FIGHTING TO LIVE [H.S]

CHAPTER SIX

song: this is our life by Des Rocs

HARRY'S POV:

I wake up to screaming.

I hadn't planned on sleeping tonight but I guess at some point I had managed to crash on the couch out in the living room without knowing it.

Instantly, I'm awake and sitting upright on the couch, head pounding from the half a bottle of whiskey I downed before stumbling face-first onto the couch to take my unprecedented nap.

Even though everything seemed somewhat muted from the alcoholic haze I had awoken in, I was suddenly aware of the fact that the screams were not mine or Niall's, the only other boy who I shared this flat with.

They were hers.

Motherfucker.

And god were they loud.

I think she was trying to scream actual words out between all the yelling but I couldn't make anything real out from my position down the hall and hers behind the locked door.

As if right on cue, I watched Niall pop his head out from the doorway closest to my spot on the couch, his bleach blonde hair sticking in every direction and his face dripping confusion.

"What 'da hell?" He mutters sleepily, reaching up to rub his eyes as they adjusted to the dim light coming from the kitchen.

I groan in response, reaching for a nearby pillow to slam against my face. "I don't fucking know." I muffle into it.

"How do we shut her up?" He snaps back at me, probably eager to get back into bed with whatever random girl he brought back with him tonight. Who I can also probably bet passed out before he could kick her out, hence the bitchy attitude.

"I said how the fuck do we shut her up?" He says louder now.

God, Niall does not like his sleep to be interrupted.

I groan again into the pillow but mutter a quick, "I'll handle it." before Niall snaps a 'Thank you' and promptly retreats back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

He can really be such a bitch sometimes.

Somehow I manage to drag my hungover body up off the couch, kicking away the empty whiskey bottle I find laid out by my feet when I stand.

Nowadays, not only were things like alcohol ridiculously expensive, but it also wasn't very easy to get your hands on any in the first place. However, when you were someone like myself who happens to hold a lot of power in this 'new' world, the luxury of downing a bottle of liquor that probably costs more than some people's college education in today's money, was more of an everyday item.

I started to stumble down the short hallway that connected the various rooms in the flat and once I arrived at the door of my room, I could hear the screaming much clearer.

When I had first woken up on the couch, I assumed she was awake and just pointlessly screaming to be let out, even though we both knew that wasn't a possibility. But now, even through the door, it was clear that she was screaming in her sleep and was probably thrashing around violently in my bed.

I could make out her yelling things like, "Stop!" and "Don't leave!", along with various other desperate pleas.

Oh great, not only is she annoying but she's also mentally unstable.

No way was I going in there now.

As I leaned my body up against the door frame and pressed my forehead into the nearby wall, I brought my fist up to connect with the door, sharply banging on it repeatedly to make sure she heard me. I hoped that would shut her up quickly but the yelling continued.