I Just Want To Feel Alive † Zarry Stylik

two

Harry frowns. "What the fuck do you mean, an intervention? I'm fine. Happy! Ecstatic, even."

Even Harry knows that's a lie. He's depressed and hopelessly dissatisfied with his life. Anne sighs, and pats Harry's shoulder gently. "Harry, sweetie, you haven't left your flat in months. And how many cats do you have now? Six? Ten?"

Harry shrugs her off, and takes a step back into his dimly lit living room. "Oh, please. I've got three cats. And besides, I don't mind staying in. I actually feel much better when I'm not surrounded by germs and buzzing flies and cockroaches and dust mites and-"

Nick, Harry's good friend clears his throat. "Harry, we know. But it's becoming less than sustainable to stay in your flat all the time! It's weird. Borderline obsessive. Do you understand why we're-"

Harry turns his back on the small crowd, and grits his teeth in frustration. "Yes, I understand. But it's my fucking life! You have no business meddling in it!"

Gemma, Harry's sister, puts a hand on his shoulder, and this time he doesn't brush her off. "Haz, we're doing this because we love you. We're worried about you. Do you understand that your habits are concerning us? We just want you to be safe, and happy."

"Yes, whatever, but why don't you understand that being out there with all that vermin and dirt makes me feel physically unsafe?! I hate it out there! I have no control." Harry wants to scream. They have no right to force him to do anything. He's about to tell them to leave, when an idea pops in his head. "I'll go out, for a few hours, on one condition. All of you interventionists don't come with me. Guard my building to make sure I don't just sneak back, for all I care, but don't come with me."

Gem smiles, and turns to Anne, who looks less than satisfied. "What are you going to do, Harry? Buy more hand sanitiser?"

Harry raises an eyebrow, and scowls at Anne. "No, mum, I'm going to get a tattoo."