The Garden Of Larry

Um, hi, I'm Harry and.....

(Harry)

I was awoken by being hit by a pillow. Is this the new alarm clock?

"Harry, get your ass out of bed! This is unhealthy! Let me help you."

"Shut up. I'm trying to sleep." I mumbled underneath my other pillow.

"No. You need my help, so take it!" He tore my covers right off me to expose my naked body.

"LIAM! What the hell!?"

"Gross. Why are you naked?" He grimaced.

"If you don't want to see all of this, don't take my covers away."

"But why are you naked?"

"I sleep this way. Now stop looking at me with those judging eyes."

"Fine. Get dressed; you're going to rehab this afternoon."

"Rehab?"

************

I've decided, and when I say I, I actually mean Liam, to go to rehab. Apparently it might help me with my drinking problem, but I don't actually think I'm an alcoholic. All that I'm really gaining from coming here is embarrassment. So here I am sitting in a room, on a chair in a d@mn circle with a bunch of bloody strangers. I don't like this and I probably won't come again because it doesn't seem like it'll be beneficial. But I'm only going because Liam said it would help and he's helping me stop drinking. Though, as I said, it probably won't help me anyways. Plus, I don't know any of these people, so why should they get to know why problems?

"Um, hi. I'm Harry and." This is ridiculous. I'm not an alcoholic so why say I am?

I stood up and grabbed my stuff. Then I looked at everyone.

"I'm sorry, but I thought this was book club. I hope all of you get better and um, best of luck to you all." I exited the building.

Well, I went to rehab like Liam asked me to. If he asks, I can now honestly say that I went. I may not have stayed, but I did go. Going is the first step to recovery, right? I went all the way home and Liam looked up at me from his book once I entered the living room.

"So, how did rehab go?"

"Well, honestly, I think it really helped. I realized that I have a problem and thanks to you, I'm not going to drink excessively anymore." I smiled.

"That's great, Harry! I'm so glad I could help you." He went back to reading. Um, yeah. You didn't actually help me, Liam. But I do feel a lot better now.

************

Rehab sucked. I was too nervous to say anything so I decided not to. I decided to look at inspirational things that Lou used to say to me. But every time I read one, one of the hurtful things that drunk Louis told me would pop up too.

'You're beautiful, Harold. I promise you....."

'You're-you're ugly anyways. Why would I love you.....'

'Why do I smile in the morning? I get to wake up to you; that's why.....'

'What did I do wrong to see you looking at me all judgey every morning, huh? You don't get to judge me; you're just as F'ed up as me, Harry.....'

'Don't put yourself down, my love. You are perfect just the way you are.....'

'Oh, and you think your perfect? Guess what, Harry, you're more messed up then me.....'

'I may not always show it, but I love you very much, Harry.....'

'I've never loved you. I just said that so you'd by me shit.....'

'You didn't have to get me anything for my birthday, Harold; you're all the present I need.....'

'And what is this? Some sort of journal? For what? To write about my feeling or something? What do you take me for, a pathetic baby like you.....'

I stopped trying to find the right quote to remind myself. I just made myself feel much worse than I did before trying to find the right quote. Why am I so stupid?

'You're so stupid because you ever thought I loved you.....'

Drunk Louis is right. He never really loved me. Who would? I don't. He didn't. Liam doesn't really. Nobody does. I'm just fooling myself to try and stay around longer. I don't think I can do this for much longer though.

'Of course you can't, Harry. You're pathetic.....'

Stop telling me stuff like that, drunk Louis. I'm not pathetic. I've made it this far.

'You've only made it this far because I let you. I own you, Harry.....'

I smashed my mirror and let the blood from my wound drip to the bathroom floor. It's not much, and it didn't even hurt me, to be honest. It didn't feel good either. I thought when you're depressed it's supposed to feel better than the emotional pain. Was that all a lie? I don't feel any better than I did before and this wasn't even intentional.

Maybe that's why it didn't make me feel better? Maybe I have to hurt myself on purpose to feel better?

A/N Haven't done one of these in a while. NO, HARRY! No hurting yourself.