Start From Scratch (Sequel To Why Me???)

The Reason For The Cuts

"All done!" I announce, placing the cereal box in the cupboard that's above the sink. I turn to face Harry. "Now can we go to the lounge, or somewhere we can talk about those?" I point to his arm. Harry sighs and turns on his heels, beckoning for me to follow him. I oblige.
"Bella, you know that you're the most stubborn person I know," Harry says. I smile and take two quick steps to match his pace.
"I'll take that as a compliment. Many a time, it's good to be stubborn in life." Our arms brush against each other's and instead of moving my hand away, or taking a step to my left, I let our fingers and arms brush again and again. This is the closest contact that Harry and I have had in a while, other than us dancing at the party.
"I didn't mean it in a good way." Harry's eyes sweep over our arms and a small smile lights up his face. As we step out into the garden, Harry takes my pinkie in his. He's staring ahead, but I can see the hesitation in his face. He's not sure if I'm going to be okay with holding hands, or if this is fine. Deciding to take the lead this time, I remove my pinkie from his and wrap my hand around Harry's. He squeezes mine, turning his head to smile at me.
"Bell, sit here." Harry says, motioning for me to sit on a white chair. I nod my head, and leave Harry's hand, even though my heart doesn't want to. My heart flutters at the name. I love it when he calls me that. It feels so warm...and it sounds better then Bella.
"Harry, now that we're all settled. Please spill," I say. He sighs, and passes his hand through his hair.
"Bella..." Harry closes his eyes. I know this is hard for him to tell me, but I have a right to know. "Last night when you told me that I hurt you - hit you and kidnapped you - it killed me internally. Bell, I controlled myself with a lot of effort that day and I know if I hadn't...I know that I would've hurt you badly. Very badly," Harry shakes his head. "Just knowing that, I can imagine how much I used to abuse you before. Bell, I can hear your yells clearly. I don't know if that's my imagination, or if those yells are buried in some part of my memory." I pull my chair closer to Harry's and take his right hand in mine. Harry's whole body is so tense, but it relaxes a little when I take his hand in mine. "I-I just had to make myself feel that pain and punish myself for what I did. I just had to." A tear wets my right cheek.
"Harry, you don't have to do that." I say, a lump forming in my throat.
"But I do, Bella!" Harry gets up and starts pacing across the garden. "I love you, goddammit! It seems hard to believe after all that I've done, but I fucking love you. And thinking about hurting you...kills me." He storms toward the doors that lead to the garden and slams them behind him. I don't have the energy to get up and follow him, console him. Tears keep streaming down my cheeks. I wipe one away and two more flow out.
"Why the fuck am I crying?!" I yell, getting up. I kick at the small pebbles that line the sides of the garden. Harry hurt himself because of me. Harry hurt himself because of me. I hate this! I hate the way he's made me feel like the bad guy. He did this before last night and he's done it again. Years before, when Harry first kidnapped me I would want to punish him, and cause him as much pain as he caused me. But not anymore. Not after my heart fell completely in his hands. Not today, when my heart loves him to no limit.
"Bella?!" Liam calls from somewhere, but I can't see a thing because tears are blocking my vision. "Bella, shit! What's wrong?" He asks. I shake my head, crouching down on the grass. Arms engulf me, and shoot warmth through my cold, shaking body.
"H-He c-cut himself because o-of me," I manage to say between sobs. "H-He's punishing h-himself."
"Shh, don't speak." Liam shushes me, swaying us slightly, as if I'm a child who needs to be put to sleep. "We'll talk later, Bella. Just...stop crying please." I shake my head, trying to tell Liam that I don't want to sleep.
*********
"Harry, what are you doing here?" I ask him, as I look up from the folder in my hand.
"Bella, I want to show you what you've done to me." Harry says, raising the sleeves of his shirt. "Look at this." He points to the deep, red gashes on his arms. In the mall, I only saw one arm of Harry's. However, right now both his arms are covered in cuts. From the back pocket of his jeans, Harry takes out a small pocket knife. "Now, look what else you're doing." Harry makes another cut on his wrist with the pocket knife.
"Don't!" I yell, taking a step toward him. However, my feet don't budge after that one step. They just don't want to move. I try my best to force them to move, however, my efforts are in vain.
"See, what you're doing!?" Harry makes another cut. I yell again, trying to make my feet move. Harry keeps making cut after cut on his arm, and I keep yelling and trying my best to make my feet move. After Harry's made up to ten deep cuts on each arm, he raises his arm, and places the knife in front of his neck. He's standing in a pool of blood that keeps getting fed with more blood. Blood that keeps dripping down his arms.
"My death is your fault!" Harry says, pressing the knife into his neck to draw out a little blood.
"No!" I yell, sitting up in bed.