Please, Just Leave Me To Die *Narry Storan*

5

Sorry in advance!

Harry’s POV

I continued my walk home, stopping outside the music store to look at the guitars which stood proudly in the window. I knew that I’d never be able to afford one; I barely had enough money for necessities, so how could I afford a three hundred pound guitar?

I pried my eyes away from the beautiful wooden instruments and turned the corner to walk down my street, dragging my feet along the pavement. I really didn’t want to go ‘home’.

I pulled my now heavy feet up the porch steps and turned the door handle. I breathed out heavily in anticipation before slowly entering the house, trying to be as silent as possible. I wanted nothing more than to just go straight up to my room unnoticed and sleep. I knew that would never happen though. I’d at least get a slap before he passes out from all of the alcohol.

“Faggot, you home?” My uncle slurred from the other room as I shut the front door behind me.

“Y-yes sir” I stuttered in fear.

“Good”

I heard a smash of a bear bottle and footsteps coming towards the hall. I dropped my bag in terror and my body shook in fear. Why couldn’t I just man up and stand up to him? Both my uncle and I knew that I’d never have the guts to do that though.

“Come here faggot” he growled as he entered the hall.

I slowly stepped forward towards the man who I call family. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and skin even though I was stood a couple of meters away from him. He disgusted me.

His greasy brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. He probably hadn’t showered or washed in days, the stench of alcohol overpowered the sweat though. I was quite thankful for that, no doubt I’d get punished for emptying my stomach onto his carpet due to the smell.

“Yes sir?” I asked timidly as I stood a mere half a foot away from him.

“This is your entire fault!” He screamed in my face, droplets of his spit hitting my pale cheek. I didn’t dare wipe it off though, so I just stood there. Being screeched at even though I didn’t know what I did wrong.

“Sorry Sir” I kept my head bowed down.

“And so you should be” he muttered aggressively.

Just as I thought that I’d managed to get off Scott free, he grabbed a fistful of my curls and dragged me up the old, damaged stairs.

He forcefully dragged me into his bedroom, the stench of the unknown knocked me sick. It smelt of a mixture of damp, dust, sweat, alcohol and sex. I didn’t even want to think about what the various colours of stains were which were on the once white sheets.

“Don’t even think about screaming for help faggot”

I gulped as I allowed him to throw me onto the bed, my head just centimetres from smashing against the broken bed board.

I had a feeling in my gut about what was going to happen to me, I just wished and cursed to God that my head would have collided with the board so I could be unconscious throughout this. God never seems to be on my side though, so the joys of being unconscious just wouldn’t happen to me.

At first I thought that he would just give me the normal beating, but oh was I wrong. If I thought my life wall hell before, God help me now.

He knelt in front of me, fumbling with his belt before pulling it out of the belt loops on his jeans and throwing it across the room. He unzipped his zipper and popped open his button. I was praying to God in my mind to just take me away from this place, obviously though because I’m me, that didn’t happen.

He did the same to my trousers, pulling them past my ankles and dropping them on the floor by the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head before latching his vile lips to my own, trying to get some sort of reaction out of me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction though. I didn’t kiss back, I didn’t move. I didn’t even try and protest I knew it was pointless and wouldn’t stop him.

I don’t think he could be bothered taking my clothes off of my torso because he just left them on. He flipped me over and lined himself up against my sensitive rim of muscles. Tears formed in my eyes as he entered himself into me.

Screaming out in pain was the last thing I remember before I passed out. Finally, God was listening to my pleads.

~

I woke up a couple of hours later; my curls were spread out on a foreign pillow. I looked around at my surroundings and realised that I wasn’t in my own bed, I was in my Uncle’s.

I tried to sit up onto my elbows but pain shot through my body. Tears formed in my eyes as I remembered what had happened such a small time ago. I normally never cry but this time I just couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks.

I eventually managed to get out of his room, pulling my boxers back up my legs. I threw myself back onto my bed, trying to get into a comfortable and painless position to sleep. I just wanted to sleep away all of my problems, memories and life.

Out of all the things my Uncle put me through; this had to be the worst. He’d left me with broken bones, bleeding dangerously and hissing in pain many times before but that was nothing compared to this.

I was raped by my own Uncle, my own flesh and blood.

And he stole my virginity.

The only thing I had left that was precious to me...