Broken Hearts, Shattered Goodbyes

She's been friends with him for a while now... It's 12th grade. Last year.
She cant decide whether she wants to let him go onto the X Factor, she knows it could change both of their lives. Sure, she wants to be a singer too. She wants to be known for something.
But she doesnt like singing in front of people.
Harry begs her to go on with him, but she wont... She cant... Can she?
(One Direction Unfamous, then famous.)


4. Thank God It's The Last Day!! Part three

I let him type the first message. After about two minutes, a message popped onto the dusty DSI screen. With the name HazzaBoo:)

Harry: Hey, this is a better way to talk to each other.

It took him so long to write it because he took his time to type it perfectly, instead of taking the stylus and writing. I quickly moved my thumbs over the buttons, signaling the letters to type onto the screen and sent my message.

Me: Yeah, way better. So, are you nervous about today? Last day. Gonna do something like punch a teacher?

Harry: Uh-huh. Mr. Bows. And I'm sure you'll push the gym teacher into the pool. The deep end?

Me: Noooooo... I would never do that! Harry, I thought you knew me!

Harry: Haha :) So, is that true?

Me: Yeah. I'm thinking about it. Seriously thinking about it.

Harry: Colleges and job givers will look at it and see you did it.. That you have an attitude. You sure? ;)

Me: Completely.

And we sat there, talking back and forth. We joked about how we would harm each teacher, or do something for people to remember us by. Truthfully, Harry will be remembered no matter what he does. He'll become a famous singer. I'll be the dust he kicks back to fulfill his dreams. I hope not, but, let's be honest here, how many times do celebrities get seen with their highschool friends? Hardly ever.

Then a new message popped into my screen. It seemed to make me happy, but I wasn't sure if it was true.

Harry: I know the reason you don't want me to go on the X Factor is because you think I'll become famous. I know you, you think I would forget about you... I would never. And this bracelet I have from you, it's away from the others for a reason. It's special. And I know it is. I never take it off unless I need to. Like, showers or something. Or swimming. Anything that will hurt it. I would never hurt you, or forget about you. I'm just telling you so you know. I know it would be a topic for later on if we didn't discuss it now.

The long paragraph message was sent through three different slides, I let him finish before I wrote back.

Me: Harry, I know. I wasn't worried.

Harry: Are you sure..? I know you.. A lot better than you think.

Me: Yeah, I was worried, but I know you a lot better than you know. I know you'd never forget me. But, I need to get ready some more for school, so, can we wait to be face to face to talk about this? Pleaseeee??? =)

Harry: Of course. And, pack your bags, you're spending the night at my house tonight. Help me pick out my outfit for tomorrow. Okay?

Me: Sounds great.

There was a little flash, then the name HazzaBoo:) popped off of my screen, leaving me with no people or contacts to chat with. I shut my DSI off and set it on the shelf, holding my hands to my face, trying not to cry. I don't want to cry.

Harry is sweet, and I know he's just trying to make me feel better. I feel like I wont be able to stop his famousness or his forgetfulness if he does become famous. Sometimes fate takes more than it should. Even a best friend.

I brace myself and stand to my feet. I really don't need to get ready. I just had to get off so I didn't cry if he sent any more messages like that. I mean, it was three slides of pure heart and soul. He's always been a sweet, gentle guy around me. Others tell me he's trouble and that I should stay away, and they could be right for all I know, but it doesn't change a thing for me. I've become so friendly towards my curly friend that I wouldn't be able to stop it now. Those people don't know anything their talking about.

The only thing that wouldn't go so smoothly is asking my parents--no-- telling my parents that I would be going over to Harry's house for the night. They don't approve of our friendship most of the time either, but I really cant see me and him as more than friends. Nothing more than friends. And as many times as I've stressed that to my parents, they still don't believe me when I tell them.


I knocked so lightly on my parents bedroom door, I almost thought it wasn't enough. I lifted my hand again to knock, but I was met with my mother's sleepy frame. She wiped some hair from her face, and looked at me, expecting me to tell her why I'd woken her up. There was only one reason, it was time for her medicine and time for her and dad to get up anyways.

"Mum, it's time." I say, and without another word, she understands. She shuts the door and probably wakes up my father. I waited by the door until I heard footsteps, telling me she hadn't gone back to sleep. I rushed to the kitchen, grabbing her pills off the counter, and grabbing a water from the fridge. I twist the safety top off the medicine, a trick to keeping kids out of it, and took out a rather large pink and blue pill. It was for her illness. She'd been like this for long... Since I can remember. It's depression medicine. Extra strength depression medicine.
Things go wrong for her life, she takes it out on people. People that are close to her...
I let a tear slide down my cheek, remembering the first time she'd ever hit me. My dad yells at her telling her the only reason he stays is to keep me and Jay safe... From our own mother. She'd wanted kids so desperately, and now she doesn't even enjoy our company enough to even sit in the same room with us. Hardly ever. If we're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, reading.
I slice my thoughts short, hearing a common fight between my parents. I don't even raise my eyes to them as they both walk into the kitchen.

"You might's well leave if you feel like this, babe." The tone from my mother was harsh, her words were fake. She and my father hadn't loved each other since we were born... I handed the pill over to my mum, who took the water and swallowed it, returning to combat against my father after it. I swallowed and decided now wasn't the best time to tell her about Harry's house. I put the water back into the fridge and put the container of pills back onto the counter by the fridge. I only lift my gaze when I see Jay stalking into the kitchen. I see his grey-blue eyes scan the room, processing the situation, then after a couple seconds, he leaves. He knows. I follow him out of the door, and instead of talking to him, go back into my room.

I'm in my room so much... I don't think it would be normal for me to be anywhere else. I never sit in the living room to watch tv, I only sit in the living room to do homework. But, that's rare itself. I'm usually in my room, cranking the music overtop of my parent's fights. Of course this is a normal thing here, I've only ever told one person: Harry. He knows all of my secrets, including my crush. I only tell him my secrets, he's the only one who I can trust. Only one who really cares.

I blast the music now that everyone is awake, letting a Ke$ha song take the harm from my parents' fighting away. I went into the bathroom, straightening my brown hair. My hair runs down my back in an effortless style. Comparing it to some other people's hair, it looked better, more healthy. I have a regular thing with colouring my hair. There is always a bright or neon statement colour in my hair. Always.

Harry says it looks kind of girlie, but he's only being honest, and I take his advice under consideration. Of course, it wont change my colouring habits. I have tons of colour bottles sitting on my shelf. A pink, red, green, blue, orange, and even a dark shade of black. Now, black isn't normal, but the shades of purple highlights in my hair right now was. But, I needed more. Forget about straightening my hair for the moment. More colour. More vibrancy. I need to stick out today. Which is why I take the blue and red colours and apply some into my hair. Red as lowlights and blue like the purple, running alongside it like they were too afraid of being apart. I'd only taken up this habit because of my parents. I needed something to do, and cutting myself is NOT an option. Sure, things are bad enough for it, but I would never. It would hurt Harry, it would hurt me. It could kill me. And if Harry ever caught wind that I'd started to cut myself, he'd lecture me non-stop, kiss the cuts and scars, tell me it was fine. Tell me that he was there the whole time, he'd never leave my side. If it ever happened, he would tell me to talk to him next time, not to let it get so far. I know him so well that I have his exact words in my head. Where they'll always stay.

I bend over the bathtub, turning on the water and tipping my long hair over, washing the extra colour out. I looked down the drain of my pink-tinted bathtub and saw the colours of red and blue and a tip of purple brush down the smooth surface until it reached the drain and fell out. I'm guessing I didn't do so well with the purple hair dye job, I know this because if it was a good job, I wouldn't be seeing purple rush down the drain. It was only 6:40 now, and I had to leave by 7:20 at the absolute latest time. My plans are to be out by 7:10. Probably not going to happen.

I blow dried my hair, and turned the radio off. I looked at my low-back length brown hair with the colours flowing so freely in it, and smiled. I knew some people would be staring at me. I like that fact. I like being different, me and Harry both. He knows the reasons behind my vibrant colours. He knows it's my only stress-relief. The smell of the dyes, and the way it makes you look afterwards, it just calms me. To the point where I forget about everything. Maybe it's just the hair-dye getting into my head, but I don't care. It helps. And it's better than other coping skills. Which, I don't need to posess.

As soon as I was finished blow-drying my hair, I ran the straightener through it. My hair was layered in a way that it fell to a point down my back. I didn't just let it grow straight down my back, that looks unhealthy. I cut it to a way it looks like a perfect point. The way models do their long hair. I've always been compared to people like models, but I don't see why. My face was ugly, acne in a few locations. Then again, teens cant control their acne problems, and other people get much worse then dots scattered in a few places. My eyes are a horrifying shade of blue, much different than my parents, or Jay's. People tell me my eyes look almost white, and plain old white is just boring. Yeah, underneath the cupboards in my bathroom, I'm sure I have white colour somewhere. People pay me to do their hair, and that's how I make my money.

I slept over at Harry's house one time when we were maybe two years younger, and once he fell asleep, I took out the hair dye. I had a travel-sized blue in my duffel-bag, and I put a strip through his gorgeous curls. I thought it would make him mad at me, make him put up a bit of a joke fight, but he actually enjoyed it. He thanked me...

I finish straightening my hair, and swipe at a few dots of red and blue on my tanktop. The one that was overtop of the yellow one. I was not happy about it, but you really couldn't tell, my clothes being bright and different enough.

I walked out of my room, making sure everything was off before I left for school. I was always the last to leave the house. My mum always going to therapy sessions in the morning and my dad rushing off to his job. Jay leaves for school early, having to pick up his girlfriend before he goes. Cara is his girlfriend, and they make one of the most perfect couples. He didn't like her at first but now they've been together for almost three years and I'm pretty sure he plans on being this way for the rest of his life. She would be Cara Greene soon enough.


I walked down the stairs, locking the door behind me, making sure the spare key was still underneath the welcome mat. I was. I took off down the sidewalk until I reached Harry's house. I admired the blue and white of the house, looking up at the windows. He's always the last one to leave too. I take a deep breath and bounce up the steps, seeing a note on the door. I pick it up, instantly seeing my name written in Harr's handwriting. I read it.

I'm sure you're gonna get this when you come to my house for the bus. Come right inside. I'm gonna need some help getting ready. xx Harry

I smiled at hopped up the rest of the steps. I opened the bright blue door and took my shoes off instantly.

*will finish later I swear.**

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