My Everlasting Youth

Chapter 1

Harry's P.O.V

" Move Anne! He has to learn!"

" BUT HES ONLY A CHILD!, MUST YOU BE SO HARD ON HIM"

"Anne I'm gonna to tell you to move one time...."

" NO! I REFUSE TO LET YOU TOUCH MY CH-"

The sickening sound of a slap filled the kitchen once again. I pitied my mother....always taking the consequences of my decisions that always seem to make him angry.

'Maybe if I wasn't such a fuck up we'd have a chance at happiness'

I crawled out of my hiding spot and ran to my mother with tears in my eyes after I was sure he was gone.

"Mum I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for him to-"

My apology was interrupted by my mother's exhausted sigh. I looked down at the floor and waited for her to say something..anything and the more the time passed the more the guilt ate away at my insides.

Finally she broke the silence and whispered, " It's alright Harry.....I know you don't mean any harm.."
She was absolutely right, I have never been the type of guy to inflict or wish any kind of suffering on anyone no matter how bad they've wronged me because I don't have the strength to hate anyone.

I embraced her strongly in an attempt to grab her attention but she wouldn't look at me at all. She would only stare at the wall brokenly as if she were to look anywhere else the wall holding her emotions together would shatter into millions of pieces

" I just wish you would give me time to recover and be what he asks of you.."

With that, she ripped out of my embrace and walked upstairs.

I would be lying if I said her words didn't sting. They act as if I'm a terrible son or if I had brought the Calvary to our front porch. I get straight A's, I'm lovely to both them and everyone I run into, and my room is always kept tidy, but as soon as I have an opinion that he doesn't agree with all hell breaks loose..

I bite my lip to stop my tears from making an appearance once again and run upstairs for my room.
I slam the door, lock it, then fall out on my bed to stare up at the ceiling.

While contemplating my life, the words of my mother constantly ran through my head and broke my train of thought. To be what he asks of me.....that's what she asks of me but I can seem to find any reason to change myself and my believes for someone who only tolerates my mother and I because we are financially stable.

I don't like him.... he's a violent and self centred man who I am forced to call my step dad because my mother is scared to tell him otherwise. I know he's cheating on her... I can feel it. Almost every weekend he comes home drunk off of his ass, reeking of cheap perfume and alcohol. But this wasn't about him, it was about me.

I stared out my window at the busy streets of London. There was love, laughter, and a sense of calamity that I could only wish for.
'Maybe I'm the problem'
The thought seemed accurate  based on the past problems my family had were because of me.

"Maybe it would be better if I just ran away...'