Harry kept his little ears plugged at the screams coming from the upstairs. The pitch black basement was so cold in the winter months that his little sister Elizabeth kept her knees pushed to her chest and snuggled under Harry's arm- desperate for warmth.
"Shut the fuck up whore!" The bellowing shouts from Harry's dad screamed at the mom. Elizabeth pushed up against Harry even harder by the sounds of her father screams, making her shake.
Harry tried so hard to tune out the high pitch screams and the sounds of flying objects that took place right above them but it was no use. He was to exposed to the nature of abuse and he couldn't do anything to stop it.
Harry stands up and grabs the small blanket he and his sister use to sleep on, bringing it over and laying it on her small five year old body. She was shaking so hard that he was afraid for her health, so he wrapped the small blanket around her smaller body.
It's been eighteen days that the young siblings Harry and Elizabeth have been locked up in the cold concrete basement by their father, Axel Styles. The two children survived off of water from the old rusty sink and whatever food that was thrown down to them every few days, usually bread or a box of saltine crackers.
Even though Harry was only six, he was strong- strong because he had to be. His sister is five years old and has never spoken a word because she was too scared to. Harry and Elizabeth used to have a bedroom, a small one with just a bed- but they were bedrooms. Until one day his father decided that they didn't deserve their own room, and threw them both down in concrete basement with a blanket to share.
Harry looks up at the only glimpse of light that came from the old barred up window at the top of the concrete wall, knowing that once more snow comes down it will soon cover it and they will just be left in the complete darkness forever. He stares at the window through his bruised eye and dreams. He dreams about a life that doesn't involve yelling and screaming. He dreams about a life that he can step outside again and see the leaves on the branches and the happy children riding their bikes down the street. He dreams of the happiness he never was given all his life.
But after years of living in a abusive broken home- Harry starts to question if life ever got better. He never understood what he did to live a terrible life and not know what it was like to be loved. Everything Harry ever knew was things he figured out himself because no one was there help him.
Harry's first day of school was the day he realized that other kids were different from him. Other kids had parents who walked them to school and kissed them goodbye. They had fancy bright backpacks with fancier lunches inside when Harry had a plastic shopping bag with and an applesauce. From that moment forward Harry realized at such a young age that he wasn't good enough like the rest of these kids. That the things these kids thought were normal was something he couldn't imagine in his wildest dreams.
The teachers always knew something wasn't good in Harry's home life, just by the way they never saw his parents and how he showed up with a new mark on his skin every week. The teachers knew about this but never said anything because they knew who his father was- and they knew what he was capable of. Elizabeth has never gone to school, she was never enrolled. So when she didn't go Harry didn't because he was too scared to leave her alone in this house all day.
At such a young age Harry felt like he was drowning, trying to grasp onto a hand that wasn't reaching out for him. He treaded water for so long in need for dry land but eventually gave up and let the dark water consume him, becoming one with it. He learned that if life wasn't going to help him out then he didn't need it, he didn't think he deserved it.
The sound of broke glass filled the ears of the freezing siblings and everything went silent, so silent that Harry could actually hear the sounds of his quickened breathing.
"It's okay." Harry whispers to his little sister, keeping his arm around her tiny shaken body.
Ten whole minutes of silence goes by and he feels like it's ended, for now. His father must have left because it's been too quiet for too long. Harry slowly stood up to his bare feet and head towards the old wooden staircase that lead up to the kitchen.
Elizabeth stayed curled up against the cold wall, keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around her as she saw her shaken brother timidly walk up the stairs.
The strong little boy didn't want to face his father, he was terrified of him. But it's been quiet for a while now so he believes that he was gone. Elizabeth needs a sweater, and he can't stand watching her shake so morbidly anymore.
Harry's heart would beat more and more by every step closer to the door. The small creaking of the wooden stairs beckoned at every touch and he tried his best to keep it quiet. Harry wrapped his small hand around the cold dented handle and slowly turned it, praying he wouldn't run into his mother or father and get another black eye.
His mother wasn't as bad as his father, but she was still bad. She never beat the kids but she never stopped the father from doing it. Maybe it was because she believed they deserved the pain they were going though, or maybe she was just too scared of Axel to object to him. Either was she was a dangerous drug abuser and she never even knew what was going on with her kids.
The crack of light flooded the Harry's vision and it was almost alarming to his dark circled eyes. He wasn't used to seeing this much light anymore- it was almost too overwhelming for his small green eyes to handle. He bravely opens the door and looks at the distraught kitchen. Broken glass littered the floor and beer bottles surrounded the counters. Harry hasn't seen the kitchen in so long that he almost forgot what it looked like after eighteen days of the cold dark basement.
His breath was faint and his hands were shaking in fear he was going to get caught. He tried his hardest to avoid the shards of glass and successfully made it into the hallway. He stumbled his feet across the stained carpet and quietly made his way into his old shared bedroom. Harry ran into the beaten room and opened his drawer that had little amounts of clothing. He retrieved the grey sweater for his sister and wasted no time running back out of the room.
Little did Harry know, his father wasn't gone- he was in the other room rummaging through his drawers to find the pack of cigarettes he misplaced. Harry ran his small legs past his father bedroom where he saw a glimpse of the tall greasy curly haired man surfing through the small wooden drawer.
Harry was so frightened by seeing him there that he gasped out of habit. The small exhale from the little voice was enough to pull attention from Axel's ears. Harry felt like he saw a ghost as the tall build of a man burned his dark green eyes into Harry's innocent ones.
"You little shit!" Axel barks and stomps his steel boots towards Harry in rage.
His heart raced and his breath quickened as he ran his bruised legs so fast back to the kitchen. He was terrified of another harsh beating from his fathers wrath. He ran, looking behind him at the tall pudgy frame of a man viciously stomped around the corner.
Harry was so busy looking behind him that he didn't realize that he was approaching the shattered glass all over the kitchen tiles. Numerous shards broke the skin of his bare right foot, making him scream in pain and crash into the wall.
With little fight Harry had left in him, he hobbled his body towards the front door. Whipping the door open and stumbling out into the cold winter air. He stumbles three steps across the front lawn full of snow before tumbling to the ground.
A small family new to the town was walking down the neighbourhood streets with their young six year old son and even younger two year old daughter. Before their eyes was a small little boy busting out of the old scratched up front door, struggling and stumbling into the snow with a bleeding foot. Short on his tracks was a tall angry man in a white tank top and a strong five o'clock shadow, reaching onto the boys arm as tugging him out of the snow.
"No p-please!" The little accent screamed, making quick eye contact with the other six year old boy standing next to his mother.
"Sir he's bleeding! What's going on here?" The father holding his toddler beckons as Harry gets pulled back to the house.
"Hey mind your fucking business pal." Axel shouts back while pulling the limping Harry back to the door.
"No stop!" Harry shouts again while wincing in pain, earning a tight tug from his father, dragging him into the house and slamming the door.
The wife turned to her husband in fright, telling him that they needed to call the police. They both new that the curly headed boy was being abused just by looking at the fight in his face and the bruise around his left eye.
The family called the police and within the hour the police showed up at the broken home. The neighbourhood gathered around as the father came out in handcuffs and the mother was carried out with multiple bloody wounds to the face and body from a brutal beating Axel gave her. Harry and Elizabeth hobble out shortly after in their dirty ripped pyjamas and shattered expressions. They were tired, scared and vulnerable.
Elizabeth hid in Harry side at the bright police lights while Harry limped out with a fat lip, a bleeding cut right in his hairline and a piece of cloth ripped off his shirt and tied around his glass infused foot. The beaten children stumble out of the house with a blanket wrapped around them both.
The medics hurried up to the kids and led them to the ambulance. Harry watches as the neighbourhood stares at him and his sister. He felt so on display to peoples pity and he absolutely hated it. He didn't want their pity, he wanted their help before the bruises and cuts. Day by day Harry was invisible to the community who knew he was a beaten soul, and no one ever helped him.
But bring in the bright flashing lights and the sounds of the sirens then everyone suddenly listens.
If it wasn't for the family that decided to go on a stroll that evening, Harry would've shrivelled into nothing if have been locked up in the basement through the cold winter.
Through this moment forward Harry decided that he had to control his own destiny or someone else would. He promised himself and his sister that no one ever was going to treat them this way ever again. He didn't need love from anyone to be happy and he for sure didn't want it. Because when you love someone, you lose control of your feelings- and losing control was something he swore never to happen again.
He swore to never love another soul for the purpose of keeping control of his life, and he prayed that no one would ever walk in and ruin that for him.