Similar Differences (Harry Styles Fanfiction) (CURRENTLY EDITING)

Chapter 34

Harry's POV

I woke up around dinner time and heard a woman's voice in the kitchen talking to Niall. Was Bethany over?
I stood up and put my ear against my door, as if that'd help me to hear their conversation.

"Why is he drinking again? I thought he stopped after rehab." the woman cried. That narrowed it down for me. It wasn't Bethany, it was my very emotional mother.

I stopped drinking for a few months after the facility, not forever.

"I don't know. He's not making any changes, and since the thing with Louis..."

So she knew about that, too. Lovely.

I'm almost 21 years old and I don't get a damn bit of privacy.

I laid back down in the bed and stared at the ceiling. What were they planning now? Another shrink for me to walk out of? Another support group that I'd only attend twice? Force-feeding me the meds I refuse to take?

I went out there despite the strong urge to lock myself in my room. My mother was surprised when she saw me standing in the doorway, and collected herself enough to give me a fake smile.

"Hi, Harry. How are you?"

With no intention to respond, I made my way to the table and sat down.

"Harry, I want you to go back to Dr.Greene." my mother said gently.

Ah, yes Dr. Greene. That was the doctor who I'd never even seen. I walked out before I got called in.

That was where I first saw Bethany.

"No." I told her. I wasn't insane. I didn't need it. God forbid I had one drink... okay, a few drinks.

"You're not doing anything with your life. I-"

"It's summer and I'm a college student. There's nothing for me to do with my life. You're the one who said you didn't want me getting a job because of my 'instability'." I said with finger quotes.

I can't do anything more with my life than I am now.

"I was only repeating what the doctor said. They thought until the attacks slowed down you should hold off on it. Listen, I just want you to go to discuss your drinking habits because-"

"Stop." I said sternly. I wasn't in the mood for this conversation at all. Honestly, I thought she'd given up all hopes to help me after I stopped going to support group. Since that, she hadn't tried to talk about any other options until now

And cue the sobs. "Harry it's not just the alcohol, you're not yourself. I know you're hurt!"

I stood up and walked into the living room, not wanting to test my patience. I already had a pounding headache and she was making it worse.

They know I'm depressed or whatever the doctors call this, and like my mum said, she doesn't just want me to get past my drinking. She's told me so many times she wants me to be happy. But happiness is such bullshit. Every time I was happy, something worse happened and ripped it away. So I quit trying, and then turned to drinking. In my eyes, it's so much better than to be empty than to have that constant reminder in my head that I'm not worth anything. I thought it was ridiculous that every time I found a fix, they took it away from me.

Her and Niall whispered in the kitchen and I knew I'd be forced into this damn shrink visit. Well, she couldn't force me, being that I was an adult. But, she'd find a way, just like with the facility. After my fourth suicide attempt failed, I was taken to the hospital and the police were contacted. Obviously, by law they can force me into rehab or whatever if I'm putting my life in such serious danger. So, I knew if I continued to get drunk, I'd probably do something stupid, she'd call the police or take me to the hospital, and from there, I'd be forced into some therapy program, or worse, the facility again. In order to hold on the remaining bits of my dignity, the best option was to go willingly.