CHAPTER 2- HARRY DEAR
“Dinner!” Harry’s young deep voice called up the stairs- then came the thunder. The thunder of ten pairs of feet storming downstairs in a horrific rush. Ten hungry mouths desperate to bury themselves in whatever charity food we had to eat tonight. I wasn’t a fan, but I knew it was the best we could get. I mean we would all be in prison if we weren’t kids with ‘problems’ big enough to deserve a sort of clemency. Was I grateful? Yes. Did I want it? No. not for me. I mean hey I really admired Harry and everyone and what they were trying to do, but I’d rather just someone kill me and be done with it. They don’t even do that to people my age in Texas.
I slowly dragged myself downstairs and took my usual seat next to Harry. It was an unofficial rule; the craziest bitches had to sit next to boss man. I didn’t mind it. I’d rather that than sit with the pickpocket twins. Those two have been stealing since the age of 3, and good at it, besides being the most annoying creatures god every invented. I think there was a problem at the factory and they were too monstrous for him to fix so he just wanted to sit it out until they died and he could send them to hell. What am I saying; I don’t even believe in god. Hell yes, god no. I mean my family always had, small town, you know how it goes. People go to church every Sunday, say their prayers every night. But to be honest none of the younger generation really bought into it. Even some of my old friends’ parents didn’t really believe that anymore. We all just went along to church anyway, listening to things we didn’t believe in. Story of the world right?
Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t one of those ‘hate everyone with a faith’ kind of people. People got a right to believe what they will. They got a right to pray to whoever they want, in my opinion. But I don’t buy into it myself. To me faith was an invention so people didn’t have to deal with reality. Don’t blame the guys either, who wouldn’t want to believe that all the crimes we commit will be forgotten, and that no matter how poor we are, or how shitty a life we lead, we’ll live in pure luxury when we die, if you catch my drift. But to me that is all that is, a belief that some people have. I wish I had a faith. You can’t force yourself to believe something. At least I don’t think you can, anyways.
“How was school?” Harry says to me as our meal of shitty spaghetti bolognaise was served up. All I could see was a cow on a plate.
“Fine.”
“Oh dear, what happened?”
“Nothing. Same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and the day…”
“Understood. You look tired. Sleep much last night?” Harry took a special interest in my sleeping habits. He always asked about all of this kind of stuff when I got home to try and compensate for the fact that he was tortured by an attraction for me that he could never legally fulfill. Poor Harry, almost felt sorry for the guy.
“Do I ever? Just been a long day that’s all.” I picked at my food. He kept his eyes on my plate as I ate one mouthful of spaghetti and put my fork down.
“Not eating?”
“Not hungry.” Harry sighed and ran his hands through his short black hair.
“Aoife, you know you can talk to me. Is everything alright?” Normally he wouldn’t speak so seriously to me in front of everyone else, but they were too busy shoving a minced cow covered tomato sauce down their throats to notice, or care for that matter.
“I’m fine Harry.”
“I hate when you use that word. Tells me nothing.”
“And you wanna know everything I get it. But honestly, I’m fine. Drop it.”
“Okay that’s fine. Whatever.” He tried to be nonchalant as he folded his arms and pretended to be very interested in the ceiling before staring at me out of the corner of his eye again. Harry was lovely really, but I didn’t want his pity. I couldn’t care less if the guy never spoke to me again. In fact I couldn’t care less if no one ever spoke to me again. I was the only one who knew the truth, making me the only company I would ever need until the day I died.
When everyone else had finished eating I screeched my seat backwards, brought my plate into the kitchen and ran upstairs again. But it wasn’t long before Harry was knocking on my door.
“Aoife? Can I come in?” Another unofficial rule: all male staff must knock before entering the psychopathic girlies bedrooms. Didn’t matter much about the guys though. The worst that could happen was Harry would walk in on Creepy Colin ripping the heart out of a bunny. I mean its crazy some of the stuff he does, what did that bunny ever do to him?
“Yeah whatever.” I grumbled turning my iPod up in preparation for something very long and boring. Harry beat me to the punch though by unplugging my headphones. He knew I hated that, but he was the one person on the planet who wasn’t afraid of me. I didn’t know whether it was an overdose of testosterone or whether he just thought he understood the tumultuous nature of my mind too well to fall for my aggressive façade.
“Harry dear, you know how I hate that.”
“Yes I know, why you think I do it?” he smiled before looking down and looking up at me again, a solemn look on his face. “Aoife… you’ve seemed a little… distant lately. Has anything happened? In school or anything?”
“I told you earlier…”
“Yeah but, anything maybe you didn’t wanna talk about at the dinner table?”
“No. everything’s fine Harry, relax.” He sighed.
“It’s just you haven’t eaten a proper meal all week.”
“I never ate much in the first place.”
“I know but… you barely eat anything. And you don’t sit downstairs anymore. Not that you did much anyway but… when we’re watching that program you like, supernatural is it, the one with the “hot” guys you comment on.” I laughed. They were seriously fit. In my head they understood my life. I knew they were just actors though. Shame.
“I just haven’t felt like it. That’s all Harry.”
“Why haven’t you felt like it?”
“I’ve been… Tired I guess. It’s not a big deal.”
“So you’ve said. But why have you been tired?”
“Because I haven’t been sleeping. Let me guess your next question will be but why haven’t you been sleeping?” I laughed. Harry looked more serious. “I just haven’t alright? Not tired.”
“I thought you said you were tired.”
“I am, during the day.”
“That makes no sense Aoife.”
“Tell me about it. You wanna get out now?” I riased my eyebrows at him as a hint.
“No. Aoife you have to tell me if something is wrong. I’m worried about you. Luke’s been talking to me.” I groaned. “Just hear me out Aoife. He says you haven’t been eating at school either. And that you haven’t been listening in your classes. He says you have barely even been speaking to him.”
“Harry, just drop it. Nothing is wrong. Nothing more than the fact that I’m a convicted killer and will spend the rest of my life being told I am a monster when I have done nothing. Don’t you think I have the right to be… what word was it you used? Distant? Now and again. Just leave me alone Harry I don’t wanna hear it.” He was about to speak but then covered his mouth and slowly stood up. He ran his hands through his hair. He did that for either of two reasons. He was either nervous or worried, although right now I think he may have been both. I wishes he wouldn’t care so much. He and Luke were as bad as each other. As he left the room he turned.
“You know Aoife, Luke and I care about you. Even if you think no one else does. We’re here for you. Please remember that.” Classic guilt trip. They never worked on me. I didn’t feel guilt anymore. I didn’t feel remorse or happiness or regret or love. I didn’t feel anything anymore. I had decided not to speak to Luke tomorrow for snitching on me. An hour of that would drive him crazy so he would have to apologize and it would be unlikely he’d do it again. He hated when I starved him of my wit and epic conversational skills.
I plugged in again and lay back on my bed and started listening to something fast and old fashioned by Panic. Friends in holy places maybe? I liked this song. It blocked out everything. A bit cynical maybe, but it was funny. I enjoyed funny. Shame the song was so short really. I guess I was more tired than I thought, because I fell asleep pretty soon after that, and woke up again at 2, before settling myself with some slow rhythmic song from Hans Zimmer. One of those beautiful romantic things without words because no words were necessary. I was no romantic, I didn’t believe in love and happiness anymore. But songs like that allowed me a moment or two of fantasy, before my mind would float upon more insidious things. Before my mind would see reality.
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