Fighting For You

''I needed her. Desperately. I needed to feel her soft skin against mine, hearing her angelic voice, nuzzling my nose in her hair, feeling her smell. She was like poison to my veins, burning every nerve inside me. She could knock me to the weakest point by only giving me one simple look. I was so madly in love with her it wasn’t even healthy. She was the one I always had in my mind before dazzling of to sleep at night. She was the reason I got F on my assessments. She was dangerous. Dangerous to fall in love with''.
Just so you know: This movella contains Mature Content.

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5. 5. Sticks And Stones

 

HARRY'S POV

 

Have you ever been told that sticks and stones can’t break your bones? I can tell you that’s a big, fat, lie. And doesn’t it feel sad when that special someone in your life just stands you up? Well, I’m numb. So fucking numb. So fucking torn. I can’t feel anything but anger and that special something that stabs my already assaulted stomach and drowned feelings. Feelings drowned in pain; drowned in those dark memories no one should ever have experienced. But I had. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t supposed that she would’ve given me the cheek and then leave. It wasn’t supposed that everything would be like this. Or was it? I can’t give you the answer because I don’t have it. I don’t have anything. I never had, and never will.

My fist hit the rock hard cement as I saw how blood started to run down the blue paper hangings in the hallway. I gritted my teeth when I felt the throbbing pain in my red knuckles as I swore quietly to myself. I bit my lower lip so hard the sore wound burst and soon I could feel the sweet taste of blood invading my taste buds. I looked at my fist, at my broken knuckles. I stretched my fingers out and felt the sharp pain shoot through my body. But luckily, no bones were broken. And it doesn’t really matter, I thought. As many times my life had been torn apart, shattered on the floor like glass splitter since I’ve been that little brave kid that thought he was so cool because he could juggle. No one had really cared about that boy. The boy who was me. In fact, no one had ever cared about me. I was used to be alone and went along with that. I lived with my mum who always told me she wished I were never born and my step-dad that said I was a stuck-up ass. I had my sister too, but she was struggling to fight her life back from her fucking cancer that no one fucking deserves to have but everything is so fucking unfair in this world I don’t even want to breathe anymore.

Then she came, like an angel sent from above and totally ruined my life with her love and passion no girl had ever given me before; Quinn. Quinn Adams. And I cannot understand how and why everything turned out so bad so quickly. I said we would fight for our love and everything seemed to be alright. Then I get jumped in the middle of the night and now the day after everything turns upside-down with literally everything. It was confusing. Everything happened too quickly. Like a freaking rollercoaster with too many loops I would say.

I know I was a coward who couldn’t face Quinn the fact that her older brother had bothered me very bad. Making me look as if I had been participating in the Second World War. But I couldn’t tell her. It would be better if she didn’t know. Even if I knew I was tucking her in a shoe box of lies and secrets. But hey, that’s exactly how I’ve grown up. Lies and secrets, all the way around.

 

***

 

I wake up from the alarm buzzing. I groan as I swing my hand on the clock, making it shut up. I rub my eyes before slowly sitting up, yawning. The clock is 9.45 and it’s Monday morning. I realize I’ve missed the first period; math. It didn’t bother me though. I used to skip classes and I had never understand why we should learn about numbers and shit like that when there’s calculators. We are not living in the Stone Age anymore. My brain just wasn’t made for counting. The teachers didn’t really cared about me skipping almost every class either. Because like I mentioned before, no one gave a shit. They didn’t know my background or that I would probably fail my last year. I didn’t really cared about it either to be honest. Maybe I was soon going to be that failed drop out everyone was talking about, just  like last year.

There was a boy who was one year older than me, named Zayn. Zayn Malik. He was that kind of drop out everyone had been talking about. No one had really known him well. He was quiet and didn’t make much noise. Not in school at least. He had dark eyes with a strong jaw line and marked cheekbones. His hair was black and greased in an upstanding quiff with a blonde strand in it. He was actually somewhat handsome if you asked the girls. Like a model. He had that bad boy look, you know. At breaks he used to smoke at the parking lot, standing there all alone and mysterious by himself. His smooth skin used to glisten in the sunlight as he puffed on those cigarettes. I guess we were quite alike each other. We didn’t say much and no one did really liked us. Everyone saw us like the bad ones and–I don’t understand why- handsome. The teachers didn’t really appreciate us. Other adults thought we only caused problems by only breathing. We were marked as troublemakers.

 Then one day, Zayn was gone. Rumours said he’d quit school. For once the rumours were true. The teachers had told us later. No one had ever known where he ended up, but not in this town I can tell you. And now Zayn Malik is a thing of the past. No one cared about him. But they talked about him, which had never made sense to me. I mean, why talk about people you don’t even care about?

Zayn, didn’t have anyone. I don’t know how he had it at home but he seemed to be so lonely under his hard and rough surface. I didn’t really have anyone either, except for Quinn. Or had. I don’t know where we are standing now actually, and it hurts as hell. I’d let her slip out of my hand, my warm embrace I’d offered her like she did to me when those rather shitty days had arrived in my life. 

I fisted my hands in the white silky sheets as I sat up in my bed. My body was tensed. And then I knew; I was going to win her back. I was going to fight for her, like never before.

 

***

 

I showered and got dressed in my favourite t-shirt; the one I got from Quinn. The one with Ramones. I put on my skinny tight black jeans and flipped my curls like I always use to do. But when I took a look in the mirror I froze. Fuck. I couldn’t show off to school like that. Never. My arms were covered with yellow and blue bruises from that awful night only two days ago. I had to wear something with long sleeves so I decided it would be my black sweater. I took off the plaster that covered half of my jaw and sighed in relief. It didn’t look so bad. Thank God for that.

When I leaved my room and was about to grab my backpack, I heard someone chuckle behind me. I turned around and saw my step-dad standing there. He was drunk, like always. I stiffened.

‘’Gonna fuck some broads, Haz?’’ He asked as he laughed. I stared at him blankly. His t-shirt was excessively small and showed off half of his hairy globe to stomach. He had a firm grip of a beer in his hand.

‘’No, I’m going to a place called school.’’ I muttered and swung my backpack over my shoulder.

‘’Wow, I thought you’ve dropped out already. Cuz, you know…to have your way with…uhm, the whores.’’ He slurred. ‘’Like the way I have with your mum, you know. What a screamer.’’ His face turned into a big grin as he showed off his yellow smile I disliked so much. I turned around and slammed the door in his face. I didn’t want to stay there any longer, to listen about his theory about me being a man-whore and not worth living thing nor explaining his sex life about my mother like he always used to do when he was drunk. And about me being a man-whore, I can tell you the tragic truth that I have taken some girls from around here to the bed just to satisfy their needs but I have never felt something. No one had stayed with me. It was just a fuck and that’s it. You will probably not believe me either when I tell you that I had never laid my hands on Quinn in that way.

 

***

 

When I drove my car as my ears enjoyed some new tracks, I realized what an idiot I’d been. For the first, why hadn’t I taken my own car to Quinn’s house that night only two days ago? Then I’d never been jumped and everything had been a lot easier. And for the second; love makes you blind right? You don’t think about the consequences and just do everything that seems to be right in that moment, so I guess I can blame love for not taking my car to Quinn. A bit at least. 

Quinn and I didn’t have the same classes because she was two years younger than me. I thanked God for that right now, because if we had been having it together, I swear I had been so distracted I had thrown a pencil at my teacher or biting on my nails so hard I would not be able to write later. I jumped out from my car and locked it. I turned around to face the old brick building, my school. Everyone was inside, learning like normal teenagers. But I wasn’t normal. My life was a fucking mess. And I had decided to clean it up, piece by piece. Or like my grandmother used to say; after the rain comes sunshine.

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