Flicker (H.S)

03.

“BREAKING NEWS: An accomplice has been found in the case of Harry Styles, the murderer of six innocents last week. A male seemingly in his early twenties or late teens partook in a police chase last night around 23:10 after being seen placing a red rose on the mangled body of an unrecognizable victim. The chase went on for three hours, but the unknown accomplice got away. According to eyewitness reports, the male is blonde and pale, is around 1.70 metres tall and muscularly built. If you see this man as explained, please call this number [xxxx xxxx] or your emergency help number [9-9-9].” -Oakwood Local News

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Last night, he drank.

And this morning, as he woke up with a sore arse and a sick stomach in his sister’s bed, he couldn’t remember a thing about the night before. Other than the fact that he dragged his miserable body over to Liam’s after seeing a picture of her.

The girl who is never coming back.

This morning at breakfast [after Harry had gotten rid of all he ate last night] Mel reminded him of his required work at the primary school down the street. And Harry hated kids. And his girlfriend was never coming back and he has a sore arse and a sick stomach and Jess is never coming back. But it’s okay really.

You know, kind of.

“You’re such a moron.” Mel reminded him, knocking her head back to get the last drop of orange juice from the bottom of her cup. “If you don’t like kids, why did you sign up?”

Harry stuffed another bite of burnt toast into his mouth before speaking. “Cause’ it was either this or helping at the nursing home for community service hours.” He answered. Mel tried to ignore the little specks of bread flying out of his mouth along with his words. “Even though I still don’t think I need to do community service at all.”

His sister, who was kind enough to share her bed last night with a brother who talks in his sleep, tossed her cup into the sink along with all the dishes they will most-likely do later. Probably. “That’s bullshit. You shoplifted and argued with the policeman when they cuffed you. You deserve community service.”

The boy with a sore arse and never coming back girlfriend rolled his eyes and finished off his toast, kissing his sister’s cheek as he grabbed his keys and made his way towards the school.

And Jess was never coming back.

But it’s okay, really.

You know, kind of.

 

“Do you wanna colour?”

Harry’s eyes were pried open at the high-pitched voice. As his vision cleared, he took in the sight of a little boy with a mop of curly blonde hair and brown eyes framed with mile-long lashes staring up at him. In his miniature hands resided two of what were supposed to be crayons, but the paper was torn off and all that was left were nubs of the original colouring utensils.

“Not with those.” Harry replied, adjusting his position in the chair and attempting to fall back asleep. The room was loud. But so were his thoughts, so he was used to it.

The boy who was only a little cute dug around in the drawer full of crayons for a few moments as Harry felt himself begin to slip into sleep once more. Then he felt a tap on his bicep.

“Do you like green better?” He asked, showing him the green crayon rather than the blue one he showed Harry a moment before. “And if you don’t like green, we have orange, and pink, and red, and-”