Dear Diary - Harry Styles -

My scars aren't visible to human eye. It's something only I can see. My battles aren't with people around me, but within me as we speak. Insecurities thrashing and whipping me left and right. Someone save me - Destinee Greene


2. Chapter 1: Shattered Glass

Destinee placed her bag on her bed, letting the overflowing contents slide from the opening on the top. She reached down and sorted every book into it's rightful spot in the average sized bag that she used every so often. As she straightened the last book, she noticed something missing. 

Her mind started a panic attack as her mind tried to register where she had last put it. The small book that was so easily ripped and worn was now somewhere out there in the civilization of her home town. She sat on the edge of her bed, gathering every thought and memory of where she had been prior to this exact moment. No thoughts came to mind as she racked her brain for them; it was useless. 

A shaky breath left her mouth as she stood to her feet. The thought of never seeing her precious book again frightened her. Not only that, but the absolute horrid thought of someone finding it was even worse. It had her name in it and everything, they would know who she was. 

Destinee felt her chest tighten from the stress she was receiving from her current situation. She quietly grabbed a piece of paper out along with a pen; she needed to get her feelings out on paper. She needed to do it now. 



Dear Substitute Diary, 

Yes, I call you my substitute diary. There is no possible way of saying this without making my own self sound just as guilty as my environment. But, I have misplaced my real diary. 

I'm not the best example of a clean lifestyle, as you can see, and obviously it's taken a turn for the worse. My disorganized life might as well end if someone were to lay a finger on that precious book. My secrets, my promises, my words, and thoughts, that's what someone could find. And trust me, it is more than beyond personal. 

When I had first written in my book, I had mentioned someone reading it. But, how am I supposed to know that fate would take my words to heart?! I must set boundaries on how far my suggestions can go. For, that was completely uncalled for. 


Destinee Greene 


Harry settled down on the leather fabric of the couch. It had been a while since he had sat on this couch in particular. The boys had let him be for a few hours and were due back at the hotel in a matter of minutes. Unless they had taken a long way back, which in fact did not exist, then he would expect them in about an hour or so. But, his inbox was empty and so was the hotel room, so, until her received further notice he was going to do as he pleased. 

Harry's thoughts settled on the diary he had found. Was it wrong to have looked through it? Maybe it was a bit rude of him, but, he couldn't have asked. In fact, it was basically screaming 'read me' as it sat on the rusty old bench. 

'Doesn't make me any less innocent.' he thought to himself. 'It's a complete invasion of privacy.' 

In fact, Harry could think of various things that made what he had done a completely rude action. The biggest reason would be that if he himself had a diary of his own he definitely would not want someone reading through it as if it was the Diary of Anne Frank. He would rather have his hair shaved off and never grow back than let someone know his secrets and thoughts on life. 

But, something about that Diary was so intriguing. It was so fascinating, and the fact that he wasn't supposed to read it made it all the more better. It brought a sense of danger to his mind, making the task more secret, his very own secret. 

At the thought of it being a secret, Harry quickly did a full scan of the room. Although he was fully aware that no one was here, he mustn't risk someone seeing the handwritten pages. Slowly, yet confidently, he reopened the book he had found no longer than a day ago. 


Dear Diary, 

Worthless. Pitiful. Meaningless. Three words that could easily kill the heart and soul. I wonder if people realize the strength and power of such "playful" words. My own mind has been tortured with words like these, and it was more than enough to send me over the edge. 

Judgement. Another thing people have yet to take into full thought. No one realizes the strength of words, they think someone can only be physically hurt. It's just not possible to be hurt emotionally, even if we have proof. I feel bad for people who are well known. No one realizes how much pain they are in, and how much they go through. I can safely say, I do. 

People know me in school, I am one of those girls so many people talk to. But, even my old friends have noticed my self-esteem issues. Words kill me slowly and tortuously through the mind until I am nothing but a empty shell. 

They have undoubtedly noticed how each year my smile becomes even more fake, and my face thinner than before. It's all falling into place, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. It's coming to the point where I feel almost numb, as if what people say just go right through me because there is no more glass to break in my fragile body, it's all shattered. My soul has been violently bashed and stabbed, and now even the once sturdy shell is breaking. 

Have you ever had that feeling? Of course you haven't, you're nothing more than a pile of pages that I write on! 

But, I remember the fact that you were once alive too. You were probably a fruitful tree that a person once used as a shade while he read his book. Or maybe while he did his own work. You may have been a home to an owl, or a few squirrels. You're leaves were as green as Iceland, and you're branches as sturdy as Mt. Everest. You were a magnificent tree that a child used to climb on. Until, that one fateful day you were cut down. You're leaves were torn from you, and your once sturdy branches used as nothing more than a source for warmth. Now, you have been cut to thin pieces. So this is where I come into the picture and use you for my own selfish needs. 

We forget that these pieces of paper we use daily once used to be fruitful, magnificent, and beautiful trees. We take you as nothing more than a useless thing we have work on. 

We judge and assume. We assume that you don't even matter even though you are one of the many reasons we live on the planet still. We judge everything in our sights and assume from what we see. It kills people, it really does. 

It can kill someone and hurt them and make them fight until they can do that no longer. The ones that were once judged become nothing more than pieces of paper that people label and write all over. We climb all over them, stomp on them, and even though they are still standing, we know that we have killed the soul within. It's what makes our civilization and society today. We might as well be zombies eating each other physically because we already beat each other up emotionally and kill spiritually. Might as well have us eat ourselves as well. 

This life is useless without a soul, and it's starting to make sense. People are nothing more than what they spurt. If you judge a book, you might as well judge yourself. It's all your really doing. But, if you aren't being judged then you really don't care. No one cares to help us, it's as if we are just simply nonexistent. 

Why can't we all just live in harmony, Diary? It would be so much easier on some of us. Our society is killing teenagers and it's not healthy. Next thing you know, the invisible will all be dead. 




Harry read each word carefully, it made partial sense to him. It was a confusing thing to read, he had no idea what she was talking about. Then again, he probably did. The words 'judge' and 'assume' caught his eye, making the entry easier to comprehend. 

He knew what it was like to be labeled, and to be thrown around with words. It truly hurt, and there was nothing he could do about it. It really did hurt to be called the things he was called, and obviously he wasn't the only one suffering. Destinee knew how it felt, and she had been sent over the edge. 

For once, he knew he wasn't alone. Harry knew that this girl was like him in some ways, he could just tell by the way she wrote. Judgement hurts, and both of them were a victim of the effortless crime. 

'It's coming to the point where I feel almost numb, as if what people say just go right through me because there is no more glass to break in my fragile body, it's all shattered. My soul has been violently bashed and stabbed, and now even the once sturdy shell is breaking. ' These words held more meaning than he could imagine. 

Her soul was already dead, and now her shell was slowly decaying and dying as well. With the thought in his head, he knew he had to help her. Even if it was just through a few simple words, he wanted to help. Even if it wasn't personally, he needed to help. 

Harry knew he couldn't stand around and watch this happen anymore. He needed to take action. He wanted to show he cared.

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