finally updated again !! like and comment it would mean the world to me :) what are your opinions on this town by niall ? XX
" what's your camp like?" harry asks nothing but curiosity in his deep voice. Shrugging i think back to the run down place i call home. My mum and dad died together on raid when i was seventeen so i kind of cut everyone out and kept to myself but my duties were like a routine but i made sure they were all alive and well.
"erm its small, the rest of camp never really bothered with me when i grew up because of how cruel my farther was and they didn't bother when i took over either except Zac. He was always there for me and looked past the bad things and understood me i think i miss him the most." i briefly say not wanting to go into detail and talking abut it just reminds me that I'm not there and that I'm here against my will. His eyes seem to narrow as i mention Zac and I'm surprised his eyebrow don't elevate off his head.
"Zac? Boyfriend or something?" and i sense a bit of bitterness when he speaks. Is he jealous? Letting a smirk arise i pucker my lips pretending to be in la la land. After a few seconds of me not responding he clears his throat retracting my attention to him clearly noticing the frustration.
"we did date through my teen years but no he's my best friend the only person i ever let in throughout my life." his posture seems to relax at this and i cant help the small giggle that bubble through. It goes silent as I'm practically in shock , i don't giggle. Quickly recovering he's the one now with a smirk and i feel my cheeks turn a crimson colour. Attempting to avert the attention from me i notice a notebook lying open on the desk. Following my line off vision he quickly bolts up closing it keeping it by his side. Curiosity gets the best of me as i nearly jump on him tackling him to get the book. Five minutes of tug and war I'm left panting while he looks composed. Stupid muscles.
"what in it."i ask eyeing the pages. Looking hesitant he opens his mouth only to close it a second later wordlessly handing me the brown leather book that could be classed as a journal. Marked on the front with a marker are the words 'the idea of perfect isn't reality and reality isn't perfect' delicately opening the leather the first page is scripted with messy handwriting but yet the words seem to stand out.
'you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have left
When something bad happens you have three choices :let it define you , let it strengthen you or let it weaken you , it up to you'