Spirit of the Dismantled

(M: Contains sexual scenes, offensive language and abuse) "I can't do this anymore. Why did I put up with that crap for 14 years? Why!!?" Cynthia is sick of being abused and mistreated. She just wants out and fast. With home life getting worse by the second, she needs to escape. With nowhere to go, she is positive that all is lost until a handsome boy comes to her rescue and little does she know that she'd need him like he needs her. The similarities that they share are disarming and together they embark on a journey where it takes two to survive.


14. Chapter 14.

Harry's P.O.V

"Cynthia!" I limp over towards her. She lays there, still and unresponsive. The truck makes a splash in the water before slowly going with the current. It bobs just above the water as it makes it's way down. But I'm not worried about that.

"Cynthia, please answer me," I cough. I feel for her pulse and see that she's still alive but only just. Her breathing is shallow and blood seeps from her head. I hurriedly pull off my top and gently lift her head so that I can place my top underneath to wrap around it. The shirt is quick to stain as it absorbs the blood. The boulder is stained a sickly dark red.

"Oh Cynthia, I'm so sorry," I choke with emotion. I can hear people calling from on top of the hill but I'm not focused on them. Cynthia's chest rises softly as I check her head and see that her hair is matted with a dark crimson. I gently pick her up, careful for her head. People start running down and rush towards my aid. 

"Hey, you alright?" a worried lady stumbles towards me. Her face is etched with her concern as she gasps when she sees Cynthia.

"Just get some help." I push past the building crowd an walk uphill. My torso is slightly sore from the jump and I have a slight graze on my head but I ain't worried in the slightest. Oh please Cynthia! Please be alright!

"Hey mate, let me help aye?" a broad guy trudges up to me. I shake my head.

"I'm fine. I've got her." 

"C'mon mate, just let me help." his tone is persistent.

"No! I just said no." I snap. He backs away and so does the rest of the crowd. Cynthia still lays limp in my arms, so weak and fragile. People driving past stare on in wonder but I choose to ignore their greedy eyes.

"The ambulance is here," an elderly lady points towards a speeding ambulance van, coming straight for us. I sag a little in relief as it pulls up and the people hop out.

"Mark, we're gonna need a stretcher, mate," a lady in her mid-40's with the name-tag Allie yells. 

"I'm on it."

"Are you okay? What's her name?" she asks me.

"Yeah, I'm alright and her name is Cynthia."

"Cynthia, alright, well we're gonna need to check you out, just in case, and you can tell us what happened, yeah?" she smiles. I nod.

"Here ya go. We got her mate," the guy with the name Mark pushes the stretcher towards us. I place Cynthia onto it with ease and back away when the paramedics rally around her. 

"We'll need you to come with us." Mark pats my arm.


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