things i can't (l.s)

Chapter 22

Authors Note: Hi guys!!! Short chapter today, but I will be back!!! (edit: NOT tomorrow :o) You guys are literally amazing, reading your comments is the absolute best part of my day- especially if I'm struggling on a particular day... I couldn't be more grateful.

Remember to always stay safe and reach out for help if you need it,

and if you're looking for a sign to stay alive today- let this be it. I love you.

Ash xxx

Harry's POV:

I flush the toilet and sneak back upstairs to my room, my head spinning in circles thinking of the sick, twisted behavior this man just acted upon me. My mind erased all logical solutions to the problem that was Scott. Right now I just needed to feel something that I was in control of- the pain I could inflict onto myself. Rushing over to my blades, I shove my cream-colored sweater up my arm and hold up a shakey, sweaty hand. I stare blankly at my skin as I drag the blade across my wrist, feeling nothing but shame and anger for what had just happened- thinking about what he might do next. All I can do now is cut, deeper and deeper in one spot just to make it worse- to make it uglier. I deserved this. I couldn't protect myself from Scott, and I couldn't protect my mother from him if she needed me. The wound reaches a point where I can't cut anymore without the blood getting in the way of my blade, or dripping onto the floor.

Lifting the blade from my now blood-stained wrist, chills are sent down my spine. The warm liquid trickling down my forearm reminds me of how good it feels to let go in this pathetic, yet sinisterly orgasmic way.

"Good enough for now," my eyes slowly lift from my arm and I drop the blade onto the floor, an emotionless expression on my face. I walk away from the blade in a zombie-like state, unconcerned for the blood-stain that was bound to be left on the beige carpet beneath my feet. My legs slowly carry me to the bathroom to bandage the cut. It was deeper than I'd ever gone before- of course, I was proud of it internally. Externally though, I lazily wrap the cut and stare into the mirror.

The rings around my eyes are a stronger shade of purple, my lips cracked and dry. My skin glows a yellow-pale in the fluorescent bathroom light, and I frown at my reflection before exiting the bathroom.

~

Numbness.

What else do you feel when something so perverted happens to you, and you're unsure if it will happen again, or if something worse will happen? You can't wrap your brain around it, can you? All you can do is be disgusted with yourself and the person who assaulted you. I felt incapable of being anything but numb at this point.

~

I hear both my mom and Scott leave the house just in time for me to be on my way to school.

I don't feel like riding my bike to burn calories today, so instead I peddle slower than ever before. My head lifts up for a moment to glance at the trees that layer my street, glittering with pink cherry blossoms in the mid-morning sun. I spot the baby ducks at the neighborhood pond as I ride by, swimming alongside their mother as she leads them to the nearest piece of bread, floating amongst the surface of the water.

And then I think about Louis- and I wonder how some things can be so beautiful, yet come out of a world as cruel as this one.