Harry Styles || TW
*5 years old*
(Play song now)
I sat at the table next to my older sister. I took a bite of my little portion of mashed potatoes as I watched my father shout at my mommy. I could hear the sounds of rain patter against the window, the thunder boomed and struck loudly.
"Go get me another beer, now!" My father shouted in my mommy's face slamming his hands against the table. I could smell his corroding breath from here. It was the scent of rotten, alcohol, and cigarettes.
"S-Samuel, I'm feeding o-our baby," my mommy wheezed lightly as she was breast-feeding my new born baby brother, Leo.
"Who gives a fuck about him?! I want a beer!" Father shouted in mommy's face, making Leo start to cry and detach from his food source.
"Shh, it's okay." My mommy rocked Leo, trying to get him to stop crying.
"I'll g-get y-you your b-beer f-father," I stuttered looking at the man who always had higher power over me.
"Go!" He shouted, backhanding me across the face. His rough hands felt like sandpaper against my fragile skin as I collapsed on the floor.
"Samuel!" My mother gasped and shouted at my father in disbelief.
"What?! Why the fuck are you shouting?!" My father bickered.
I felt my eyes water up with tears at the pain I felt against my face, but they quickly were crushed when my fathers rugged boot pressed against my cheek.
"No crying!" He shouted at me, my face smashing into the tile.
"O-okay," I tried to breath out.
His foot released my face, I stumbled up and waddled into the kitchen. My father is obsessed with the movie Scream. He has little pictures of the character hung all throughout the house. He forces me to have posters of the man in the white mask and black cloak hung up in my room, I'm scared of him. The way he holds his knife and the way he talks. I don't know why my father is obsessed with him. Maybe it's because they are alike in some way. Someone my father can finally relate to. But I would never say that to fathers face, I would get punished with unbelievable punishments.
I opened the fridge and grabbed the beer can. I walked back into the kitchen, bowing down to my father as I handed him the can of unhealthy liquid.
"Hm." He observed with a cigarette between his lips, "I wanted the bottle!" He shouted. He went from being calm and observant to shouting outrageously.
I nodded, standing back up from my bowing position. I felt a grip on my wrist that was holding me back. I felt a flame ignite my skin, I roared and cried as I looked back. Father had smashed the cigarette into my skin against my wrist. I pinched my eyes, "please-" I breathed out.
"Shut the fuck up!" Father said, letting go of my wrist making me clash to the floor.
"Harry!" Lea, my older sister called out. Dropping to her knees and running her hands through my sweaty hair.
"Lea," I sighed with chattering teeth. My body felt like I have been burned through the pits of hell, I felt on fire. "D-don't, you can't get hurt."
"Lea sit the fuck down before I pull the god damn trigger!" My father shouted, aiming a gun at her forehead. I gasped and she weeped. Father always kept guns on him, no matter the circumstances.
"Father don't!" I cried.
"Excuse me?!" He shouted at my outburst, now pointing the gun towards me and my nimble, malnourished body. I was shaking, no wonder I always collapsed. I was underfed, over worked, and always at the brink of death. I never could catch a break.
"I-I'm sorry, I w-will go g-get you the bottle of b-beer." I mumbled.
Father aimed the gun down, smirking suddenly as I gave in. He put the heavy killer machine in the waistband of his pockets. I always followed his orders, what was different about it now? What was up with that sickly smirk? I thought these to myself as I walked into the kitchen.
Fear.
I felt fear for someone that wasnt myself, that is why he smirked because I would've always put myself before Lea. He thought it was pathetic that I had to defend my older sister, but I loved her and wouldn't ever want her to get hurt. She was the only person I could trust in my twisted family. I trusted my mommy too, also Leo. But I didn't really have anything to trust them with.
I opened the fridge once I reached the kitchen, this time being completely sure I grabbed the right thing. I closed the fridge holding a heavy beer bottle in my hand. It was heavy for my size, anyway.
I waddled over to the small dining room, bowing down to father, handing him the beer he so desperately wanted.
I sat back in my chair, my shaky hand going to grab the spoon that I used for my food. My hand lifted the spoon up, but the shakiness was too much for me to handle as the spoon fell out of my hand, clattering on the floor. White globs of potato smashed on the floor.
"Harry!" My father growled and I shrieked slightly as I ran into the kitchen to get paper towels.
"Come here you little mother fucker!" My father grabbed my forearm harshly, leaving hard red and purple imprints on my skin.
He led me to the place I dreaded most. The bathroom. He walked me in there, slamming the door closed so we both were in the room.
"Get this through your fucked up head, alright?!" Father screamed in my face, making a fake gun with his fingers and pressing it against my temple. "You don't talk back! This is your punishment!" He shouted in my face, and the decay of his teeth made me want to vomit. But I didn't, the punishment would only be worse.
"So this, Harry." He scoffed, tugging my arm over to the shower. "This is your obvious punishment."
Father threw me against the shower, shattering some of the glass door. He's never been this aggressive and angry before. My skin tore at the glass cutting me open. It was bloody. I was covered in cuts, cigarette burns, and my own sadness.
Father looked at me and chuckled at my body that had almost been lifeless. He pulled the water handle to the coldest setting, I felt water fall down on my skin. Stinging every inch of my body.
He went down underneath the cabinets and grabbed something that looked like, duck tape? Why is there duck tape under the cabinets? He aggressively pulled a long strip of the sticky, beige tape and cut the length off with his teeth. Then, he walked over to the running shower. Wrapping the tape around the handle and taping it against the tile wall. I couldn't turn the water off.
"Think about what you've done, Harry!" He screamed at me, slamming the door and locking it with a key from the outside.
I cried, I could finally let go since father was no longer in my presence. He's never been this harsh before. I mean, he always throws me in the showers that are ice cold. But for how long? Usually it's only five hours. But for some reason I felt tonight would be much worse. He's never burned me with a lit cigarette tip before, either. But I felt as if it was now going to be a common thing. I just hope Lea and Leo are okay.
If there is anything worse than being hurt, it's being stuck in your own thoughts. So here I was, beaten, defeated, sitting on the floor of the shower fully clothed, as the freezing water drenched my body.
Why was my name Harry? My older sister is named, Lea. And my baby baby brothers name is Leo. They're practically the same thing. So why does mine start with an H? I guess I was just asking for my due date right at the start. I was basically already getting taunted that I was different. I mean seriously, why isn't my name Lee? It fits with my siblings names. But no, my name was Harry.
What did I do so wrong to deserve this? All of this? I got father what he wanted, his beer. I always protected my siblings no matter their gender, and their age. And mommy, I always took care of her when she needed it. She didn't often though, she was strong. I looked up to her, I want to be strong like her one day. Hopefully I will, I want to take over the world and make other people happy.
But my father, I don't want to be like him.
I guess the best I could do with this situation is sleep it out. It probably wasn't healthy to sit in the shower fully drenched as ice cold water seeped into your cuts. I picked the glass from my arms to help me fall asleep. It was like counting sheep, except I was counting the shards of glass that dug into my body.
"Harry get up! It's time for school!" Father screamed in my face as my head rested against the shower tile. I had realized I slept in the shower. I didn't think I would actually fall asleep, though.
"Y-yes." I nodded, shakily standing up from the moldy tile floor. I leaned against the tile wall for support.
"Don't forget to take a nice cold shower," my father chuckled loudly at the unfunny joke he made.
I didn't reply, I just shook my head lightly and walked out of the bathroom. But not without a hand constricting around my throat.
"Don't shake your head at me, learn some respect boy." My fathers deep voice rung in my ear as his constrict got tighter. I felt myself fall to my feet, I had passed out from the lack of air escaping my lungs.
"Baby, you have to leave for school in five minutes, okay?" My mother's sweet voice woke me up from my faint. My throat felt sore and hurt. She rubbed my back with tired eyes. She was so pretty, she had blonde hair and green eyes. She had eye bags too, but that was because she was just so tired.
"Why are you with him, mommy?" I referred to my father. "Why are you married to him? He's not nice." I pouted my bottom lip out. I felt my eyes begin to water. I was allowed to cry when I was with mommy. She lets me, she hugs me and tells me it's okay.
"Sweetie." She sighed propping herself on her knees, "I have to. He makes the money, okay? I promise I don't love him. And I'm sorry he hurts you, all of my sweet children. But I'm especially sorry for you. So, let's get dressed and after school we maybe can go get ice cream, okay?" She sniffled, ruffling my hair.
"Okay." I smiled, nuzzling my face into her collarbone. It's were I felt the safest at. She smelled like mangos, and her hugs felt so warm.
"Now go get ready," she softly said and walked away with a smile.
I rushed to my room, seeing the Scream poster that father hung up on my wall a year ago. I winced at the sight, he was scary. Bursting open my closet, I looked for clothes. We weren't wealthy, so I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts that I've already wore three times this week. It was Thursday.
I went to the bathroom. Seeing the water from the shower still dripping, I knew the price of the water bill would be high. I brushed my teeth, and patted my curls with water so they would fix and stay in place.
I think it was good enough. I smiled in the mirror, making a mental note to not let myself go at school.
I told my father I was ready to be dropped off at school. He grunted and stormed out the door with a strong grip to my wrist. I almost winced at the sharpness of the hold, but I didn't. This wasn't something to be held gunpoint for, it just wasn't worth it. Father would absolutely freak if he heard me wince in the form of pain.
He drove me to school, barely letting me get out of the car. I was running late, usually your parent takes you into the office for a tardy pass, but mine clearly isn't going to. He left in the dusk.
My fragile cut body walked along the sidewalk as the cold air seeped into my skin. Pricking the cuts. I opened the entry way, peering my head at the office ladies.
"Hello?" An old lady peeped, giving my wounds a strange stare.
"Hi, may I have a tardy pass please?" I smiled.
"And where is your parents?" She typed the keypads.
"Oh, my father is at home. My mommy is at home, too." I lied, resting my elbows against the surface.
"Wel- actually you know what? I don't got time for this shit, get to class kid." She muttered, handing me a pink slip with information on it that she somehow already knew without me having to tell her.
"Thank you," I muttered, surprised that she could use such vulgar language at work.
I walked down the corridors, seeing all the bright classrooms through the windows. One had paper-made ladybugs hanging around the window with a vine covering them. Another one had a few rainbows with clouds at the bottom and a pot of gold. I smiled, walking to my classroom that had cartoon monkeys over the door.
"Harry, you're late." Mrs. Sanders chuckled lightly.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sanders." I muttered and she observingly looked at me.
"Harry, I was just kidding," she breathed out. "What happened to your skin? It's all cut up." She said worryingly.
"Oh, got in a fight with a lawnmower." I lied, I couldn't tell her the truth. Father would actually kill me.
"Okay buddy," she patted my back. "But if something is ever not going good at home, let me know alright?" She reassured and I nodded, taking my seat. No one was sat next to me.
"So," Mrs. Sanders started. "Now that we have everyone here, I would like to introduce you to our new student. Come on up." She motioned towards the new kid.
She bit her nails in nervousness, and walked up to the front of the room. She was so beautiful, I wanted to hear more about her. She started introducing herself at the front of the class. I watched her in awe, my pupils dilating.
"H-hi," she stuttered. "Uhm, my name I-Is Breelyn Tyler... but I go by Bree." She nervously spoke. She was wearing a t-shirt that had a butterfly embroidered on it. She also was wearing baggy denim bootcut jeans and white sneakers that were too big for her.
"Okay, Bree." Mrs. Sanders folded her hands together, "does anyone have any questions for Bree?"
I raised my hand.
"Harry." She called on me and I started to spill out my question for the beautiful girl at the front of the class.
"What's your favorite food?" I asked her, maybe it was a weird question. But I hoped it wasn't, I was just curious.
"Uhm," she paused to think. "Probably pancakes, or chicken." She breathed out a smile.
"Oh cool," I said smiling back at her. I really hoped she wasn't weirded out about my question, maybe it was a weird thing to ask.
"Okay, is that it?" Mrs. Sanders asked, no one else raised their hands to ask Bree a question. Bree sat down in the spot she came up from, right behind me.
I tried paying attention to Mrs. Sanders, but I was too focused on the beautiful girl scribbling down maths behind me.
I turned around, my green eyes met her brown ones. Bree shot me a smile before she returned to copying and pasting everything the teacher was saying down into the composition notebook.
Soon, maths were over.
"Okay guys, it's time for recess!" Mrs. Sanders enlightened all of us excited 5 year olds, some of us were 6 years old, too.
We all busted out of the door, and my skin was pricked to the outside. I didn't know who to play with, I didn't have any friends. I saw a group of guys playing field soccer, so I mine as well go join them, right?
I ran over to them, they passed and kicked the black and white checkered ball back and forth. They were all sweaty and covered in musky dirt.
"Hey! Can I play with you guys?" I asked excitedly, crossing my legs over another.
"What'd you just say?" One of the bigger guys piped up, he was tall for a five year old. He could beat the life out of me if he wanted to.
"Can I play with you guys?" I asked in a much more unconfident tone, twiddling my thumbs together.
"Does this loser really think he can play with us?" The tall guys chuckled and the one that held the ball in his hand laughed back. I noticed as he held the ball, there was also a homemade bracelet on his wrist. It had light blue and dark blue beads.
"Look dude, watch your back, alright?!" The tall one screamed in my face. Pushing me to the floor. "You're ugly, weak, covered in scars. No wonder you have zero friends." He scoffed, "come on guys let's go." He referred to his soccer friends, but he didn't leave without kicking me in the stomach, smashing his cleat against my tiny rib cage. I groaned at the pain as I felt a soft tear escape my eye and land on the green grass that didn't seem so green anymore when I looked at it.
What was wrong with me? I'm disgusting.
I curled up on the floor, grass poking my fresh bloody cuts. I looked around and saw Bree on the swing set laughing with a girl, how was she so good at this? Making friends and such, it's only her first day.
I sobbed and weeped, I had to hold myself together because it was time to go back to class. I walked along the sidewalk, kicking rocks into a pile and Bree came up to me. I was blinded by her beauty.
"Hey, are you okay?" She asked, seeing my scars that covered my arms and neck from the shattering glass.
"Yeah." I chuckled.
"Oh, okay." Bree nodded, "what is your name?"
"Harry," I smiled.
"Harry huh? Are you new here, too?" She questioned.
"No," I replied with a sigh.
"Oh. Well, it was nice talking to you Harry." She said, walking away back to the classroom but I stopped her.
"Bree, wait!" I called, her confused brown eyes turned to my dilated green ones.
"Yeah?" She asked.
"I really like y-your shirt. Butterflies, they're pretty." I said, her shirt was really cute with the embroidered butterfly.
"Yeah they are, aren't they?" She agreed, "thank you for liking my shirt." She smiled, walking back to the sounds of the bell.
It was soon the end of the school day. I of course, had to walk home. Annoyingly, it was raining.
Normally, I love the rain. I love, love rain. I liked to dance in it with mommy. She always had Leo on her hip when she spun around in the blue teardrops that fell from the sky. But, the rainy teardrops hurt as it seeped into my bloody wounds. I hissed lightly, as the rain poured down on my head.
I walked through the front door soaking wet, whining slightly when the cold air touched my skin after I had been in the cold rain.
"Hi sweetie." My mommy muttered to me as she sat in the rocking chair, singing Leo to sleep.
"Hi." I smiled, "where is father?" I asked. I didn't want him to be here, hopefully he wasn't.
"He's picking stuff up from the store." I knew what she meant by "stuff."
"Oh," I sighed. He was picking up alcohol and cigarettes to burn me with.
"I'm sorry sweetheart. Someday we'll be free, okay?" She reassured, "one day mommy's going to win the lottery, we're going to escape and buy a big house. We'll live in a mansion." She chuckled, and I smiled.
"There was a new girl at my school today." I brought her up in the conversation.
"Oh really?" She hummed.
"Mhm." I nodded, "she was very beautiful. Her name was Breelyn but she goes by Bree. She has long brown hair and beautiful doe brown eyes. She wore a butterfly t-shirt, baggy bootcut jeans, and white sneakers." I gushed, slightly blushing as I talked about her.
"Someone's gotta a crush.. " my mommy singed with a smirk.
"No!" I laughed, "she's just very beautiful."
"Did you talk to her?" She asked.
"A little bit. Her favorite food is pancakes and chicken. She also asked me what my name was." I said confidently.
"You've got some game with the ladies, huh?" She chuckled, patting Leo's back.
"I do not." My cheeks faded red, "I mostly asked the questions. She only asked me for my name."
"Try talking to her tomorrow?" My mommy suggested.
"Maybe..." I sighed, sticking my tongue between my teeth.
"I'm going to go put Leo in his crib, I'll be right back." Mommy said and got up from the rocking chair.
"Wait," I quietly stopped her so I didn't wake my sleeping brother up, "where's Lea?" I wanted to know where my big sister was.
Mommy suddenly looked sad, "Samuel made Lea go with him. I didn't like the idea, I told him that. And that's how I ended up with this." Mommy pulled up her shirt slightly, revealing a large bruise on her hip bone.
I gasped, she looked down and shook her head. She pulled her shirt back down, hiding the shamed purply bruised skin.
"That man," she referred to my father. "He is cruel, one day, it's all going to come back to him and bite him in the ass!" She shouted.
"Mommy; shh!" I hushed her so she wouldn't wake up Leo. But I also cheered her on at her talking back.
"You're right, Harry." She chuckled, "but one day Samuel will regret everything-"
"We're home." I heard the groggy smokers voice that cut off my mommy's speaking.
"Hello, Samuel." My mommy said in a monotone voice.
"Hello, my wife." He smirked, she would've preferred to go by her real birth name; Sage.
"Do not call me your wife, I am-" mommy started but father halted her.
"Don't start with me, babe." He pushed his hands against her neck, Leo started to wake up from his sleep in a fit of sobs.
"One day, all of the abuse.. it's going to bite you in the ass, father!" I repeated my words from what mommy said.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Father asked, giving me a cold hard look. My stomach suddenly dropped as I realized I just cursed at him. I immediately regretted my words, wishing I could take them back when I saw the way he looked at me.
"N-nothing.." I stuttered, I was scared.
"Come with me." He let go of mommy's neck and gripped my wrist. "It's time to watch your favorite movie." He smirked, knowing that it was my least favorite movie.
Scream.
"Harry!" Mommy and Lea called out in fear. But, I shook my heads at them. Signaling them not to worry.
Father death gripped my wrist tighter, almost as if he was trying to break it. I was already malnourished and fragile, this didn't help.
Father threw me into his bedroom, scooting me closer towards the static television. The antennas were poked up. It was just a brown box screen.
He pulled up the movie from the DVD's rack, he had at least 100 copies of the same Scream film. He slid it in the player, and the home screen showed up after all the trailers.
"Father, please d-don't. Scream is scary." I bit my nails, father has forced me to see this film so many times. The more I see it, the scarier it gets.
"Shut the fuck up or I'll press play!" He shouted in my ears, pressing play anyways.
I sat feeling alone in the horror. As the man in the white mask and black cloak that haunted my nightmares popped up on the television screen.
///
:(
A/N: the song I put at the top of the chapter reminds me a lot of Harry's childhood. If y'all are an Eminem stan (haha get it, that's the name of the song) like myself, you'd know the song is kind of a slight symbolization to Harry's childhood, and his family. The song represents his family a little bit.