nobody's home; harry styles.

1.5.

I look at the ground, confused. He cares... He genuinely, seriously cares.

"I'm here for you, okay? Always, for whatever you need." He tells me, trying to look at my eyes.

"Thank you." I whisper but I don't think he heard me. I keep looking down as we walk to the school, thinking about what he said. 

"Wait. I don't want to go in there." I want to cry, I want to cry, I want to cry.

"Where are you going?"

I take a deep breath. Home. I want to go home so badly, but I have no home. Not anymore.

"Anywhere. You... just, go to class. I... I promise I'll stay around." I'm lying, obviously; that's the only thing I know too well.

"You don't want to go because you're tired or-" I interrupt him.

"I just don't want to go." I say harshly.

"I don't get you, you know? You tell me you care for me but then you treat me like the biggest shit in the entire world. Cassie, you need to understand that I'm not your fucking enemy, alright?" He lets go of my hand.

Fuck. I feel like something is missing. Can he hold my hand again, please?

"Yes but it's hard to understand. You don't get it neither, Harry. I. don't. need. help." I stare into his eyes, trying to make him believe me.

"The only thing you need right now is someone. You need help and I can give it to you, but you don't want it," He begins to walk away from me. "Think about it. I'll go." And as simple as it sounds, he's gone.

He is lying, right? I don't need help, I am fine.

I begin to walk back home. I know it's an stupid idea but I need to go back. I'll go back with John. I'm going to forget this last two days of my life. I'm going to forget that I have someone to trust in. I'm going to forget it all.

I take a cigarette. Come on, do it. I need it. 

You don't need that shit! It's killing you!

I inhale, trying to forget Harry's word. I bring the lighter to the end of my cigarette and light it. I inhale, taking some drags and then, I pull the cigarette away from my mouth.

As soon as I'm at home, I climb my tree.

The rational part of my brain, the positive one, is telling me that Harry will be disappointed, that I'm doing something wrong. But the other part of my brain, the negative one, is telling me that I need the cigarettes and the scars, as well as my starving habit. 

It's like the negative part always has so much more reasons to be depressed; and the positive part has only one reason to be happy - and that reason is as stupid as being happy.

I look at Harry's room, realising that I don't deserve him. He has a mother. He has a father. And as far as I can tell, he's happy.

I close my eyes, trying to shut the voices in my head.

I need to calm down. I need to relieve myself. I need one cut. That's what I need.

"Cassie..." I open my eyes abruptly, almost falling from the tree.

"Holy shit. What are you doing here? I thought you- you..." I see how Harry is looking at my hand, shaking his head as he exhales. I look down at my hand. Oh. The cigarette.

"I told you, you don't need that to live." His voice is suddenly harsh and cold.

Here we go again...