Bound by Pages | larry

twenty

Harry woke up on the hard floor of his bedroom. As he tried to move his body, his back ached from the awkward position he had fallen asleep in. It felt like he had been there for days, but a simple look at his phone told him it had only been a few hours. 

It took him a while to remember how he ended up on the floor in the first place. He hadn't been so tired that he passed out, or been curled up reading on the carpet like he loves to do. The hint came from the slight tingle in his hand and the puffiness of his eyes. When the day came back to Harry, he wished it hadn't.

He blew a puff of air out and stood up, making his way to his bed in an awkward sore-jointed-walk. Harry crawled into bed again and rest his head on his pillow. He kind of just laid there with his eyes open looking towards the wall. He wasn't going to fall asleep, no, he wasn't tired. He just wanted to lay there and let his thoughts travel for once. He was usually such an overthinker, a dreamer they call it. Now, he wasn't dreaming of anything. His thoughts were wandering into an abyss and he didn't feel like they could ever be interrupte-

"Harry!" A deep voice yelled loudly from below. Harry groaned, suddenly snapped out of his abyss. He tried to wrap his head with his pillow, but the voice called again.

"Harry! Come down here right now please!" This time it was his mother. It wasn't the voice that gave it away, well it was, but the wording was even clearer. In no world would his father say 'please' to him.

Harry stumbled heavily out of bed. He was a pretty lanky boy, but his limbs felt so weighed down at that moment. The amount of dread he was feeling was insurmountable. He thought after the events of this morning, they would leave him alone for at least a day. Apparently, he was wrong. 

He stepped lazily down the stairs. Harry froze at the bottom of the steps. He hadn't tripped or even grazed the bottom step. That fact almost made him cry. First Liam, then Louis, now this? It was like his whole routine was completely gone like his whole life was out of tune. And that almost made him start bawling at the bottom of the steps.

Before that could happen, his father stormed quickly towards him with a beige envelope in his hand. He flicked his wrist and the envelope came crashing down before smacking the floor with an audible sound.

Harry flinched subconsciously before his mouth fell slightly. "Is that..?"

"Yes Harry, that is your report card," his father spoke sternly.

"How did you get that?"

"Simple," his father chuckled softly, "I asked politely."

"I thought..." Harry opened his mouth and shut it a few times before speaking again. "I thought they weren't allowed to give that to parents until tomorrow."

"Talk normally son, I didn't raise a fish, did I?"

"But.. how?" Harry looked at the envelope, still flabbergasted. 

"I didn't go to them as a parent," His father sneered, "I went to them as one of their top donors."

"But... you're not?" Harry was too shocked to form a coherent sentence. His father wouldn't even buy him fast food on a good day. There was no way he was generous enough to give anything to the school. His father absolutely hated the public school system.

"Ha, you should've seen their faces, they have so many donors, do you think they can keep track? As soon as I even mentioned the money they were all like, 'oh sir, do you need anything, sir?' It was great, I should do it more often." The man had a look on his face, a crazy manipulative face that scared Harry's very core. 

Harry tried to snap his gaze off of his father's face, but it landed on the envelope. He had obviously brought it for a reason, called him down for a reason. Harry felt so anxious, his chest felt like it a knob turned fifty times past its limit. He looked back at his father's face, which was smiling.