Harry styles bullies me.

Chapter 3. Turning Tables

Skate-

Bring Bring Bring.

Last period was officially over. And now, I was going home. To work on my project. With Harry Styles, my bully.

1435, 1436, 1437. Ah, my locker.

As I opened my locker, I pulled out my backpack and began to put binders into it.

"Hey, Skate. Let's go, now." Harry spoke sharply.

"Um, okay yeah." I said shutting my locker.

"Are you scared of me?" Harry surprised us both by asking.

"I was. Now I'm used to it." His eyes widened and lips pursed.

He was speechless. For the first time ever, Harry styles was speechless. And I made him speechless.

"Does that surprise you?" I asked shutting the car door behind me.

"Yeah, a lot."

"Why are you being nice," I spoke too soon.

I was shortly greeted with a nice, welcoming smack in the face and pinch on my arm.

"Scared now," Harry spoke.

"That's all I can do now, because I'm driving that is."

"Harry. I'm not fucking scared of you. Nor will I ever be again. Harry you make me hate life. And hate myself. But you know what Harry? I'm so used to it. So fucking used to it. If you are trying to Make me scared of you, you're sick. I'd rather die right here right now than be here with you for any longer. Now let's go to my house and I'll do the project while you bitch at me for being fat or ugly or some other shit. Let's. Go." I finished my rant.

Harry stayed silent. ,

~~

We pulled into my driveway, after a long silent car ride.

"Is anyone home?" Harry asked.

"They shouldn't be but it looks like someone's car is here." I said.

It looked like my step dad's car, but it couldn't be. He hasn't been home in what? Two, Three months?

"Let me go see." I said.

"Let me come with you."

"Whatever come on." I spoke.

As we walked into my house, I felt something different. It was colder in here. When I turned the corner I saw something I wish I never would have.

My mother. On the floor. Blood surrounding her, and my father. Whom I haven't seen in a few months also dead. Which, was all caused by my father. My crazy, crazy father.

Tears streamed fast, down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do. I looked at the bathroom, at Harry, then the bathroom again.

I ran. Ran to the bathroom.

"Skate. Skate! SKATE!" Harry was now screaming.

"Go. Go away," I whispered.

"Leave me here to die just like them, please." Tears streamed harder.

"Skate, I- I love you. Open this door." Harry spoke.

"You don't love me. Nobody loves me. Nobody ever will. You said it yourself!" I yelled.

He stayed silent.

But was still outside of the door, tapping his foot impatiently.

So, I did what I do best.

I grabbed the blade, and pushed down hard. Harder than I ever have before. I moved it across my thigh. Then to my wrist three times. And one more on my hip bone. I cringed at the blood streaming down my legs, arms, and stomach.

After about 10 minutes the bleeding on my thigh wouldn't stop.

I began to sob.

"Harry," I choked.

"Skate. What is it?" He worried.

"Come in here." I unlocked the door.

His lips pursed and I swear I saw a tear in his eye but he quickly blinked it away.

"Skate," he began.

"Harry I don't need pity," I sniffed.

"I need you to help me stop the bleeding, it won't stop and, I'm scared Harry." I whispered.

"Don't be scared." Harry said getting a towel and bandaids.

Once Harry fixed my slits, I began to sob harder and I couldn't control it.

"Shh shh. It's okay skate. Baby it's okay." He was now holding me on his lap stroking my long brown hair.

"Harry. I don't have any family. None. I don't have any friends. What am I going to do? I'm only 17. Am I going to a foster home?" I cried.

"We'll find you somewhere to go." Harry said looking around.

Harry's eyes stopped at my wrists, and thighs. He saw the old scars.

"Skate," I looked up into his eyes.

"What are these scars from? Why did you do it then?" Harry asked.

"Harry I don't know if I can tell you. You wouldn't be happy if,"

"I don't care. Tell me. Now."

"They're um. They're, f-from you.. You bullied me and I couldn't," I got interrupted.

"I did this to you?" He asked, more to himself than to me.

He ran his fingers through his messy hair and paced back and forth.

"Skate."

"Yes, Harry?"

"Kiss me."

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Dramatic chapter. Heheh, what do ya think? Eh?