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.


2. Chapter 2.

Harry's P.O.V

"You can't help me son so just give up," my mother whispers. I bunch up my fists as I sigh heavily. 

"Mum, just leave him and come live with me," I beg for the 10th time. Why won't she just listen?

"Son, no! For the last time no!" she stands from her weak state and walks over toward me. I flinch.

"Look son, I know you're trying to help but you have to let me do this. I-I can't leave him. Not yet." she brushes her hand across my cheek, trying to take away the sting from her earlier response. I lean into her hand and look into her beautiful brown eyes.

"Mum..please. It hurts me to see you like this. I can take care of you. That scumbag is messing you around," I try for a different tactic.

"Baby, I know you would but sometimes love is blind, you gotta trust your instincts. I-I don't think he's cheating on me. He's just busy, that's all," but her tone is unsure. She knows I'm right.

"Mum, every time I come around, you're always sulking or upset and mopping around the kitchen and it kills me to see you like that," I croon. She smiles as if tired of everything. Pete's pathetic excuses and late night outs. Mum has called me a couple of times having been worried about his whereabouts. My anger subsides as she starts to cry.

"Hush mum. I didn't mean to make you cry. Please come and stay at mine, even if it's for a little while," I tilt her head up to meet my gaze. My poor fragile mother.

"Okay son. Yes, I'll come. Just let me pack my stuff," she nods. My eyes light up.

"Let me help you." I offer and set off towards her room before packing some things. She doesn't have much so it makes my job a whole lot easier. Coming back out to the living room with a bag in tow, I see mum standing at the ranch slider, the moonlight cast upon her. I gasp. Bruises cover her legs and her arms are not further off.

Why hadn't I seen this earlier? 

What has he done? 

She turns toward me with a smile on her face but stills when she sees my expression.

"What's wrong?" her eyes grow wide, red-rimmed from her crying. 

"Nothing. Go mum, I got your stuff. The truck's unlocked," I reassure her. I don't want her to bail out on me.

"Okay son and thank you sweetheart. I'd like to think I raised you well," she smiles sadly.

"Of course you did. I'd do anything to make you happy mum. It'd be considered disrespectful not to," I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yes you would," she replies softly as we make our way to the car. Hoping in, I check that everything's clear and set off. All is well until I drive past a black BMW, the car I know so well. Pete's in it and he doesn't look happy. He catches my eye as we drive past. It's one of disgust as my mum shrinks in the passenger's seat. He doesn't look like he's seen her. Luckily, she's on the other side of me. I can hear the faint noise of abuse being hurled in my direction but I put on some music and the soft tunes of Jason Mraz fill the car.

"Did Pete see me?" my mother whispers horrified. She sits back up, clutching onto her hands as they tremble. Her face is of pure terror and I grimace. What has this bastard done to her?

"No mum. You're safe with me. Let's just get you home," I reach over and grab her hand as she grasps it tightly.

"Okay, that's a good idea," she whispers and falls into an exhausted sleep.

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