Azure Saviour | dark h.s.

fourteen | 14

A/N: A little bit of a long one for you. So yay, if you like that, and soz, if you don't. Also, they'll probs be a couple perspective changes in this one. Enjoy.

guilt·y

Harry.

"Oh come on! You can pitch better than that, you arse!" My sister yelled out into the open field, her arm punched out in the same direction.

"Tell me about it. This season's been a disaster." A strange man, who sat beside her spoke up. A beer was in his hand, then took a swig from it.

Wednesday. The day off the baseball game and all I can really say is that the past few days have both been heaven and hell. As much as I love my sister to death, her bringing up what happened, never settles well with me At least, when she tries to start that conversation. Then the same goes for when she talks about our family back home. 

Home. The word that I truly missed; but I didn't know what it meant anymore. I didn't have one. Back in England, where my family lived, it was a house where the people I extremely love, reside in; however, I don't. I reside here, in Kansas City, a place that I chose. It was in my hands to decide where I wanted to be for the rest of my life, or even change the location after it happened; but I didn't. There was no point in doing so. It was all going to remain in my heart and mind — haunting me. 

After my sister found out that I am a full-time smoker, and post our brief conversation about it, she never brought it up again. I knew that she wanted to. She didn't want me to ruin my life physically; but little did she know, it was already ruined — taking the emotional side along with it. 

Surrounding me, there were fans of both teams that played on the field. Kansas City Royals versus the Detroit Tigers. Why did I feel like that the opposing team had some sort hold on me; or was it the city? The many people cheered and booed as the players played along. Each inning, someone would pitch, throw, catch, run — and repeat. The loud sounds that were made, filled the entire stadium and echoed into the open air, but I felt complete silence around me. 

I truly didn't care too much about the game. It was interesting, but it wasn't for me. Like I'd told C, I wanted to learn for my sister, and for no other reason. In an odd sense though, this was much more entertaining than taking her on a trip to the mall; which the last time I entered a place like that was several months ago. In the past, I'd go to the high end stores, making sure I looked my best for specific reasoning; but it didn't matter anymore. What I looked like on the outside, didn't match my inside — not at all. 

Nonetheless, I had taken her to one, and I was bored beyond the fact she kept comparing it to the one back where she lived. Of course, she forced me into buying an official Royals baseball snapback and shirt — and she did the same. She didn't want us to stand out from the crowd, but she seemed to forget that our accent wouldn't hide that major fact. I'd looked in the mirror this morning and saw the reflection of someone who wasn't myself. Someone who seemed like they fit in, when they truly didn't. 

Through our many chats, my little sibling asked why I hadn't gone to work during any of the hours we were together. It wasn't hard to lie and say that I'd freed my schedule up for the entire week so that I could spend time with her. For a split second, I thought she didn't buy it; but thankfully, she did. 

Monday, Tuesday, and this morning, she called or texted our parents, she asked if I wanted to speak with them, and each time, I told her no. "Why not?" Was her main repetitive reply; but I didn't answer back. She knew I wasn't ready, but in reality, would I ever be? 

My head turned away from the view ahead of me and I looked up at the sky. The hot sun blazed down on us, causing my eyes to squint from the bright light. At times, I felt like it burned through my soul and I truly wished that it would. Maybe it would permanently remove the feelings that I had, or at least, numb them. At the same time, I wanted them to remain there forever, so I could torture myself each time I remembered it. So that each time I think back and say to myself, "Look what you did, Harry. Are you happy with what you did? It's all your fucking fault and you have to live with it. You ruined your life in your own bare hands and now you have to try and move one. Ha, good luck. No, you have to make sure you remain miserable for the rest of your life."