Adopted By Harry Styles

Chapter 17

I heard the sound if a ice cream truck coming by then suddenly my little six year old instincts came in. You know, the one that makes you want to climb Mt. Everest, swim across the Atlantic Ocean, push your mom out the way just to get an ice cream cone. Those were the days.

Ugh...mornings. The worst part of the day.

I rubbed my eyes with my long-sleeved, slightly bloodstained, and baggy sleeve. I start to get up from my bed just soon feel a sharp pain in both of my wrists. I already know what it is, it was just proof that what happened last night really did happen and wasn't a halutionation or a dream. I wish it was. Although the pain was unbearable, I did somehow managed to bare through it.

I sat up in my bed and looked towards the photo of me and my family. Mom, dad, Andrew, and me. One big happy, normal, and one if a kind family. I remember one time when dad set the grill on fire and tried to stop it. Mom went and grabbed the hose and took out the fire. My brother and I embraced each other but not in fear, but with laughter. This is why we let mom do the cooking and not dad. It wasn't the first time he'd burst something into flames. He managed to make the toaster explode.

I smiled as I remembered the flashback. Those were the good days.

I forced myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to put that liquid on my newly pierced ears. I remembered was weirdo Bobby had said (mostly he was annoying in my opinion. Not to mention that he sounded a lot like Tristan from Degrassi). Like he said, it did kinda hurt. Then, I made my way towards kitchen. I saw Harry eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles on the couch while watching Spongebob Squarepants on the TV. He such an adult I know. "Hi Harry." I said softy. He turned around and saw me. Then he turned away saying nothing. I don't get it. Last night, he kissed my forehead and said he understood why I did it and forgave me. Is he pretending that that moment never occurred? Or that the encounter with my scared and cuts were never there?

"Harry?" He didn't answer. I felt tears building up but I wouldn't allow them to fall. I couldn't. I instead walked toward the kitchen, not making any contact with Harry, and pored myself a bowl of Cheerios. Plain, but delicious! I sat down at the kitchen table and picked at my food. If I eat, Harry will be happy, but he won't have a reason to talk to me. But if I don't eat, then Harry will talk to me and therefore have a reason. Brilliant!

I continue to pick at my bowl of plain Cheerios not putting anything in my mouth, hoping that Harry would talk to me. I was hungry and wanted to eat oh so desperately but I wanted Harry to tell me to do so much like a parent should. Only, he didn't. He only continued to watch Spongebob.

My heart was shattering slowly and then all at once.

I decided to eat at my own paise. While I stuffed my face with Cheerios, Spongebob and Patrick was trying to find the main drain. It's funny how I remember this show. The last time I recall watching this show was about four months before the crash. The animation is different.

I finish my bowl of cereal and walk into the kitchen. I started to wash my plate. I guess since I lived in a slave work shop (the orphanage) not too long ago I've gotten used to cleaning everything up. Everyone except Shannon had to clean. Once cleaned, I set it to dry on a plate rack.

Harry continued watching TV.

I had an idea to make him talk. I "accidentally" shove the plate off the rack and make it crash to the floor, making it break into smithereens. It made Harry jump. "SHIT!" I shouted bending over to pick up parts of the bowl. "WHAT HAPPENED?!" Harry said.

Mission: complete. Ha ha ha.

"The bowl slipped out of my hands and it fell and it broke!" I answered. I may get a lecture about how I have to be more carful, but at least Harry was finally talking to me. That made me happy inside.