X / h.s

Chapter 7

HARRY POV;

I stood there, looking inside. I couldn't bring my legs to push me forward. But I knew I couldn't just keep forcing this girl to let me be close. If I didn't do this now, I could lose it forever.

My feet slowly dragged me in. As I took in the sight of everything, the room seemed to spin.
The walls, still painted an ugly olive green, and the lightening so dim inside.
Nothing decorated the walls, like a home should. Because before this wasn't a home at all.
The room seemed to turn faster, and my mind fought to keep up.
Screams echoed in my head. The sound of woman begging, begging them to stop. Promising they would be good from now on. All ringing in my head.
My chest ached, and it seemed like someone knocked the air out of me, although now I couldn't remember much of what happened before.
My knees buckled underneath me, and I crashed onto the floor.
Warm hands met my skin, pushing my hair out of my face.
"Harry! Harry? Are you okay?!" She sounded distorted. Underwater.

I opened my mouth to speak. To tell her I needed to see all of it. But instead, my body betrayed me. Gagging at the disgusting realization of everything that happened between these walls.

Before I knew it, I was up again. Going upstairs in something that felt like a trance.
I felt outside of my body. Empty.

My legs dragged me forward and my eyes took sight of every detail. The wooden panels and doors were starting to rot, little by little. No sun came inside the house, apparently. I pushed the first door I could find.

Upon entering, the view changed. The room was happier. Painted yellow, even. I could tell it was hers. Pictures adorned the walls, along with fairy lights that twinkled against the window frame.
I walked towards them, pushing the curtains.
The glass was kept in place, to where no one could do it harm by metal bars outside.

I turned to her.

"They were there when we got here. All on the second floor, and on the kitchen door and windows."

I didn't respond. There just weren't any words. I simply walked past her and into the hall.
The upstairs was more lively than downstairs. They had gone through the effort of making it seem less dead in here.

I'd made it to the kitchen now. Old, just like everything else. The appliances seemed to be from the 50s, maybe. A small diner table sat in the middle, it's painting chipping away.

My eyes took in sight of everything. I had begun to feel embarrassed. Barging in with no explanation, and coming up empty. Then my eyes landed on a wooden door, right under the stairs. A basement.
I hurried over to it, pulling it open.
Charlotte ran behind me. "Harry, hey! What are you-jesus. What are you doing?!" She shrieked.
We both ran down the wooden stairs.
My blood was pumping, there was something here I knew it.
But all I could see was black.
My fingers traced along the walls, eventually finding a switch.

The lights flickered, and a gasp escaped me.

Nothing.

Thats what I found. Absolute jack shit. The rotting, horrid smelling, basement was empty. Except for a few tool boxes and old lawn chairs.

There was fucking nothing here.
I stood there. Retracting everything in my head, step by step.

I didn't know where. I didn't know how. But I knew it. There had to be something left I just wasn't looking hard enough. Something to tie my father to this house.