Different.//Harry Styles

Chapter One [1]

Chapter One [1]

Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.

 Well, this was one of those times. I wipe away the salty tears, leaving behind pink puffy stained cheeks, and swollen red eyes.

 I flutter my eyes a couple times before recovering and adjusting to the bright sunlight shining in through my window. Groaning, I drag myself out of my comfy bed, grabbing my phone off of my nightstand and glancing at the screen to check the time. 7:32AM. Great, I haven't even begun the new day and I was already wiping tears off my face.

 I padded my way over to my dresser, slipping on a couple bracelets over my left wrist to hide memories. Everyone has scars that they don't want to talk about, mine are just on my body as well as in my head.

 I do keep telling myself that one day I'll wake up and everything will be different, even though I know that won't happen.

 Shaking my head at my thoughts, I navigated through the dark hallway down the staircase into the living room, pausing behind the wall before turning to eavesdrop on the conversation occurring on the other side of the thin wall.

 "Stop fucking around, and just sink it into my arm already," I hear a voice that is all too familiar whisper; my mother. I hear another noise, with the sound of someone franticly shuffling around. "Okay, okay" A deep voice repeats, my father.

 I know exactly what they are doing and decide it would be best if I could I just-

 "Just what the hell do you think you are doing downstairs so early for?" My mother’s voice booms angrily behind me, interrupting my thoughts. I slowly turn around to face the two devils that I sadly call my parents.

 "I-I uh," I stumbled to find the correct words, trying carefully not to tick them both off, knowing the high toxic state that they are both in.

 Slap!

 Before I know, I've fallen to my knees, it felt like a flaming wildfire as my right hand caressing my reddened cheek, wincing in pain as I feel a jerk kick in my stomach, knocking me breathless. Salty tears brimmed around my eyes, making my vision blur as the powerful kicks keep forcing their way onto my stomach, hitching my breathing every time as they do so, imprinting a bruise as each kick came and went.

 I jolted all around the cold hardwood floor almost like a fish out of water gasping for its last breath, as both my parents finished, and cackled like devils at my torturing pain. I closed my eyes and clutched my stomach to catch some, if not any breath.

 I could hear both of them turning on their heels and I didn't dare open my eyes until the faint sound of footsteps could be heard no more. I stayed on the cold hardwood floor, weeping in pain between sobs.

 Collecting myself together, I began to wonder why I even stay in this hell house of abuse and neglect, for the past 17 years.

 I clutched my stomach as the pain jolted inside me widens every time I made a step further up the stairs. Finally reaching the top, I let out a brief sigh of relief and walked into my bedroom. I don't have a bedroom door; my parents took it away when I was twelve. Apparently "privacy" is against their rules. They even check my phone every night, but I don't have anything to hide. I don't talk to anyone outside of school, ever.

 I padded my way towards my oak dresser, pulling open drawers to find my choice of attire to suit me for the day. My parents might be the cruelest people on earth; but they still give me money so I can purchase my own items and needs.

 I picked out black tank top to go with an aqua Hollister long-sleeved shirt that had the logo in black. Then, I dragged out a pair of light-washed Hollister supper skinny jeans, along with deep blue laced panties and a matching deep blue laced bra, with a cute black bow setting in the center.