They Call Me Blades (Harry Styles)

Chapter 4

"The worst things in life come free to us. . ." -Ed Sheeran

What if she's right? What if my parents didn't want me? Maybe that's the reason they did what they did, to get away from me. Memories of police sirens and broken liquor bottles cloud my mind and I can still hear the screams and sounds of shattering glass. It was over thirteen years ago but I recall it just like it was yesterday.

You can't take her, she's my baby!

He never touched her, I promise!

Please, don't do this!

I can still smell the prominent odor of blood and booze, even after all of this time. The fact that she called me her baby, after all she did to me, after all she let him do to me.  What I don't understand is why all of this shit had to happen to me. I'm not one to blame the world for my problems, but I feel like I was put on this earth as a sick joke. I was not born into love like the other people at my school, I was a mistake from the very beginning. I was then thrown into a foster house where I met someone to lean on, someone to love me the way my birth parents never did. Then she was ripped away along with the last ounce of hope I had in me. I appreciate Kay and Tom so much for all they have done for me, but I feel like there is too much trauma to ever have a true parent-daughter relationship with them.

It's been a good half hour since the altercation with Mika and the crying has subsided for the moment. All I can do now is wait for the lunch bell to rings and try to get to my locker as quickly as possible, without being spotted by Satan's mistress. If it were up to me, I would just stay in here, but I have a set dietary plan that I must follow. Kay literally packs a specific meal for me everyday for lunch, plus certain things I have to eat every few hours. Apparently weighing 90 pounds is enough to send me to the hospital, and Kay has taken it upon herself to get me back to "healthy weight". After all the shit I put her through, I can at least try to get better. Plus, there's a chance if she thinks I'm getting worse, she won't let me take care of Lilly and Griff. I can't take that risk.

I walk down the hall now, desperate to just retrieve my stupid lunch box and get the hell back to my office. I turn a corner and see none other than Mika.

Of course.

Shit, she's literally standing right in front of my locker with a big group of people. Just what she likes: an audience. I'm actually surprised by one familiar green-eyed boy. I wouldn't think of Harry as someone to enjoy someone else being picked on, I guess I was wrong about that aspect of him. Just because he plays soccer doesn't mean he is like the others.

I contemplate just forgetting my lunch but it's too late. She has me in her sights, and she is definitely not going to let me go now.

"Well, well, well!" she exclaims, her hands hiding something behind her back. What will it be now? My pale skin? My "creepy" eyes? Or will she go for a lower blow like this morning?

She slowly brings her hands from hiding behind her, putting the object in them into view. My lunchbox.

Shit.

Curse these old lockers for not doing their job and locking all the way.

"Give me my lunchbox." I try to be as assertive as I can, but Mika just laughs.

"Oh this thing?" She dangles it in front of my face with her pointer finger, then proceeds to open it, examining its contents.

"Damn, fat ass, there's a lot of food in here!" Mika then flips the thing over and dumps everything to the floor. Everyone in her little group bursts into laughter, all except Harry. He just stands there with his usual stern expression, trying not to look at whats going on in front of him.