Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

039

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."