Daddy [h.s]

Thirty Nine

Pain was all that I felt in the moment. Excruciating agony. I couldn't open my eyes, I couldn't feel my hands, my back was killing me and there was a painful strain at the back of my neck. As I tried to lift my head up from the odd position it was in, a pathetic whimper escaped from my lips. My hands felt restricted, and my legs were numb. A pained groan fled from my mouth as I finally succeeded in picking my head up. A sharp intake of a breath and then my eyes were slowly opening. I was blinded momentarily by the harsh lights, as I blinked away the bleariness, everything slowly coming to view as the blurriness cleared away.

A gasp escaped from the back of my throat as I took a look around. My hands and legs were tied to the uncomfortable chair I was thrown into, angry red lines around the skin of my wrists which explained the discomfort I felt. I tried not to let my eyes well up because it just wasn't the time to sit around and cry. It wasn't going to help me. I willed myself to keep the panic down and think rationally and understand what in the world was actually happening.

I almost fell backwards when I realised that I wasn't the only person in the room. I didn't know whether I should've been relieved or even more confused and concerned when my eyes landed on Harry. There were a blue bruise on his jaw and cuts on his knuckles but he looked to be fine- physically that is, for the fact that he was unconscious.

The place we were in looked more like a cabin than anything. There was nothing except for a tiny little window at the top, a clock and a large painting on the wall towards my left, placed directly on the centre. My desperate attempts to locate something to help were demoralised when I came to find nothing but to call out for the other person in the room.

"Harry..." I croaked out, my throat sore and dry as if it'd been days I spent without talking or water. I didn't know how long we've been here for or why we were here. Harry didn't even budge in the slightest, as I called out to him once again, my patience wearing thin before I harshly snapped, "Harry, wake up!"

I let out a slight sigh of relief when he slowly started to move, a groan of grief coming from him, "What the fuck happened?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" I scoffed, licking my dry lips as my eyes darted to the clock before darting back towards him. I watched him as he started to come to his senses and realise where and how our conditions actually were, trying to release himself from the tight bounds of the ropes, "You're going to hurt yourself, it's not going anywhere"

He ignored me and kept going for a few seconds before stopping altogether, proving me right. It felt as if the more I had struggled, the tighter the ropes got, "How did this happen? This is bullshit..."

"You're telling me, you don't know how any of this happened?" I monotonously questioned.

Harry didn't even have time to answer me when footsteps loudly echoed through the hall. We both held our breaths when shortly after the door was thrown open. My head tilted to the side in confusion when I met those familiar eyes. I didn't know him. But I do remember seeing him at that grocery store. He was the guy that had been standing in the back of the aisle, when I thought he might have been spying on me. What I didn't know was that I may have been partially right.

"You. Who are you?" I infuriately spat out, his lip twisted upwards in a small smirk. I noticed the purple bruises littered all across his face, his split lip and the cut on his chin before my eyes trailed to Harry's knuckles, my suspicions affirmed by the look he sent me before averting his eyes to the ground.

The guy didn't say anything but quietly stood next to the door and I knew in the moment that he wasn't behind this. He probably took part in it but it wasn't his doing as he silently most likely waited for someone.