Bruised and Scarred (Harry Styles/punk/au)

One

I pulled down my sleeves as I finished dressing for the day. My senior year at school was beginning, and I still couldn't wear short sleeves. Why would I want to be the ridicule for the whole school. I covered my scars with the navy laced top that had become a favorite of mine. Slowly, sauntering into my add-on bathroom to take my medications. 

"Take one daily." My small airy voice said. 

I filled a glass with water as I tossed the pill to the back of my throat. I had been taking these for three years now, this would be my fourth. I started taking them soon after ninth grade started. I turned into walking depression after the incident. 

"Laikyn, get your ass down here and go to school already! I have customers waiting for me, time is money!" A grimy voice called from downstairs. My mother. 

She prostituted herself for money, and drugs. She had been doing this for a while, so long it became a normal thing to me. No longer flinching at her filthy language, and grungy appearance. Fried blonde hair poked off of her head in peculiar angles as she stared into the hall mirror applying an unnecessary amount of eyeliner, and mascara to her webbed lashes. 

Pulling jeans on swifly, and tieing my converse laces, I threw my hair into a messy pony tail (which became a default look for me) and began descending the stairs. I passed by Monica without a glance at her while she sneered and stuck her foot back, tripping me. 

"Oops. Sorry about that sweetie." Voice dripping with sarcasm, and faux concern. 

Flashing a small, and very fake smile as if to signal "It's okay" I hurriedly made it out my front door, and to my baby. Working since being a freshman at a local diner called "Mullinger's Finest" had it's benefits, and one of them was making enough money to buy my dream car, by the summer before Senior year. 

She was ice blue, with a sort of matte finish, and a small bit of rust near her tires and headlights. She was amazing, I nicknamed her Blu. She was a Volkwagen Thing, pretty much my favorite car in existence. I loved everything about her, right down to her sticking gear-shift. I learned to drive stick in my Junior year from one of moms regulars. He was pretty nice I guess. He was a shitty person for how he treated his family, he was married with two children, and a baby on the way. I atleast got something, and didn't have to do any favors like my mother did constantly. 

I unlocked her swifly, and jumped inside. Checking the time on the crappy phone I owned, it was 7:47. Shit. Shit. Shit. I was going to be late on the first day of senior year. Fuck. Fuck my life. Why me god? Why the fuck did I have a shitty life?

"Get your shit together Laikyn. This is no time for self-pity. Don't you dare throw yourself a pity party, there are people who are worse off." Mumbling to myself as I easily backed down our driveway, and onto the main road to make it to school. Hopefully not too late. 

"Of course." I said as I hit my steering wheel. "Fuck, sorry baby. Momma didn't mean it." I had hit every red light on my voyage. Parking eagerly, I made my way to the main office. 

I opened the familiar double doors that were qualified as the entrance to Forest High School. I made my way down the familiar hallways and soon came to a stop in front of the main office. I waited patiently to retrieve my schedule. 

"Excuse me?" Soft syllables uttered from my slightly parted lips. 

"Oh, dear." An elderly woman said as she approached. "I'm terribly sorry, love. I could hardly hear you, and I was in the back room making copies. What can I help you with?" Grandmotherly I thought to myself. 

"Oh, no troubles. I was just wondering if I could get my schedule, and sign in? I'm late unfortunately." I airily breathed. "I hit all the red lights on my way over." I sofly explained.

Nodding in understandment, "Sure deary, I just need your name?" 

"Oh, of course. Laikyn Night" I responded, slightly eager to see my classes. 

"Here you are, have a lovely day!" She chirped. 

"You as well." I responded, not sure if she heard me.

I guess you could say I was quiet, or shy. Dr. Stevenson called it anxiety, social to be more specific. She was my psychologist. I had been seeing her since the incident. 

Glancing over my schedule, I was happy with my class list. 

1. Art

2. English

3. Psychology

4. Writing

5. Library Aide

6. Free period

I had a pretty easy schedule because I had completed virtually everything else. I went to summer school every summer, and now my classes were a piece of cake. I could take basically all electives. 

Checking all the room numbers, and glancing back to my first period, I made my way to room 115 which happened to be quite close to my locker, 217. I walked fast, and eagerly. Art was one of my favorites. Pretty much all of my classes are lovely. I enjoy doing certain things to express myself, and not be as depressed. Dr. Stevenson says it an amazing idea. I quite think so too. Even if most of my pieces aren't all too good by my standards, or are mostly depressing. It helps me not have the urge to tear into my flesh. 

Trying to enter seamlessy, and go unnoticed didn't work. Just as I began opening the door, a loud creak was heard signaling my tardiness, and entry all at once. A blush crept to my cheeks reddening them instantly. I stared down, while everyone else stared at me.

"I-I'm L-Laikyn Night. I'm l-late." Stuttering profusely I handed him my pass. 

"Wonderful to meet you Laikyn!" Welcome to art, I'll be your teacher Mr. Wes, but all of my students just call me Wes." Smiling he spoke to me. A small smile crept upon my lips like a thief stealing my incessant frown away. I already knew I would love this class, especially now with such an amazing teacher.

"T-thank y-you, you t-to. Oka-ay, W-Wes." I managed to choke out. 

"Lovely, take a seat anywhere you'd like." 

I just nodded, and made my way quickly to the back of the class. Beginning to trip, I closed my eyes, and waited for the impact. I waited for the cement flooring to come, and smack my in my face. I was used to it. I had been tripped countless times. The impact never came. Slowly my eyes inched open. I was wrapped in someones arms. Harry. Oh, fucking lord. Harry Styles just caught me mid-fall. Shit. 

"Watch out." He said in a condescending voice as he placed me back onto my feet. 

"S-s-sorry." I told him while staring at my shoes. 

I sat in the only empty seat. The one right next to him. Easels were placed in front of every desk, each with a clean canvas in front of them. I couldn't help but to glance at Harry, and drink in his features. I saw him a few times since my freshman year here. He was a bad boy, and slept with loads of girls. He was covered in tattoos. He had plenty of peircings as well. He also had hypnotising green orbs, and magnetizing smile. His smile lit up rooms.