bully. «l.s»

01

Chapter 01:
3rd person «Harry»

"Shut that bloody alarm up Harry!" Gemma, Harry's sister yelled from her room across the hall. Harry groaned, rolling onto his side while attempting to find his ringing phone lying somewhere on the bed next to him with his hand. He finally gave up and opened his eyes, exposing the bright sunlight shining through the window on the other side of the room.

"Where the fuck are you," Harry asked himself, directing towards the phone. He was getting frustrated with the same ringtone repeating itself over, and over again.

Once he finally found the phone under his pillow, he quickly shut the alarm off and closed his eyes for a minute, then sat up on his bed. But that was soon followed with his head crashing against the pillow once again. Lying sideways on his bed, he heard his mum yelling from down the stairs to his sister. Something about telling him to get up, which he knew she would soon come barging in through the door leading t-

"Harry! I swear that if you don't get up right this instant I will-" there it is. She pushed the door open, causing it to slam against his wall and startle him awake. She stopped in her tracks though, instead of following her regular routine of threatening to kill him, then pull the covers off Harry, to leave him shivering.

"It looks like a bloody tornado came through here Harold," She said looking around with her eyes wide, "even more than it usually does."

"Get out," Harry said, rolling his eyes and sitting up on the side of his bed as he watched Gemma leave through his door, leaving it open, knowing she would leave Harry to have to get up and close it. But also knowing it was one of Harry's biggest pet peeves, as she knew the following yell was coming.

"And close the fucking door next time, holy shit!" He said, slamming the door causing the hinges to rattle.

"Language Harold!" He faintly heard Anne yell from downstairs, but rolled  his eyes and began to strip from his clothes as he walked into his closet.

He picked out the normal, black ripped skinny jeans, an old band t-shirt, with black boots. He slid the expensive pair of boots on, ran a hand through his hair, and started off down the stairs.

"And where did you manage to get a hold of those shoes?" Anne questioned as soon as Harry stepped into the living room.

"I bought them," Harry bluntly explained to his suspicious mother. Who now put the book that was in her hands down, and walked over to Harry, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Are you telling me the truth Harry?" She asked, giving the 'you'll-regret-it-if-you-lie' look and stopping right in front of the boots in which Harry stood in.

"Yep," Harry said, quickly backing away and grabbing his book bag, filled with not books, but drugs, that he would soon sell for a high price to the rich private school kids across the street from his school. "Got to get going now, going to Zayn's after school, see ya." He told his mum, who sat back down in her spot from before, while walking out the door.

"You bet your ass you aren't going to that kids house again Harry!" Anne yelled, but Harry ignoring her, "Harry! Get back here!"

"Bye mum!" He said, closing the door, once he saw his mother rising from her chair again to try to chase Harry down. He jumped in his car, and sped off, making sure to not leave any time for his mom to catch him.

His ring filled fingers tapped against the leather steering wheel while he waited at the red light. He turned the speakers on, playing Fleetwood Mac, he always had a soft spot for Stevie.

Today was Harry's third day of hell. School in other words. In the new town, he's already beaten up a few different kids, but making a deal with Zayn, a 'friend' of his, to sell with him to make some money.

Once Harry made it into the car park, he parked in the front near the school, so he wouldn't have to walk as much. He stepped out of his black Ford Mustang, and looked around for Zayn.

He felt a hand slap his shoulder and flinched at the touch.

"Where's my money mate?" He recognized Zayn's voice and turned around, he reached in his bag and grabbed a ziplock bag filled with 5000 pounds and tossed it to Zayn.

"Thanks man," Zayn said, stuffing the money into his own bag, and waiting for Harry to follow him. "What's up."

"Not much except the dread of being here," Harry complained.

"You see that kid right there?" Zayn said, pointing to a boy walking down the sidewalk into the school's car park. He had brown feathery hair, he wore ripped blue jeans, rolled up at the ankles, with a plain grey sweatshirt, which was a little too big for him.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"Let's go have some fun why don't we?" Zayn smirked, looking at Harry, who was hesitant at the way Zayn worded it.

"I-I don't know," Harry breathed.

"Loosen up, don't be a pussy," Zayn slapped Harry's back, causing Harry to once again flinch.

"I have to go, I'll catch up later," Harry said stopping and turning around.

"Whatever, more fun for me," Zayn said, shrugging and returning his sight to the small boy walking along the stairs.

Harry watched from the corner as Zayn put his foot in front of the boy's. Causing the brown haired boy to fall down the few stairs in back of him. He saw Zayn say something, offering his hand to the small lad, helping him up, and leading him to the side of the building. Tears left Harry's eyes as the pictures flashed through his head.

A few minutes later, a smirking Zayn came out from the other side of the wall. Moments after that, came the crying boy, with his hood over his head. He pulled at the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and soon after put earbuds in, pulling out his phone.

Harry wiped his hand to his eyes, getting rid of the unwanted tears. And walked into the school, heading to first lesson.

word count: 1069
tysm 4 reading
more to come