Limits(Larry Stylinson student/teacher)

Chapter 3

Harry's p.o.v.

I walked home from school knowing exactly what was going to happen when I got there.

My 'dad' would hit me.

He started when I came out to him and my mum when I was fifteen which is the time mum left.- four years ago-. She was supportive, So i don't know why she left She just did. She doesn't try to come and get me and I don't think she knows what 'he' does.

I walk threw the doors and flinched when I heard the dreadful voice.

"Where have you been!" He screamed. He's obviously drunk.

"School" I whispered and suddenly felt a pain across my cheek. And I whimpered and cupped my cheek.

"Speak up boy!" He screamed.

"I was at school" I said a little louder.

He punched me in the stomach and I doubled over-without noticing- giving him accesses to knee me in the face.

The good thing about him being drunk is that his aim is off so he hit my cheek and not my nose.

"Stand up straight fag" he shouts. There it is. The word he calls me everyday.

He grabbed my wrist and drug me upstairs and in my room. He open the door and threw me into my room and slammed the door.

I looked at my wrist and there was a huge purple/black bruise there.

I laid on my bed and let my thought roll. Suddenly I found myself thinking about Mr.Tomlinson.

I like his first name. Louis. It suits him well. Actually I like a lot of thins about him.

I like those suspenders he wears and his crazy sex hair style.

Next thing I know my door bust open and my dad and his friends come in looking at me. I back up against the head board.

"Ok boys have fun" my 'dad' says.

I know exactly what he means. And silent tears stream down my face. He or his friends doesn't Sexually touch me.

They just take turns using me as their personal punching bag to let their anger out on.

But it's different because they use things. My 'dad' only uses his fist his friends use whatever they can find.

"Boys" 'dad' says 'make sure you don't hit him where people can see the bruises" he smirks.

Why can't I just die?

--

When his friends are done they leave me on the floor. I try to get up and when I do I get in my bathroom and pull out my razor. Yes I cut.

I slice as the tears fall down. After I'm done I clean up the blood and go to my room.
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Sorry this chapter is so short,just thought you would want to see a look at Harry's life.