Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 62

Harry's POV:

Mum was bleeding. Her lip was cut open and she was cradling Amilia in her stomach trying to calm her kicks. I brought her ice and lifted her hand off her cheek, the one he hit twice, and gently place it on top before kissing her discolored skin. We spent the whole day together rejoicing over finding out she was pregnant, and the one person she couldn't wait to tell was him. She told me she was finally going to have a family with him, and that I was going to have a sibling to protect and look after. Someone to teach how to play sports or the piano, something she has been dying for me to teach Amilia, and she even made him a dinner to break the good news. I waited with her, helped her make the steak and mashed potatoes. She wore a cute little flower dress and the same white heels she wore for the passed two years, and curled her hair just for him.

It all was all for him.

I was in my room working on my studies when he came home. I heard mum welcome him and ask him what's wrong. He started talking about how tedious work was and that he hates his job, the normal shit he bitched about every night. Just like always, mum found a way to calm him down. She always did. She always knew the right thing to say. Her mind was a book filled with emotions and intelligence but he never once appreciated it. I did though, I appreciated everything she did. She was my guardian angel and the light in my dark tunnel that never burned out regardless of how much I mistreated her. She was too good for him, for anyone actually.

"Okay, it's fine. Just calm down." The appeasing voices turned to nails on a chalk board within seconds, and I closed my book see what the yelling was about.

She was stepping away from him while he yelled, trying to reach for a wall behind her as she backed away like a scared animal, but his words were drowning in rage. She never took yelling well. She hated it actually. She hated being yelled at because as a child, her father did nothing but that. She became scared very easily and always broke into tears. I had to find that out the bad way.

"It's not going to be fucking okay! You say that every goddamn night!" He slapped a glass vase full of flowers he bought her the other day, and it shattered to the ground into thousands of broken pieces.

"Hey, don't yell at her." I was fourteen but didn't give a shit that he was twice my age and size.

"Shut the hell up and go back to your room." He spat.

I laughed because he must have forgotten who he was talking to.

"And you," he cringed towards her, "change that dress, you look like a slut."

"Fuck you, don't talk to her like that." I was livid and ready to break his jaw and just seeing the tears that didn't deserve to fall slide down her cheek made me want to kill him. I was violent around that time and my anger was something I couldn't control. Everyone knew that, but they still tested me. Everyone tested my anger but my mum.

"Are you stupid? I said go to your room!" I don't remember if he was drunk or not, maybe a little because his eyes were a bit blood shot, but it was the least of my worries at that moment.

"Harry, he's right. Just go to your room. I'll be fine." Before I could process her forced smile, he grabbed her by her shoulders and slams her against the wall, forcing the weight of his palm against her rosy cheek, and all I could remember was red.

I pushed him off of her and threw him to the ground, punching his face over and over without mercy because I didn't care if I killed him. No man should ever touch a woman, no matter what the situation might be. If you even lay a finger on one, your parents didn't raise you right. You're a piece of shit and deserve hell on your life.