Prologue

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Harry is the most terrifying person I've ever met. No, it wasn't his matted hair and torn white

jumpers he put to use every Saturday without fail. It was his eyes, their cold hard stare that was as empty as a bucket coming up from a Saharan well.

Thump. Thump.

He was walking down the staircase above the glory hole I am sat uncomfortably within. I hear a

drum beat, like a giant jogging after me at a pace that could kill him. Beads of unforeseen sweat

roll down the flesh of my temples, I wipe it away with my sleeve. That drum beat was my own

heart.

"Lou?" The voice of my assailant travels through the opaque wooden walls of my cupboard under the stairs.

I draw in a deep, silent breath that I plan to hold in for a good two hours. I imagine Harry grazing

muck from those God-forsaken boots all over the staircase. He wouldn't give me a side-ward

glance if I were to open my mouth and complain though.

His aged Ray Bans would be pushed higher to crown his forehead; his bandanna would be shifted

but not removed, and he would leave the room as if I'd said nothing to begin with.

"Lou? Where are you?" I could hear that edge in his voice that arose when he was being

threatened. I was all too familiar with that resignation and it would be my weapon one day.

My chest constricts painfully and I'm forced to exhale. I am careful for the deed not to become

audible, I take in another sweep of stale and damp air.

"You don't play fair, Lou." He speaks softly, chuckling to himself but knowing that the sound

reaches my ears.

I gulp. My Adam's Apple bobs frantically as the air in this confinement grows in levels of

moisture, thickening and suffocating me. My vision is obstructed by burning drops of salt water

that threaten to spill over onto my cheeks and my Hollister sweater.

I need to cough but at this stage, not knowing what shade of Harry awaits me on the other side of

this cardboard door, I'd rather swallow it and meet with pain than let him hear me.

"Lou!" He barks outside the door. His voice is panicked now, urgent and afraid in the after-tones.

I don't believe him. Harry is a master of vocal disguise and can make anyone - and I mean anyone

- feel what he wants them to feel through just a few primitive words. I've seen it.

I hear his thunderous, echoing footsteps as he nears my hiding place. I hear him shuffling for

something, the cheap nylon of his rain jacket whizzing as he patted the folds and pockets. Oh shit!

He's going to dial my number and The Fray's You Found Me would give away my position.

I remove my phone silently from my sweater pocket, swiping my finger across the screen when I

feel bile rise in my throat. It's hollow and threatening to choke me violently. I squeeze my eyes

shut as I attempt to swallow. My throat clears momentarily. I refrain from putting my iPhone off

completely in this house, no one ever should. I put the ringer on silent and watch as Harry's name

flashes on my screen.

Below his identification is a photograph I'd taken sneakily at the party a few weeks back. Oh how

I wish I could take it all back.

On account of my previous hysteria, smothering my gasp now wasn't too challenging. Harry's

hamster named Hamster by originality, scurries across my lap with its tiny paws before sniffing at the door. No.

"Lou, I don't want to play anymore." Harry croaks from outside in the dilapidated doorway. I

ignore the sheer hopelessness in his voice, knowing it all to be a great deception.

The furry rodent's whiskers brush against the wooden door stopper, and the thin planks keeping

this structure in place. I scoop him up in one hand, bringing him to my chest in order to prevent

him from causing too loud a sound.

My head throbs from lack of water, dehydration is evident with the pressing of my fingers to my

temple bones. Hamster hops out of my grip when I'm distracted by the obnoxious banging thuds

on the other side of this flimsy barrier.

He runs down the length of my leg, until he's scraped his way into the tiny rat hole I wish I was

scaled down to size to fit into as well.

Silence. The most deafening and unassuming sound in this little town. Metal creaks and my

circulatory system goes into overdrive. The doorknob that I'd fastened not too long ago twists

against my will.

I swallow back the painful lump in my esophagus, it is as stubborn as it has always been. I shut

my eyelids clenching and unclenching my fists as the door draws outward.

"Boo!" Harry whispers to me encouraging me to look at him.

My vision flutters before his handsome visage comes into focus. His black rain jacket is scattered

with drops of rainwater and so is his hair. The corners of his mouth twitch into a proud smirk,

revealing a few of his perfect teeth.

I look at him with hesitancy, fear rooting itself into my being.

"I told you I'd always find you, Lou." He grins clearly content with whatever's wrong with him.

I resist the urge that materializes out of nothing to roll my eyes, he'd throw a tantrum if I did.

He holds out his hand, decorated with self-harm marks and tattoos, for me to take. "It's your turn

to count. I'll hide."

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