Broken Beyond Repair

Chapter Six

~:Chapter Six:~

Mirrors brake, and windows too,

Not only that, but people do.

~:HARRYS POV:~

"I broke"

The words made me feel dizzy. I had to grip the countertop, otherwise I felt like I'd fall over.

The sad smile on Joyce's face didn't make me feel any better, in fact, it made me feel worse.

"What do you mean Joy?"

Joyce smiled, a painful smile.

"You wouldn't understand." Joyce's eyes stayed focused on the floor.

But what Joyce didn't know was that I knew exactly what she meant. I found myself brake once or twice before. I blamed the media, the hate. But I learned to overcome the hate because of the fans. And even though she didn't know it, Joyce was helping me too.

~:JOYCE'S POV:~

"I know more than you think," Harry supported, holding my bloody hand gently.

This time, I looked up into Harrys gorgeous eyes. My eyes wide, and glossy.

"Wha-" I spluttered, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Shh. Lets get you cleaned up," Harry comforted, picking up the tweezers.

"This is going to hurt, think of something nice, something that makes you happy."

I closed my eyes tightly shut, gripping Harrys bicep with my good hand. The only thing that came to mind was Harry, nothing else. He blocked out my dark thoughts, and brought light to my mind.

One by one, Harry plucked out the shards of glass out of my hand. As each piece was pulled out of my skin, I gripped Harry harder.

I felt some liquid being rubbed on my wounds, stinging my cuts. I bit my lip as Harry cleaned my harm. Finally, he wrapped a bandage around my hand tightly, making me wince.

My thigh was burning although my hand was aided. I remembered the shard of glass digging into my flesh leaving a deep mark, but luckily the glass wasn't in my skin, or else we'd have a bigger problem.

Harry noticed the slice and examined it more closely, a deep cut was prominent. Blood seeping through the slash in my pants, onto the counter top.

After all my wounds were aided, Harry stood up. My height dwarfed his. My head was just below his chin. Harry washed his bloody hands and faced me.

"Thank you," I whispered softly, holding my bandaged hand.

"No problem." Harry smiled, and entered my room.

Harry exited out of the room, telling me to stay put. He came back with a broom and dustpan. Then he sweeped up the damaged mirror bits putting them into the bathroom garbage bin.

Harry smiled down at me, brushing his hands together.

"All done."

I sighed to myself. "Harry, what did you mean by, 'I know more than you think'?" I had to ask, the curiosity was eating me alive.

Harry's smile faded, "you're not the only one who's felt sadness and pain, Joyce."

"I- who said I was sad?" I felt as if Harry were looking right through my rock solid walls, and I hated that feeling.

"I didn't say you were, but everyone has felt it, haven't they?" Harry said, "and I think you're holding onto that sadness, because its all you've ever known."