Insanity {H.styles}

Chapter 19

~Harry's POV~

I took a deep breath in, the smell of her long hair filling my lungs. I can still taste her lips on mine, she looks so damn sexy in my clothes.

'No, Harry.' The voice in my head warned. I flinched at the sound of its voice. I could sit here for hours longer just staring at her, but I need to get to work. I got up carefully, trying not to wake her, and left the room.

I went into my dark bedroom, kicking away all the books and papers that are on the floor out of my way. I put on my black pair of worn out jeans and my work shirt. I went to the bathroom and began brushing my teeth as I looked into the mirror. My eyes were red and I had dark rings under my eyes. I needed sleep and I knew it, but I can never silence the screaming in my head long enough to get some rest.

I gurgled some water and spat it out into the sink and left the room. I ran my fingers through my messy, curly hair as I put on my backpack and left the house. I locked all the bolts on the front door and began making my way down the sidewalk. It was cold and windy as usual but it didn't bother me, it never does.

I closed my eyes as the thought of Kylie wondered into my mind. I want her so bad. I want to hear her scream my name-

'You're a sick human being, Harry.' the voice taunted, distracting me from my thoughts.

I shook my head trying to ignore it. "It was only a thought." I answered back out loud.

'The thoughts of a sinner.' It laughed.

"Leave me alone, please."

'You mean how you left me?'

I shook my head. "I didn't mean to." I said, my voice breaking. "It was not supposed to end up like this I swear. I thought that if, if I took her then-"

'-I would leave? Harry, no matter how much she may remind you of me, she isn't me.'

My hands began to sweat and my breathing became uneven. I feel like I am constantly playing tug-of-war with my sanity and I keep losing. However, lately whenever I am with Kylie the voice is ignorable and quieter. She is the only one who can make me feel normal again.

*Crack*

I looked down at my feet. I stepped on a broken glass bottle. I looked down at the bottom of my shoe and pulled out all of the bits of glass and threw them back on the pavement. All of them except for one, the largest one.

I examined it in my hand as I walked, taking off as much dirt as I could (not that it mattered).

I pressed the glass against an old wound on my upper arm. I flinched as I felt it slice through my inked skin. I took in a sharp breath as I felt blood ooze out. I love the feeling. It makes me feel somewhat sane knowing that I still bleed like 'normal' people do.

I walked through the doors of the old pub where I have been working the past few months. I sighed as Liam (The owner's son) gave me a wary look.

"Again?" He asked, looking at my bloody arm. "Seriously Edward, one would think you're the unluckiest man alive with the amount of times you've come in here like this."

I cringed at the name 'Edward'. I hate it. Ever since I was eleven years old a group of people from the government (Some children's welfare thing, I honestly don't remember) decided that after everything I was going through it would be best to change my first name, to help me start 'fresh' as they said it. Edward was my second name, so they scratched out Harry and made my name Edward Styles.

I went to the bathroom to clean up my arm and got to work.

I could feel a small smile forming on my lips as I looked up at a familiar face. "Hey, Louis." I said as I made my way around the bar. "How are you doing, mate?" He asked, glancing at the wound on my arm and I just shrugged.