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TW // anxiety attack

HAZEL POV

I was nice to the people who watched a man almost die yesterday. I was nice to them. The cruel image of Liam looking at the man makes my heart ache because that's also the man I was playing volleyball with last night.

Not once have I ever had to do that, hurt a man as they did. Never. And my mum's our boss. Not once. The most I've done is make them inhale harmless smoke that makes you sleep for an hour at most.

Honestly, I'm not affected by Harry's cruelty- not anymore. He's evil. His presence makes me sick to my stomach. He truly makes me feel so small in the most indescribable way.

I brush my teeth, trapped in my own thoughts whilst thunder crashes outside. I really like the natural lighting in the bathroom. It makes it brighter and the huge windows make the room more spacious but today it's pretty miserable outside.

I leave the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Today, because of the storm, I'm wearing a simple black longsleeved bodysuit and skinny, blue jeans. I'll wear a coat if we go outside.

But, this 'mission', we have done nothing but lounge around so I don't think we'll be going outside.

As I leave my bedroom, I hear the rain fall harder and then there's another crash. But it's not from the storm outside.

Harry's room.

One thing I've learnt from Harry is that he's heartless and probably murders as a hobby. But today, there are no screams for mercy, no anything.

Then there's another crash coming from this room but this time it was more of a shatter.

I see in the corner of my eye, a flash in the sky before a crash of lightning fills the sky. "Leave him, he's probably trashing the place like he always does. He does it at every place we stay at." Niall says from down the hall before walking out in the spacious main area.

Although Niall advises me not to investigate, my curiosity gets the best of me like always and I just have to know what's happening.

Harry's, by far, the rudest, corrupt man I've ever met but that doesn't mean he can't be checked on- everyone deserves that.

Without it is when people turn into a Harry.

So, I knock on the door.

There is no sound in the room except my heart pounding more and more in worry.

"Warning two, Darling, next time that man back there will be you, dying a slow and painful death as we watch you slowly wither away."

Any regrets I have about my first knock are brushed aside as my knuckles hit the dark wood again. "Harry?" I say. I hate saying his name. Every time I hear his name, I feel as if I've been shot. I hate it so much.

There's still no answer and the storm is still raging. I raise my trembling hand and reach for the golden doorknob. I hold it tight as I hear another crash of thunder from outside.

If I mess up, I'll get killed.

I pinch my eyes shut as I open the door, my heart quivering. When I open my eyes, Harry isn't there. Just his room with the TV smashed, the painting on the wall ripped apart and there's this dark tone in the room that I can't lay my hands on.

If anything, this room makes me more anxious to face him, but in all honesty, I have done this to myself and I can't really go back now.

Why do I feel bad?

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