Mercy △ Harry Styles

△One△

"Get out of here, you piece of shit." The older man yells. The younger boy turns to leave quickly just as a beer bottle flies through the air and smashes into the wall next to his head. He doesn't even flinch.

In the younger boy's bedroom he sits on the small twin bed and rolls his ring around his finger, letting his mind wander. He looks up when his older brother knocks on his door.

"His drinking is getting bad again, isn't it?" Jerald questions. Harry nods and adverts his eyes to the floor. Jerald left home last year, ran off and got married to a woman named Cinthia. He only comes back to town to check on Harry. "Hey, what's going on with you? You aren't very chatty." No one knows what's going on inside of Harry's mind-not even his brother.

"I'm fine." He lies. He avoids looking at Jerald. He's been doing that a lot lately, adverting his eyes.

Jerald rubs the back of his neck. "Alright, well see ya later." He closes the door on the way out. Their father must be sleeping since it is quiet in the house. Harry gets out his schoolwork but is too tired to complete. By tired I mean completely done, he has given up, lost all hope. He pulls on his boots and sneaks out the back door to avoid conflict with his father.

He walks past storefronts, aimlessly traveling through the small English town. He walks past houses with well-kept lawns. He sees a child throwing a ball for a dog. They used to have a dog. His father would kick it, so eight year old Harry took the dog out for a walk far from home and let it run away. He didn't want it to suffer like he did anymore. When he returned home his father slapped him and told him for the first time that he was worthless.

Harry continued down the street away from the child and dog. He ended up at a graveyard. It, unlike the rest of the neighborhood, was unkept and grown over. He walked past countless tombstones, knowing exactly his destination. He stopped at a grave with a small angel statue beside it. His mother.