You Sunshine, You Temptress (l.s)

Mind Of Mine

Chapter 11

Harry

I was already wide awake by the time my mum came to wake me for school. The sound of the doorknob rattling made me flinch, but I remembered that I locked it before going to bed last night. 

I stare at the wall, my torn blanket wrapped around my slumped shoulders. My eyes feel sore from my cries, but nowhere near as sore as my freshly cut wrists. 

"Harry? Harry are you up?" my mother calls through the wood, but I can't find it in me to speak. The words repeatedly hitching in my dry, raw throat. She shakes the knob once again, this time more frantically. 

"Harry, I know you're in there. Please open the door" I hear the sound of my mother resting her forehead against the cold wood, desperate to get through to me. I want to speak. I want to tell her that I'm up and that I'll be ready in a minute, anything to ease her restless mind...but I can't. 

"Harry...just get ready, okay? I'll meet you in the car" are the last words she speaks before retreating down the hallway. 

I continue staring at the wall for god knows how long. The night before replays in my mind endlessly, nearly driving me to tears each and every time the first cut comes on a loop. I thought it'd help, I thought it'd reward me with some emotional release, anything to help the pain. But in my search for easing the anguish in my mind, I robbed myself of all emotion. And there's no one to blame but myself. 

These thoughts become too much for me. The self-hatred mixed with the regret is washing over everything, nearly suffocating me. I quickly jump out of bed, desperate to escape this mind of mine. Looking around the dim room, the only light coming from the rising sun reflecting on the window. I search for something. Anything to help me, anything to distract me. My search was in vain. 

I throw on the nearest clothes I can find, which is a pair of joggers and a baby blue sweater. Walking into the bathroom was the hardest part. I look over to the spot that I laid in a mere 11 hours ago. I can't be here right now. I quickly splash some water on my face, brush my teeth, and rush back out into the hallway, never once fueling my insecurities by looking in the mirror. 

I slip on my familiar shoes and throw on my bag. For a moment, I contemplated grabbing a banana, but decided against it. I drag my feet towards the door. My mother was already in the car, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She didn't see me approach the car, and only lifted her head when she heard me get in, slamming the door behind me. 

"Ready, love?" She whispers. 

"Ready" I respond, my throat still raw.

We drive down the road, my mum looking over to me every few minutes but I don't acknowledge it. The clouds were slowly parting, revealing the purplish sky with a hint of blue and pink behind it. 

"I was thinking you could go hang out with Niall after school? I'm working late again and it'd be good for you to go have fun. You guys could go get tacos!" She exclaims, expecting to get any sort of response. From the corner of my eye, I see the way her smile slowly dissipates from my lack of engagement, but there's nothing I can do. 

"Yeah mum...that'll be great" I tried to add a little enthusiasm behind my voice but per usual, I failed. 

"Harry, what's going on with you?" She questions, her voice a lot softer than usual. 

"Nothing mum, just a little tired." That excuse always seems to work, but not this time. 

"I'm not dumb Harry, You aren't acting like yourself" For reasons that I don't understand, this bothers me. Myself? I'm not acting like myself? How does she even know what "myself"truly is?