Harry's Slave (HARRY STYLES FF)

50

Harry's Slave
Chapter 50
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Harry's P.O.V

                                     I knock on the door twice and then comes my dad, with his brown hair messed up and his right hand bloody, along with his fading away scratch on his cheek. 

"Hey, dad." I say as I swallow the thin air. He smirks, "Harry, I've been waiting. You know you're my son and I haven't seen you in over a year?"

I roll my eyes, "Maybe it's because you're a rude person?" I huff, "Anyways, how long do I have to stay in this death hole?"

He laughs, "Come in my son. We'll talk later about the living plans. I want you to meet Sammy, Joe, and Connor. They've been preparing for you to come."

Once he says that, my heart stings as I look at a demon inside of my father. I finally grasped on the fact that he owned people, and forced them to serve him. He made them do whatever he wanted them to do, which made me sick to think of. Even though a long time ago I did the same. Which makes me even more sick.

I give an uneasy step into the warm house, as he shuts the door to light. Inside the house is dark and lonely. I hear the washing machine going as I hear the dishes being placed into their spot. I hear footsteps.

"Sammy!" My father yells at the top of his lungs. Within a second, A short brunette girl with a apron on appears in front of us. She has a scratch on her right cheek and bruises all over her arms and legs. I look at her, as if I look at a dead person. She had no life inside of her. Her eyes looked like they were once a light green, but now a dull grey with bags underneath her eyes.

"Yes sir?" She shyly speaks with her looking up at my dad, with fear in his eyes. She's scared to death and she's shaking. And everyone could easily notice that. She was shaking for god's sake.. I forgot what this slave this was all about. People are suffering around the entire world.

"This is my son, Harry Styles." He says proudly. She turns her head to me. "Nice to meet you sir, would you like anything to drink or eat?" 

I shake my head. "Sammy, are you tired?" 

She looks at me with confusion, same as my father. 

"What do you mean?" She questions. 

"Are you tired, did you get any sleep last night?" I ask, once again talking a bit slower. She looks uneasy and worried, but she shakes her head as she looks at my dad. "No."

"You're tired, go to bed. Get some rest, are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Again, she shakes her head. "I'm fine."

"I'll make you something to eat and drink. Take a nap in your room. You look dead, and maybe you should just relax for the rest of the day babe."

She looks at my dad, which he rolls his eyes. "Go on!" He snaps at her.