Broken Pieces [H.S]

Chapter twentyfive

The loud knocking was beginning to give me a headache.

I began to shake, to scared to do anything.

Harry just sat there emotionless. Not moving one bit.

I knew better than to open the door, even if it wasn't him I did not want to take chances.

As we both sat there in silence the knocking seemed to die down, and I was able to take a sigh of relief.

Harry and I knew the things he could do to me.

They were all horrible things and I didn't want t remember them.

Yet I did.

I was scared he was going to kidnap me from my family, or worse, from Harry.

I was scared he was going to rape me, or try and kill me.

Or he would use me as his slave, or worse his sex slave.

Nothing would be worse than any of that.

The reason why he tortured us is because my family was his definition of perfect. He hated us for that. The fact that he was never able to find love, and make a family with amazing children. My dad said that when he was younger he used to be very violent. Sometimes throwing broken glass at people or breaking school property. He never had a good day. And he did all of this out of jealousy.

When I was about three, my family and I moved from Boston, Massachusetts to California, hoping he wouldn't find us.

But he did.

That's about the time when I met Harry. His family and mine soon became the best of friends.

We did everything together and my family thought that life was perfect, all because we had escaped him.

About the time Harry and I were in Junior high he came and found us.

Don't know how, but he did.

He constantly harassed us, breaking into our house. That's when I started staying at Harry's, and since me and Gemma were really close, I slept in her room.

Finally he started to leave us alone. He was taken to jail for three years. Harry and I were still the best of friends and we both knew it, but we became very distant.

I thought I was safe from him.

I guess not.

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