echo. | larry stylinson.

Chapter Fifteen - Crying Confessions.

Harry's POV:

What was I going to do? I was still looking into Louis' eyes as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and my mum entered the room only a few seconds later. Her face looked paler then ever and I just knew she had seen it.

“H-Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?” my mum said in a weak voice and looked at me. I nodded and slid off my chair, looking at Louis. He had a compassionate look on his face, like he wanted to help me but he couldn't.

I swallowed, but my throat remained dry as I followed my mum upstairs, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans.

My mum stopped in front of the sink and my eyes wandered over the razor and the blood that was still on the sink. Once again I tried to swallow but it didn't help. I looked at my feet – there was no way I could keep looking into my mother's eyes right now.

“W-What is that, Harry?” I hear her say and I didn't need to look up to know what she was talking about. I took a deep breath and shrugged slightly.

“Show me your arms,” my mum suddenly said, grabbing my left arm. My eyes widened and I pulled my arm away before my mum had time to roll up my sleeve.

“No!” I said, trembling.

“Harry, just show me your arm. I worry about you,” my mum said and shook my head, still keeping my arms out of her reach.

“You don't care. If you cared about me you wouldn't go out every day, leaving me alone so much. You don't care. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it.” She gasped and looked at me.

“Harry, you know this isn't true! Just show me your arms. If you don't have anything to hide then there's nothing to fear,” she said and I shook my head. I quickly turned around and ran down the stairs into the kitchen. I didn't even think for a second as my mum followed me.

“Harry, don't be so stubborn! Just show me!” I swallowed as I stood at one side of the table, my mum at the other side of the table. Louis and Jay were just sitting there, watching us. Louis knew exactly what was going on and he looked at me with an expression I couldn't read, and Jay just looked confused.

I looked at Louis and my mum used the moment to grab my arm and pull my sleeve up, and I heard her gasp before I turned around. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that I could disappear. My mum knew my secret, the one I had been hiding for years now.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw my mum looking at all my scars and the fresh cuts from about an hour ago.

“W-Why Harry? Why do you do this?” She looked up and tears were welling up in her eyes.

“I don't know,” I said and there was I again, lying to my mum. I knew exactly why I was cutting myself, I just couldn't bring myself to tell my mum the reasons, mainly because they involved her.

“We need to talk,” my mum said, not letting go of my arm.

“I think we should leave now,” I heard Jay aid and a few seconds later it was just my mum and me in the kitchen.

“Sit down Harry, this is going to take a while,” mum said and I sat down, looking down at my lap.

~

Louis' POV:

“Did you know?” my mum asked me once we entered our own kitchen. I sat down at the table and looked at my mum.

“Know what?”

My mum rolled her eyes. “Did you know that Harry was cutting himself?”

I swallowed, nodding slowly as I looked down at my lap.

My mum sat down across of me. “You should have told someone, you know Anne and I are always there to listen,” she said.

“No, I couldn't,” I said, still looking down. “I promised Harry I wouldn't tell anyone. Promises are meant to be kept, you know?”

My mum sighed. “As much as I respect you being a good friend, Louis, this is serious. Harry is hurting himself, he probably struggles with some mental illnesses. It's not like stealing a cookie from the jar, it's not right to hide this. What if he goes too far and ends up killing himself?” I tensed up as my mum mentioned suicide, and she seemed to notice.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me? Please be honest now, Louis,” she said and I looked down again, nervously playing with my hands. Could I trust her? Of course I could, she was my mother. I was just afraid that Harry might break up with me because I broke my promise.

“Harry is not okay;” I said. “He's depressed and I never saw someone that depressed before, mum. I found out that he cuts when I was at his house yesterday. He made me promise not to tell anyone. He gets beaten up and bullied at school and when he's at home he feels alone because Anne isn't home, and his sister isn't home, too.” I took a deep breath.

“I tensed up because Harry said that sometimes he wishes he could die, that he had the courage to kill himself,” I said and my mum looked at me.

“You have to tell Anne, Louis,” my mum said and I jut nodded.

~

Harry's POV:

“Explain this to me, Harry, why do you do this?” I felt my mum's eyes on me but I was unable to say anything. I kept staring at my exposed wrist. I couldn't believe all this happened. I hid this secret for six years and within one week everyone seemed to find out about it. I knew it was a mistake to let anyone in.

“If you care about me, why do you always go out? I'm sixteen, mum, not some adult that can handle being alone all the time. Why didn't Gemma call me? Why was I alone,, unable to find someone I could talk to when I needed it the most? I think we both have different ideas of what caring looks like,” I said while trying to hide the tears that were burning in my eyes.

“Have you ever had to get through a day, smiling at people, talking as if everything was okay while you felt like you were carrying a leaden weight of unhappiness inside you? Every day, for more than seven years? Do you know what it's like to have your own mind remind you of the fact that you're not good enough, that you're fat and ugly and that you're just worthless and a waste of space?” I took a deep breath.

“I hurt myself on the outside to try to kill the thing that's inside me, and because I deserve this. I deserve every single scar and cut that is on my body.”

I looked up and saw my mum with tear-stained cheeks. She pulled me into a hug. That was the minute my sobs and tears broke out, too. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I silently cried into my mum's shirt.

She pulled away after a few minutes. “W-We can do this, Harry. We can get help for you, please don't tell me you don't need help because you clearly do,” she let out a sob.

“I'll make an appointment with a therapist for you, okay?” I slowly nodded.

This was the point where I thought thing were going to get better, but soon I had to find out just how wrong I was.