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.


6. Chapter 6.

Harry's P.O.V

Cynthia runs off into her room, abandoning the dishes. I stare after her in shock. What an idiot! Why did I ask that? It's not like I didn't know. I curse to myself as I finish off her job. You idiot! She's probably gonna want to run off right now and I sure as hell don't want that. Maybe I should go check up on her after this. Yeah, I should after that upfront comment. Mum walks in, the least amused.

"What's with that girl son?" she taps her fingers against the counter-top, her expression of annoyance.

"She's just a friend mum. She needs a place to crash, is that alright?" I answer exasperated. She purses her lips at my tone.

"Son, I don't want you sleazing around with the likes of her. I know what you've gone through before..."

"Stop! Just stop it okay? What is your problem? If I want to help a friend then I will do just that!" my voice raises a few decibels. She raises her eyebrows in a did-you-just-raise-your-voice look. 

"Son..don't you dare speak to me like that, ya hear? You're very much entitled to a life but as your mother, I know very well what's best for you. She looks like nothing but trouble," she hisses.

"Well look who's talking ma'! Your life speaks for itself, don't ya think?" I seethe. I am angry. Actually, angry doesn't even cover it. Here's the mum I know so well. Ha, I knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up. She takes a step back.

"You're just like him. You wanna hurt me? Go ahead! Go right ahead son! You and Pete have too much in common. I don't even know why I agreed to come stay here! I was better off without your fucking interference!" she spits. Tears start to prick her eyes but she makes no move to wipe them away. I grimace.

"Mum, I am nothing like him and I never will be! Unlike that scumbag, I've made a life for myself and don't spend my time beating the shit outta women or abuse and the likes so don't you dare stand there and compare me to him," I'm quivering with anger. How could she?

"Harry Edward Styles, I know just as well as you do that you wanna hurt me. The look in your eyes says it all. Go on, you've done it before. Show me the real you son. C'mon," she challenges and now the tears are falling carelessly down her pale cheeks. I close my eyes and try to simmer my anger. When I open them again, she's breathing heavily but standing her ground. She's watching me, looking for any sign that I may snap.

"You need help mum. I know some people that can help you. I think you need to rest. End of discussion," I sigh. She looks taken aback. Obviously shocked by my calm response.

"I don't need help-"

"Mum, what I say is what goes. Now go," I point toward the living room. Her shoulders sag and I know she's tired. Most probably tired out from our heated argument.

"Son, this is not the end, believe me. I'm tired and I shall go to sleep but not because you said, it's because I want to," she resigns. I breathe out a sigh of relief. What a frustrating woman. Suddenly, I can hear someone heaving, pouring all their contents out in the toilet. Cynthia!

I throw the towel onto the counter and rush to her aide. When I get there, the door is wide open and I see Cynthia kneeling over the toilet bowl. Her body quivers as terrible dry heaves rack her body.

"Cynthia! Here, let me help you," I walk in and pull her hair away from her face. It reeks off bacon and eggs but I ain't put off in the slightest. I've experienced worse.

"Go away!" she splutters. 

"I'm not going anywhere Cynthia." I hold her hair as she wipes at her mouth. She doesn't push me away for which I'm relieved. When she done, she looks up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes. Wow.

"I'm sorry. So sorry," she's crying and I hold her to my chest as she sobs.

"Hush, I'm here. Why are you sorry?" we rock side-by-side as her sobs subside.

"Sorry for...this. I never meant to get you into trouble. I-I should never have accepted your offer but you were so kind and nice and.." she takes in a big gulp of air, trying to steady her breathing. I look quizzical.

"What do you mean? I don't get where you're coming from," she looks up at me guiltily and takes a big gulp of air as if she's about to reveal something big. Maybe she is. I'm going to find out.

"Harry, my-my mother's partner, he's not happy and he-" she can't seem to find the words and I rub her back as she reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. It's a phone. She hesitantly passes it over and  I look at it dumbly.

"Go into the inbox." she taps at the screen and I do so willingly. There's a lot of texts from some guy called Richard and a few from a lady called Miranda which I think is her mother. I click into the recent ones and I swallow as I read them. Holy fuck...who is this guy!? Silent tears begin to fall down her cheeks and she's shivering from pure fear. I clutch her harder in some pathetic effort to comfort her. She winces but only slightly so I loosen up.

"Who is this guy Cynthia? What the fuck is his problem!?" I look down into her beautiful hazel eyes. Her pupils are dilated and her lip is quivering. You poor thing...

"He's mum's partner. I ran away from him and he's going to try find me and I-I don't know what to do-" she's hysterical and I feel utterly helpless.

"Hush, it's okay. I won't let him near you, I promise. I won't let him hurt you," she snuggles her head into my neck and sniffs quietly to herself. She's surprisingly warm. It's nice.

"He will find me Harry, you don't know what he's all about. He knows people and he'll get them onto me, I just know it."

"What about your mother? Where's her part in this?"

"There's no point. She's just as bad and she's not my mother. I don't have anyone and I know she'll turn the whole family onto me or he'll make her. It's just what they do," she whispers and I can't help but feel an overpowering urge to protect her. This is horrible.

"Would it help if you talked to me? I mean, I don't wanna push you but it will make me understand this situation a whole lot better if you did," I whisper reassuringly. She smiles but it's a sad smile.

"I guess I owe you that much although I haven't talked to anyone. It's going to be..hard." 

I smile quietly to myself. The thought of her putting her trust into me is kinda exciting.

"Shall we get off this ground and get you cleaned up?" I let out a laugh despite the horrible situation and she can't help but let out a little giggle. It is a beautiful sound.

"Sure, that'd be a start," she releases herself from my grasp and stands up. We make our way to the bathroom. I see a blush start to creep up onto her cheeks. She looks away hurriedly.

"I'll let you do your thing. I'll be outside." she nods and sets about to brushing her teeth. I close the door behind me and quietly make my way outside. 


"Hey," I hear a quiet voice from behind me. Cynthia. I'm sprawled out on a sun-lounger with nothing but my jeans on. The sun beats down on my chest. I catch her glimpse and she blushes.

"Sit yourself down," I pat the sun-lounger beside me. She bites her lip as she sets herself down. Her hair is damp, probably from rinsing out the sick. She's changed out of her other clothes and has settled for some ragged jeans and a tight top, a size too small for her. I frown.

"Shall we begin?" her voice is a little too high and I can see that this is not her ideal topic of conversation. I nod encouragingly at her. She takes a deep breath before starting:

"I am an only child. My dad died in a logging accident when I was 4. He was our rock and supported us and made sure we had all that we needed. Mum and dad were happy back then and so was I. We were a happy family until he passed.

"Mum didn't take it too well and so she turned to drugs and alcohol for help. She was beside herself and the day he died was the day that I'd lost her. Gone was the happy, loving, vibrant mum. Instead, she was replaced with an abusive-"she's looking at me with the most saddest look that I've ever seen. I nod at her to carry on"-horrible mother. Through her constant drug use did she meet Richard.

"She'd been on and off with other guys but that was for the drugs. You see, she'd do anything for drugs, whether it be sex or the odd break-in but it was usually sexual.

"Richard is a grubby old guy with several tattoos. When he first met me, he didn't give a flying shit. I wasn't surprised. A lot of the guys that came over shrugged me off but I didn't care. They would do their business then leave but Richard..." a tear slides down her cheek and there's a quiver in her voice. I want to reach over and comfort her but I hold back. She may not want that or do. I'm confused. 

"..he was here to stay. Mum thought he was going to leave but no. He stayed and convinced mum to live with him. I don't know why but she did, the idiot. We moved in shortly after and that's when we began to see a different side of him.

"My mother was still there but just. He took that little bit away from me. He started to abuse her vocally and it wasn't long before it turned physical. She was constantly accused of being 'unfaithful' and a 'cheat' and she'd be called all these names, much too colorful to say. That's when she hit an all-time low and no matter what I said, she wouldn't listen. I kept telling her to leave but she refused. I knew she was much too scared and Richard had told her time and time again that if she so much as thought about it, he'd kill her.

"It wasn't until I was 12 that he'd turned his attention toward me. He started by calling me names and that I was 'useless' or 'ugly' and stuff like that. He'd bully me around and order me to do things which I had to do. If I didn't, he'd make me, some way or another. He started to hit me but when mum wasn't around. I think he was afraid that if she knew then maybe she'd leave him but I highly doubted that. She wasn't brave enough.

"I was constantly covered in bruises or cuts or some injury and he would refuse to send me to hospital. Mum never questioned me but I guess she figured. Shortly after, he pulled me out of school and kept me in the dark. I absolutely hated him and I hated that he took away the only thing that brought me comfort.

"I was 13 when he raped me. It was one night after they'd had a fight and he was so angry. I was in my room, going over my books when he came in. It was late and he was wanting something. I could see it in his eyes. I guess he wanted to let off some steam.

"He threw me onto the bed and started to strip me off my clothes. That's when he had his dirty little way with me.." Cynthia grimaces as she recalls that horrible memory. I'm on my side, leaning on my elbow as I gape at her. Reluctantly, she carries on.

"It became constant and usually when he was angry or mum wasn't around. I hated it. It was alien and disgusting and I was so mad that he took that away. After that, I was lost. The abuse was regular and I became used to it. 

"Sometimes I wish that if dad had of still been around then none of this would've happened. Sometimes I'd blame him but I know that that's silly. Sometimes I just want to end it all because I know that nothing can take away my pain," she's crying into her hands and I leap up and wrap her in my arms. Her eyelashes tickle my chest as she cries. I'm disgusted. No wait, appalled.

"Thank you for talking to me. I'm so sorry about what's happened. I had no idea. Maybe I can't take away your pain but I'll try," I'm choked up with emotion. She wraps her arms around me and I can feel her heart beat through the thin material of her shirt. I kiss her hair as we stand there in an intimate embrace.

"What made you change your mind? About talking to me?" I run a hand through her long brown hair. She sniffs.

"I don't know. I-I guess that there was anything to lose. I'm so used to being treated like shit and when you offered me a place I was hesitant at first. I mean, a good-looking person like you getting involved with the likes of me.." she pauses and her cheeks heat up. I smile.

"You were so nice and I was hesitant in riddling you with my problems but I was just hoping.." she trails off and we stand there for a little bit. I'm at lose of what to say. 

"Hey, I am here for you. I-I'm just really shocked to be honest. I've never been confided in like that so I thank you for doing so. I can't imagine what it must be like for you and don't worry about your problems, I'm just happy I was there," I tip her chin up. She is still beautiful even when she's crying. A little smile tugs at her lips. 

"I'm glad too Harry. Thank you so much. I can never repay you," she looks so vulnerable and without a moment's hesitation, I lean in to kiss her and she freezes. I let go immediately and she does the same.

"I'm so sorry. I-" I ruffle my hair about and stare at her nervously. 

"I thought I could confide in you but instead you wanna take advantage of me!? What are you!?" she yells and turns away, running back into the house.





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