Broken Beyond Repair

Chapter Twenty Nine

Don't be sad, people have it worse. Don't be happy, people have it better.

~:HARRYS POV:~

I'm frantically looking for Joyce, perhaps she went back to the car. I run to the car hoping she'll be waiting for me there, but I'm greeted by an empty seat.

"Joyce!" I call. I need my darling, I need to hold her tight. I need to comfort her, tell her I'm here before she makes any hasty decisions.

I call and call again, I walk a few blocks but I don't see her anywhere. She couldn't have gone far. I walk back to the house and turn the knob, except its locked, fuck.

I result to pounding on the door desperately, her mothers my only hope. I pray that she'll spare me some time even after I yelled at her.

"What do you want?" She asks, her eyes are blotchy from crying but I feel no sympathy.

"Where would Joyce usually go when she was upset?" I ask impatiently, if I don't find her within the hour I think I'll break down.

"To her room," she states and it takes everything in me not to yell at her.

"Other than her room. Like outside. Would she usually go anywhere?"

She ponders a few moments before nodding.

~:JOYCE'S POV:~

Is it healthy to feel this worthless? For me it is.

It's sickening how little I want to live. The desire to become big and famous is long gone, I just want to shrivel up and become a speck of dust now.

Harry went back inside and I'm not sure why. Probably to give my mom a high five and plan more ways to make my life miserable. They're probably laughing at me at this very moment. Maybe they're peeking out the window and howling in laughter at my broken state. I self-consciously have to look at the window just to make sure.

I use Harrys absence as an advantage and begin to walk down the familiar streets. I pass all the shops I used to go to, and make my way to my destination.

The weather describes my mood; cloudy and grey. How badly I want to end my suffering is sky high. The list of things to live for is blurry and distant, I can't see a single reason why I shouldn't just make another attempt.

"You know, he said it was my fault. You weren't supposed to be born and yet here you are, he left me because of you. Because you hurt yourself for attention. I've come to realize that it wasn't my fault at all, but yours."

The words play like a broken record in my head, I want to crawl under a rock and make it my home. I finally see how unwanted I am. If my own parents don't want me why would anyone else?

Nobody even likes me in the slightest. My parents disown me, find me disgusting. Josh is disappointed in me. Harry just feels sorry for me. The boys don't even care for me. Niall resents me. Louis is mad at me for hurting Harry. Zayn barely talks to me anymore. Liam probably thinks I'm using Harry. Sara's dead and most likely looking down at me with such disappointment and shame.

I'm no use to anyone. I'm just a toy that people played with before they got bored and threw me away. I'm a puzzle that no one likes or can solve because most the pieces are missing. I'm a ball that after being bounced so many times I start to deflate. I'm the rat in the house that everyone wants to get rid of.

I'm useless. Worthless. Undesirable. Unwanted. Neglected. Hated.

So why am I still living? Honestly, I have no clue. I should of jumped off that bridge when I had the chance and not waste a second looking back.

Goddamn it! Why did Harry have to stop me? Why did he have to tug me away from my fate? Why, why, why?!

I'm so broken. So disgustingly broken. How is it humanly possible to feel this much hatred for yourself? I want to cry, cry so hard until my eyes hurt so bad. I want to throw up until my system shuts down. I want to run until my knees give out.

Before I know it, I'm running. Running away from my troubles, but they seem to follow me. The truth is, I can't run from my troubles because they're in my head. I tried getting out but they glued themselves in my mind.

I'm at my childhood getaway. The place I went when the yelling could be heard through my bedroom door. I'm at the park I used to spend my days clearing my head.

Thankfully, it's empty just like my soul. The swings sway ever so slightly in the breeze. The rusty teeter totter sits there lonely beside the metal slide. I take my old seat on the swing and move with the wind. I grab the chains and bow my head.

My dark brown hair curtains around me, shielding me from civilians. Shielding me from the dark society. My feet brush slightly over the stones on the playground.

Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will forever hurt me.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

I let pain win, I let it take over me. I didn't try to fight, I just sat there and let it break me. Now look where I am.

I hope someone comes along and shoots me where I sit. Right here and right now. Or even kidnap me, torture me and then kill me with a silver bullet.

I bring out my cracked phone and look down at my ugly reflection. The drained look on my face seems to be permanent. What could Harry possibly see in this hideous creature.

I hear the crunch of pebbles and then a rusty screech of the swing set. Someone took a seat next to me. Maybe it's the murderer I asked for, or some little girl that wants to swing and not have me interrupt her. I don't look up, I don't move, simply because I don't find the need to.

They get up, I can tell because the sound of shuffling feet reappears. The swing I'm sitting in starts to move forward slowly, then back. Forward, then back, and repeat.

To be honest it's quite creepy, some stranger pushing me on the swing, yet comforting at the same time.

The swing is slowly coming to a halt, I see boots in front of me. They look oddly similar to Harrys. The stranger brings a hand to my chin and they feel familiar to Harrys touch too, I can't help but feel disgusted in this stranger. But I don't stop him.

Harry's features greet me, his stunning green eyes. Those kissable, caring pink lips. The sloppy curls that I want to run my hair through badly. I want his dimples to appear, I want to see the beautiful smile that I've come to love, but it's hidden behind his lips.

Without a word I lean in and kiss those soft limps. He responds almost right away and holds my neck. Here we are, kissing on a playground. We both pull away.

His soul is shining through his eyes, I've never seen someone so perfect. I say the words that finally met their way through my lips.

"I couldn't find a single reason to live, but then I found you."

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I never want this story to end.

Not that it's going to anytime soon but still.

JARRY /\(•_•/\ JARRY /\(•_•)/\

J A R R Y YOU AIN'T GOT NO ALLABY

Keep fighting beauts

G r a c e