Immoral Innocence {H.S}

"I dont like what you've become Louisa." 4.

*two years later*

I sat alone, the boxes becoming piles in my room. Everything about the move back here just seeming like a disaster.

I'd lost myself a little too much. I'd lost myself so much that the family had wound up back to where they started. With an unpopular, unpolished brat of a child who now has a criminal record and a tendency to rely on the use of drugs. They'd also had to move back into the house of their previous misery.

Father had lost his job, mother had sold the new house and I'd just about ruined my life to a point were I thought completely unnecessary.

I sat on my made up bed as I stared around, the emptiness of the room exactly the same as the emptiness I felt about the ordeal with school- the fact I actually had to loose control of myself to make my way to the top.

At least I'm skinny now- not that it made my mother care for me anymore then she did previously. There's always something not right about me in my mother eyes. Always.

So I sat there, oblivious to what was going on in the neighbours back garden, I was just dreading coming back here so much that nothing else could occupy my mind.

I thought so much about about my past that I wound up thinking as far back as to when I lived here last time. When everything was just as much of a mess as it was now, except we had money coming in then.

Everything seemed to flood back at once. Not that I had much to remember. But someone specific popped to mind and before I could even begin to cry or reminisce any further I pounced to my window ledge, looking outside into next doors back garden.

There he sat, swinging his legs while he sat firmly on a branch of his grand oak tree- two boys either side of him who looked strangely and oddly familiar. H sat there eyeing the leaves that fell in front of him while the boys either side of him conversed.

"Hardin you dick. Meridian will kill you." A familiar blonde haired American said.

"No, because he won't find out." The other one spoke up anxiously.

Harry or Hank.

"Anyway Hank, you kissed her at Wesley's party last week so shut up." He wasn't talking to H, he was talking to the blonde. H... H's name. After all these year's his name was Harry. I should have known.

I plunged my hand into the box that sat below me, digging out my black leather journal before turning to the first page. I crossed both names out- they were irrelevant now. I circled 'Harry' in excitement using my purple fountain pen, a tingle of infatuation flourishing inside of me.

I looked back outside.

"Harry." I smiled, setting my journal aside for the night.

Hours later, father arrived home after a brief job hunt in the area. He rushed upstairs to me first obviously- him and mother were having a lot of disagreements lately- weather it was my naive attitude or mature brain- something was telling me that they were going to divorce, which made me feel guilty.

"Princess." Father greeted, walking into my clutter filled room.

"Hi father." I said, smoothly edging away from the window to sit next to him on the bed.

"Mother been okay?" He asked.

"Major bitching problems but aside from that she's kept her mouth shut." I huffed, father grabbed my wrists.

"Angel, your loosing too much weight." He said examining my arms, prodding my protruding bones.

"No I'm not!" I raged snatching my arm back while covering it with the sleeves of my sweater, not wanting him to notice the recent and only cut I made there.

"Louisa, you didn't eat yesterday." He sighed.

"Because I wasn't feeling good." I shrug.

"You'll never feel good again with those dieting habits. You want to be healthy- not skinny." He reminded me.

"Well you've only got mother to blame." I sass, turning my head to look away from my pouting father.

"I miss the old you Louisa- when you read books and spied on that kid next door." Father sulked.

"W-What? I never s-spied on anyone. You don't know what your fucking talking about!" I exclaimed, standing from my spot on the bed.

"Come on Louisa..." Father started but I interrupted.

"No! Stop calling me Louisa, I told you, it's LouLou. Plus, I didn't spy on anyone, even when I was a freak. Leave!" I demanded.

"Lou-"

"Leave!" I cried, pointing my finger to the door. Slowly but surely my father hauled himself up, he eyed me up and down with a frown set deep into him lips. "Stop looking at me your weirdo! You don't know anything about me!"

"I don't like what you've become Louisa." He murmured, walking out into the hall reluctantly- leaving me alone in a room that had boxes and boxes filled with shitty memories.