Weirdo //h.s. [Editing]

[14] Escape

Update (2018): *Sydney is no longer played by Cher Lloyd. She is now played by Lucy Hale. The amount of comments I've gotten on this is comical and I agree with you all, my 2014 decision wasn't wise😂 Okay, you're welcome😂*

I also just wanted to warn you that this chapter briefly mentions bipolar disorder. I just want to let you know it is not my intention to offend any of you, so please don't take whatever is said in here seriously, as I only wrote about it to describe Harry and in no way do I believe everyone with this disorder acts that way. I hope you understand what I'm saying! Enjoy xx

*A week later*

Sydney

"Sydney, go sweep the floor in the kitchen, it's extremely sandy." Harry orders and plops down on the chouch. I sigh and stand up from the chair I was peacfully sitting on.

"I dont understand why you can't just do it." I mumble under my breath as I walk over to the kitchen.

"What was that?" Harry calls from where he is watching tv.

"Nothing." I make sure I'm loud enough for him to hear this time.

"Let's make a rule, baby girl." Harry says calmly as we stands up and walks toward me. He leans against the oposite side of the island from me and sends a quick wink.

"What would that rule be?" I cock an eyebrow up at him, silently praying nothing bad is about to be said.

"If you don't have the balls to say it out loud, don't mutter it, hoping I don't hear." He rolls his eyes and takes a seat on one of the counter stools, placing his chin on the palms of his hands.

"Last time I checked, I actually didn't have balls.." I reply sarcastically and cross my arms over my chest, turning my head to the side.

"Stop being a smart arse!" He raises his voice and I smile to myself when I notice he said arse instead of ass that time. He must of remembered what I had said a while ago.

"Sorry." I turn away from him and roll my eyes.

"Now, I want to try that again. What did you say?" He leans closer and cups his hand around his ear for emphasis. I mentally roll my eyes at his stupidness before answering.

"I said, I don't understand why you can't just sweep the floor yourself." I tell him honestly and his gaze hardens slightly before it softens again.

"Because, I asked you to. Remember what I said? Start listening to me." He commands and stands up.

"Yes, I remember. I'm sorry." I say lowly, knowing I never actually mean it when I apologize to him; he doesn't deserve a single one of my apologies.

"No need to apologize, love, just do as I say and things will be fine." He smiles kindly before walking off.

The week had went by agonizingly slow. With my cracked rib, I mostly stayed in my bed, aside from the few times I'd get up to walk around and take a bath. Now my side has mostly healed and the pain has simmered drastically. It only hurts if I twist my abdomen a certain way, but other than that, I can walk fine and do basically everything I did before the incident. Because of this, Harry has gone right back to his normal self; calling out orders, making me bow down to his every word. I'm fed up with it completely, I have been right from the very start. And that brings me to where I am now; sweeping his gross kitchen floor.

I sigh in relief when I finally finish. I put the broom away and walk back to my room, not seeing Harry anywhere. I see the light shinning through the bottom of his door as I walk by though, giving me the indication that he is in his room. I shut my door behind me, wishing for the millionth time that the lock was on the inside and not the outside, you know, the way it should be. All I want is to lock my door just for a few hours to get some privacy and peace and quiet without having to worry about Harry bursting through the door to order me around some more. I collapse on my bed and burry my face in the pillow, coming back up for air seconds later and resting the side of my face against the cushion. I look out the small window that is located on the far wall. I have often thought about jumping out of it, as this house is a bungalow and nothing serious would happen to me, but the problem would be getting up on the window sill. The window is low enough to see out of, but too high for me to get up on; even jumping wouldn't be good enough for me to hoist myself up.