"Come on, please open it.
I know you want to see me," I try.
And much to my relief it works when not one second later Harry opens the door and my eyes land on him. I see his pale skin and almost dead eyes looking at me. A bit shocked of how I see him in front of me right now, I try to not let it show.
His room his completely thrashed and destroys. All furniture laying broken or damaged on the floor. Everything black creating a mess. His curtains are ripped off and they make the room light.
They make it all visible.
Red is on the floor, a trail of it being blended into the material of the black carpet. Creating a track to his unmade bed. My eyes widen and he notices it. "June, please get away from me."
I ignore his words and pleas and shake my head. When suddenly the smell of fresh blood invades my senses and I try not to gag. The scent makes me want to vomit and I try ignore it.
Harry's skin is covered in sweat and drops fall from his face. I march over to him and within the blink of an eye, I pull his shirt up and reveal the solution that makes gasp. Traces of dried blood mark his skin, showing me what he has done to himself. Showimg me his selfharm.
"I-I..don't,"
he tries but gives up eventually.
I shake my head and inhale deeply, trying to keep calm and collected. "You need to stop this Harry."
I look at them and see the fresh scars already being infected. I take his arms in my hands and pull him with me to the bathroom. He trails behind me
like a lost puppy.
Opening the door of the bathroom, I order him to take of his shirt and he obeys me without a single word. I now have full view of all damage. Many scars mark his chest and they look painful. I gasp out of shock and I can not stop my crying, my sympathy takes the upperhand and leaving my anger alone in the darkness.
"Oh my god Harry,"
I mumble, to shocked to even pronounce a full sentence. I look up at him and I see his eyes staring down at me.
Our difference in height
making me even smaller than I already am. Taking a towel out
one of the cabinets I make
it wet. "This might hurt a bit."
As carefully as ever, I clean his fresh wounds and he does not even flinch a bit. Used to the pain, he watches me.
My cheeks wet from crying,
I take care of his lost soul.
"Stop it, June," he whispers,
taking my face in his hands.
"I deserve this."
I shake my head and continue
cleaning his wounds. He lets go of my face and accepts the fact I won't stop. When all blood is away and his skin is more clean, I put bandages on the wounds and kiss the butterfly tattooed on his skin. Harry silently thanks me.
I nod at him and wash my hands. Harry's rasp and broken voice creates a sentence, which makes me jump out of happiness, but also created a hole in my chest.
"I will bring you back tomorrow."
I can not seem to look at his face and walk away from him. Trying to be happy with the just given information. But I can not really understand the feeling thay creates my sadness. I shake my jead and lay down in bed.
My thoughts are going crazy, they don't seem to stop and Harry never leaves them. The way he loves me and cares for me, but how he made me feel so small and how he made ma victim never leaves me.
How he showed me the other side of him, how he hurt me and scared me. It had to be something with his mind, with his mental state. He always speaks about it as if it is something he is not really responsible for. And then the pills in his drawer, hidden away.
Something is off and it may be the best if I leave. He is dangerous, not only an enemy to himself but also for me and everyone else around him.
Harry needs to stop with hurting himself, it will be the end of him. He has to stop. I know he did it because of what he did to me, because I am now afraid of him and he lost control and hurt me.
But that's the problem; what if he keeps doing it, what if he hurts me a lot worse? A shiver runs down my spine again and I pull the sheets even more over my body. I let out a deep breath and try to think about tomorrow, when he will bring me and I will see my mother again. My friends and maybe Elijah.
No single trace of happiness when I think of my return is found in me and I frown. Something holds me here. But I have to go, I just have to. If I will be here any longer, I am afraid I will lose my sanity too.
A door closes outside my room and footsteps grow louder. They seem to be coming my way and I wait for something to happen. Then I hear a grunt, a pained one and I shoot up, already set to comfort him. My mind warns me and keeps my away when I do, reminding me it is not my responsibility.
The footsteps die away and
silence lingers through the house again.
•/////
