Chapter 2

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My eyes flutter open and a soft groan escapes my lips as I feel myself starting to awake. In my own personal opinion, waking up is the very worst part of the day.

I throw off the blanket, still feeling too tired and manage to get myself out of bed with great difficulty, already dreading the day ahead, which has barely even started.

I stumble down the stairs as soon as I'm dressed up and ready to leave, the wooden steps creaking softly underneath my weight. My mother appears to already have left for work, so leaving the house without breakfast won't be much of an issue this morning. Generally, she will not let me go out of the door without having eaten breakfast, which can be quite infuriating at times.

I wrap my arms around myself as I walk down the deserted streets in the chilly morning. I silently curse myself for not bringing a jacket, but I didn't think it would be this cold. There aren't many people outside either, which in all honesty, I will not be complaining about. I never feel comfortable around people (never have). The same thing goes for being in public places and I'll avoid crowded areas as much as I can, despite my mother's protests. She always wanted for me to be confident and social, it just so happens that I am the exact opposite of who she wanted me to be. Yet I know that she loves me dearly.

I make my way into the forest, wanting to spend some time alone, surrounded by nothing but nature. I love to sit beneath the great trees in the forest. Sometimes I'd be reading a book for hours and at other times I'd be sketching for a bit, just enjoying the silence. Being in nature is the one thing in my life that makes me feel like I am truly free.

I freeze for a split second and scurry behind one of the many trees upon hearing the voice that belongs to Brett. Mentally I curse him for being here. My hands move to cover my mouth in shock when I hear the sound of a fist connecting with what I assume is someone's jaw. I hear someone fall down onto the ground with a thud, followed by a cry of pain, the leaves crushing beneath them. Then I hear sounds as if someone is being punched and/ or kicked repeatedly, screams of pain following after every blow, echoing throughout the forest.

"Come on, let's leave the fucker."

I don't dare make my presence known and stay hidden, hearing Brett and his friends leave. For a moment, I stay put where I am, not moving a muscle. Minutes feel like hours as I hold my breath, waiting just to be sure they've actually gone.

After a minute or two I slowly creep out from behind the tree I had been hiding behind. And I wouldn't be lying when I say that I instantly regret my decision of leaving my hiding spot. I look to see a person sitting on the ground, their head burried in their arms that are resting on top of their knees, which are pulled up to their chest. His hair is slightly messy from what I can tell and his jeans are covered in mud.

I just stand there, not knowing what to do in this particular situation. I had prepared myself to go and comfort the person and offer them my help, but now I am filled with doubts.

I don't take my eyes off him as I take small, but steady steps towards him. I cautiously glance around to take in my surroundings, expecting this to be some kind of trap.

"Harry.." I mutter his name, keeping my voice low and soft.

He lifts his head slowly, his eyes slightly widening upon seeing me.

I step back a little, expecting him to jump up and for his friends to surround me. Yet none of that happens. My heart instantly goes out to him the moment I see the tears glistening on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy from the crying. He does not move and not a single word comes out of his mouth. He looks down onto the ground and shifts uncomfortably. I can tell he clearly doesn't really want me here, he is most likely feeling too emberrassed to even move or speak. Yet, I refuse to leave.

I nervously sit down next to him, leaving a bit of space between us. I am very much aware that I am supposed to hate him, for he and his friends have been terrorizing me for a very long time. Though he has always been more of a bystander, that never made him any better from his friends, at least not in my opinion. I actually believe it makes him even worse. But despite that, I always feel the need to help a person who needs it. No matter who.

"Did Brett really do this to you?" I ask him hesitantly, not sure whether I should be speaking to him at all, or whether I should be believing any of this. It could still be just another trap they've wanted for me to walk into. It would not be the first time.

He stays silent, but slightly nods his head in response. He turns to face me and I can now see the bruise that is starting to form on his face, right
beneath his left eye. Neither of us moves as we continue to sit there in complete silence.

"Why would you care?" He asks me, not meeting my eyes. There is a numbness in his voice. The cold and uncaring tone sends a shiver down my spine.

"Because you are a person. A human being. No one, and I mean NO ONE should be treated this way. And I care because no one cares or gives a damn about me when I get beat up by you guy's! I know what it is like when no one cares! When you're alone!" The feeling of regret washes over me the instant that I see the sad look in his eyes and I look away, slightly ashamed at my sudden outburst. Despite knowing deep down I have no reason at all for feeling ashamed.

A sudden wave of anger surges throughout my whole body. How could anyone harm their own friend like this? I push my fingers into the dirt out rage. I'm almost about to jump up and follow after Brett when I feel a cold, yet soft hand on top of my own.

Turning my head in surprise, I see that Harry looking at me, silently pleading with me, "don't."

It's almost as if he knows what I was about to do, like he could read my mind. My eyes move down towards our hands and he instantly removes his hand from mine. And I cannot help but to admit that I miss his warmth, now that the cold wind is scraping against my skin like a razor blade.

We both stand up awkwardly and he is about to walk away, but I grab a hold of his wrist, preventing him from doing so. "Why do you let them treat you this way?"

After a short pause he says, "I could ask you the same thing."

I ignore the remark, not even able to think of an answer that would actually make sense in some way. So instead, I continue to wait for him to give me a response. He seems to get the point and whispers so softly that I can barely even make out as to what he is saying, "they are my friends."

That is all he says. It makes me feel like he is so used to being treated this way where it's gotten to the point where he's trying to find excuses for their behaviour towards him.

"Are they?" I question, raising a brow and letting go of his wrist, which I didn't even realize I was still holding onto. "A friend wouldn't do this."

"They have always been there for me, I can't just walk away." He raises his voice a bit and I can clearly tell, since he is not even bothering to hide it, that he is getting annoyed with me and my presence.

I struggle to surpress a laugh. I could never imagine Brett being kind or being there for anyone. The thought alone is so ridiculous to me that it is almost funny. Almost. I sigh softly, "sometimes walking away is the best and only option you have."

His eyes connect with mine and his lips part slightly as if he wants to say something, but decides against it anyways. He turns his back to me and walks off with a slight limp, without saying a word, leaving me behind. I stay sill for a moment, watching him dissapear into the thick trees and out of sight. Sighing in defeat, I continue on my way to the beach.

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