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TW: Torture

"Fresh out of fucks forever." -Lana Del Rey

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Harry's POV

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When I was a boy, my father was both my biggest superhero and my scariest bully. During the day, he'd treat me like his pride and joy. Then during the night, I was nothing but a punching bag.

When I became my fathers human punching bag, I went to a place. It was a place only I could go in my head to get away from the hurt I was feeling. I called it my dream land.

I haven't been to dream land in awhile. It stopped once I was able to defend myself. But being here right now, beaten and left for dead. I went to the only place I felt safe. My dream land.

But I didn't know if this was in my head, or I was dead.

6 hours prior

I watched Kennedy as she jumped for joy over her new sense of safety. She threw her hands up in the air and basked in the moment. I've never seen anyone so excited to join a job that implies murder.

I couldn't stop the small smile that had creeped onto my lips. She looked so free, I was jealous. I wish I could be that free. I constantly feel trapped in the same old thing with no way out. The last time I felt free was right before my parents died.

Her eyes caught mine, her smile illuminating my face. She widened her smile before blowing me a quick kiss. I pressed my hand to my pocket, signifying to myself that I had kept it.

She wrecks me

She quickly went back to celebrating, but was briefly interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. I watched as everyone checked their phones until all eyes landed on me.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and narrowed my eyes at the number. It was unknown. Huh. Maybe it's important. I walked towards the front doors and answered the phone call.

I brought myself outside of the casino and held the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I questioned while listening to the radio silence coming from the other line.

Weird.

"Look to your right." A low voice answered through the phone then quickly hung up.

I reached for my gun in it's holster but felt constriction against my wrist. Out of curiosity, I glanced my head to the right. Standing beside me were three bulky men, larger than me. One of them was holding my wrist in place.

Shit.

"Hey fellas." I smirked before preparing to fight for my life.

In instinct, I slung my arm across my body and grabbed my gun from it's holster. Immediately the men drew theirs. I slammed the barrel against the man's wrist, forcing him to let go of my hand. Before I could move, the strong man took my shoulder and popped it out of its socket.

"Fuck!" I shouted from the pain while also trying to get everyone's attention from inside.

I don't know why, the walls are soundproof

"Give up yet?" One of the two men holding their guns questioned with a smirk.

"Not even close boys." I chuckled.

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