dysfunction ➳ l.s ✔

1. I Wish

Guess who's back, back again. Weirdox is back, tell a friend.

Harry.

One day. One day. One day someone will love me like that. I thought silently to myself as I sat watching my favorite movie, The Titanic. I can't help but feel a little wishful whenever I watch it. I mean, who doesn't want a love story like Rose and Jack? Well, I mean without the dramatic death scene.

I sometimes think I'll never find such love, I haven't found it yet anyway. That's maybe because you're only thirteen years old, idiot. I tend to talk to myself quite often. It gets boring if I don't talk to myself. Who else am I supposed to talk to? I'm mute. That's the one disadvantage of being mute, it gets lonely. . . And quiet.

Just as the credits rolled in, I was about to replay it but Zayn turned the television off.

"This movie again?" he questioned. I gave him a slight nod before reviving the T.V.

"Oh no you don't. It's a school night, you should be in bed by now." I groaned at Zayn's strict curfew but it's not like I can argue. I slumped my shoulders as I slowly walked up the staircase leading to my bedroom.

Before I fell asleep, I mad sure to send a goodnight text to my best friend, Niall. It's something I do every night to let him know I'm not dead, simply going to sleep for a few short hours. He quickly replied with a goodnight text back. His way of telling me, he has time for his best mate - me.

*

I woke with that feeling you sometimes get, you know when you feel like you've slept for ten minutes when it's actually been several hours. I proceeded to stretching my arms letting out a yawn.

Once I was out of bed I quickly stumbled into my bathroom for a shower. Zayn must've still been asleep, he usually uses the bathroom to shave in the mornings. Although, when  I'm lucky I can beat him to the bathroom and take my shower as I was able to do today.

As I'm dressing, there's a knock at the door. There he is. I smiled deviously.

"Harry, you have twenty minutes to eat breakfast before we leave." Zayn called through the door. I knocked twice, letting him know I understood. Since I've been mute for over six years, my stepdad Zayn has caught on to my ways of communication. He's somewhat supportive of my muteness. He has his annoyed times but for the most part, he finds communicating with me quite easy. Ever since Mum died, he's tried his best to make me happy and I love him for that. 

I run down the stairs in my school uniform ready to fill my tummy with whatever I can find. I settle for an apple and a cup of milk. Some may think I'm strange, I think I'm normal. Maybe I'm not different, maybe they're the weird ones. I could be the only sane person on Earth and they'd never even know.

"You ready, pal?" Zayn entered the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He works at home being a writer and all so he doesn't really need to dress up in the mornings. I nod following him out the door.

"You're going to need to take the bus after school, is that alright?" he asked me. Knock. Knock.

"Still not talking, eh?" he chuckled. I shook my head.

"C'mon Hazza. I'm forgetting what you're voice sounds like." Zayn whined playfully. "Bet it's already deepened, you're thirteen now. Practically a man."

I laughed at that. I knew better than to believe him. He was always going to think of me as a child, his little Hazza.

"I have an interview with a publisher today. Miss Edwards, I think. She called me in to talk about my book. It might be published, you know." Zayn spoke, the occasional nod from my part.