong? Harry, tell me the truth." She said.
"Um, well, after you left, Imogen texted me. She’s… she’s…"
"What?" Chloe asked, and I swear I could hear her heart vigorously beating even though I was on the other line.
"Pregnant."
Chloe’s POV:
My heart sank like the motherfucking titanic. How in the hell could she do this? Why would she get pregnant, in her first semester of college? I started crying, completely bursting out in to tears. I was completely oblivious to the fact that Harry was still on the other line.
"Babe, I promise, we can make this-"
"NO WE CAN’T SHE’S FUCKING PREGNANT HARRY. I’m sorry yelled, but you need to be there for this child, I would feel terrible if I was with you, knowing you were missing Imogen’s pregnancy." It was quiet for a moment.
"But I want to be with you…" He said.
"Harry, no. Let her win. Like she always fucking does. Let her ruin my life again, just like she did in high school. Let her take away any chance I have of happiness, again. Let her throw this in my face. Let her lower my self esteem once again. Let her make me do harm to myself, again. Because truth is, I’m still the little meek little girl that lets people walk over her like at Lakewood fucking High." And with that, I hung up. I really hope Harry didn’t think I was mad at him, because I wasn’t this whole situation sucked. I couldn’t feel anything, because I was so used to being hurt. I went in the bathroom, and pulled out my toiletry bag. I opened the secret compartment, and found them.
My razors.
I hadn’t cut for over a year, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. They gave me a sense of comfort. I pulled down my shorts, and sat on the toilet. I let the blade rip and open my skin four times. I could still see all of my old scars, and there were plenty. Imogen knew she hurt me, but I don’t think she knew it was this bad. I watched, as trickles of blood ran out. I just sat there for a while, my tears drying against my cheeks. I cleaned myself up, and I went to pack a bag. I couldn’t stay here tonight.
I texted my friend Nicole, who I started to talk to a few weeks ago. We were both in pre-med, and she seemed sweet. I asked her if I could stay the night, and she said yeah, because her friend would be at her boyfriend’s.
Before I left, I wrote a note to Imogen.
"Heard the news. Congrats, you win."
YOU ARE READING
