Spoiler
This is the fastest I have ever written a chapter! It took me about two hours give or take which means it needs a lot of work! Especially... well all of it. I haven't quite decided if this is the end of the chapter or not but I desperately needed the feeback of you lovely people 
Spoiler
Also, as I forgot to mention this earlier ... Harry is 19! not some weird 40 year old guy 
just saying!
just saying!Chapter Six: Harry’s Story
BANG!
I was awoken the next morning as the noise thundered through the little shop, shaking the floors. I pulled the pillow tightly over my head and tried to get back to sleep. I had been having such a nice peaceful sleep.
CRASH!
What on earth was going on? I checked the clock Harry had hung on my wall yesterday evening when I complained that I wouldn’t know when to get up. The display told me that it was six o’clock. Harry didn’t strike me as much of an early bird. It had been hard enough to convince him to drag his bones off the sofa last night after he had fallen asleep.
BANG!
I threw the covers off me and shivered slightly. The sun was creeping slowly behind the makeshift curtains I had placed against the window. Pulling them back I could see the sky; a brilliant shade of powder blue without a cloud in sight, I could see that it was going to be a beautiful day. I threw on a jumper and a pair of socks and headed out into the corridor.
THUNK!
SMASH!
‘OW!’
I followed the cry of pain and found myself stood outside Harry’s room where I could hear muffled curses and moans from behind the closed door. I contemplated what to do next. I hadn’t seen inside Harry’s room yet; he had left it out of his hastened tour last night and I wasn’t sure whether it was because I wasn’t hallowed in or he had simply not thought it was necessary to show me. I tapped hesitantly on the cheap pine and waited. There was a sudden hush inside but the door was not opened.
‘Harry?’ I called as I knocked again, ‘Are you in there?’
No response.
I tried the handle carefully; the door was unlocked. Pushing it open slowly, I stuck my head around the gap and peered in. Harry lay panting on his makeshift bed which consisted of a big, upturned, wooden crate, a pillow and a single blanket.
Other than that, the room was bare.
I stared nonplussed at the empty space. My cramped room was cosy in comparison to this! Harry had assured me that he had plenty of supplies and that I was taking anything. I wandered uncertainly over to the window at the far end of the room. Even the curtains were ragged and torn, as though claws had been sunk deeply into them and the walls were old and dented. A low moan reminded me of Harry’s presence and I wheeled around to see that his fist was clamped to his chest and blood was oozing out of an enormous gash in his bare upper body.
‘Christ Harry!’ I exclaimed, ‘what the hell are you doing?’
He looked up sharply, still nursing his injured torso.
‘It hurts,’ he said plainly.
‘I can see that! What happened?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing!?’ I all but shrieked at him, ‘there’s blood pouring out of your hand!’
‘Ah yes,’ he said matter-of-factly ‘be a good girl and fetch me a cloth would you? I think there’s one in the sink.’
‘A cloth? That won’t do much good! We need to call an ambulance or get you a - ’
‘Ash,’ he interrupted me swiftly, ‘a cloth will be fine, just go and find me one please.’
I ran out of the door, hurtled into the front room and began rooting around in cupboards near the sink. I searched through boxes and buckets that cluttered the cabinets. It was almost impossible to see anything in there.
‘It’s going to be ok Harry,’ I called desperately, willing myself to believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. ‘You’ll be just fine, you wait and see.’
Where was that damn cloth?
I was starting to feel faint. The image of Harry was still lodged firmly in my mind, blood seeping out of him like a red river gushing in torrents down his body. I wasn’t usually squeamish, but this was different. The kitchen swam in and out of focus and black dots were appearing at the edges of my vision. My hands were shaking as I finally withdrew a ragged cloth from the bottom of one of the buckets.
‘I’ve got one!’ I yelled, ‘hang in there Harry!’
I raced back into his room and thrust the towel into his arms. His hands were covered in blood and I tried to avoid looking at his chest.
‘Ash,’ he said, ‘you can look now. I’m fine, see?’
I stared at the wall, back still turned.
‘Ashling,’ he whispered gently, ‘turn around and see for yourself.’
I pivoted slowly on the spot, my hands clasped firmly over my eyes in case he was lying. I peered slowly through the gaps in my fingers, ready to close my eyes at the first sign of torrential blood.
There was none.
I put down my hands and gaped at the place where the gash had been. All that was left was a small red cut and a few trickles of blood that Harry was mopping up with the cloth I had brought him. He smirked at me.
‘You look like a frog when your eyes pop like that,’ he chuckled.
‘But…’ I stuttered, ‘I saw you only five minutes ago, there was a giant hole in your chest!’
‘What can I say? I heal quickly. It comes in pretty useful when you live like we do.’ He shrugged nonchalantly.
‘Nu-uh,’ I shook my head. ‘No one heals that quickly, it’s just not possible. It’s not… well it’s not human.’
Harry took one of my hands from my side and held it carefully to his chest. I could feel the steady beating of his heart under my palm.
‘If that doesn’t prove to you that I’m as human as you, I don’t know what will.’ He lowered my hand but still kept hold of it as he swung his legs around and got up off the bed. ‘Come on, let’s go and get some breakfast, losing that amount of blood really takes It out of you.’ He looked at me and saw my expression. ‘Sorry, no more blood talk.’ With that he pulled me into the kitchen and sat me down at the table.
‘You’ve made a right mess in here Ash,’ he noted as he opened the fridge, weren’t you ever taught to clean up after yourself?’ He turned his head to wink at me. ‘What does the princess require for breakfast this morning?’
I raised my eyebrows at the nickname,‘I don’t mind.’
‘Bacon it is, I picked some up yesterday before we left,’ Harry pulled a pack of bacon out of the fridge and then he began to cook. It was a strange thing to watch as he put the rashers in the fry pan and put some bread in an old toaster, his masculine façade seemed different. The smell of the cooking meat soon wafted across the room. I inhaled deeply; it was a long time since I had smelled something so delicious with the knowledge that I would be eating it.
Harry tossed the cooked bacon onto some toast and reached for a brown bottle on the shelf.
‘Sauce?’ He inquired as he ladled it onto his own plate. ‘I’d offer you ketchup but with the events of this morning I’m guessing you’re not feeling too big on the red at the moment?’
I winced. ‘You got it, no sauce today.’
He passed my plate along. ‘Here you go, breakfast a la Harry.’
I lifted the food to my lips and took a huge bite. The warm taste filled my whole mouth and my taste buds rejoiced. It didn’t matter that the toast was slightly burnt or that the bacon wasn’t of the highest quality. I had learnt not to be picky; to me this food was the best I had ever tasted.
I finished the mouthful in a matter of moments and took another, and another. Soon the food was all gone and I sat back, satisfied.
Harry laughed at the pleased look on my face. ‘From the way you look right now you’d think I was Jamie freaking Oliver.’
He smiled and then looked serious. ‘How does a girl like you end up on the streets anyway?’
I remained silent.
‘I was just wondering,’ Harry said quickly, ‘you don’t have to answer. Just forget I said it ok?’
‘Don’t worry,’ I assured him, ‘I’m not mad, I’m just trying to decide how to answer. I haven’t thought about my life before the streets in a long time and in truth, I can’t quite remember why I left. Things just build up, you know? I just remember thinking I’d had enough, and then it was time to leave.’
I glanced up from the table that I had been directing my words to, and saw that Harry was watching me with an odd look on his face.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’ He rearranged his features back to normal and smiled at me.
‘So why are you out here?’ I asked. ‘Your story must be way more interesting than mine.’
‘It’s not really.’
‘Come on,’ I hedged, ‘you know mine.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’ve got time.’
I waited, suddenly realising that I could be pushing him too far. After all, we didn’t know each other too well and he might not have wanted to talk about it. I opened my mouth to apologise, and to change the subject so that he didn’t feel awkward anymore. Before I could do so, however, he had begun to speak in a distant voice, as though he was remembering a far off time.
‘When I was born I was a disappointment to my parents; having already had my brother they both craved a girl to put into dance recitals and buy little princess outfits for. AS I grew older I heard them planning to try for a girl but when I was ten my mother became severely ill. She was in hospital every other day and soon became very weak. The doctors told her that she had few months to live.’
He took a deep breath and continued.
‘She was the only thing preventing my father from throwing me out. She didn’t love me, but couldn’t bear the thought of the gossip that would circulate if I suddenly vanished. My father didn’t care about gossip, he wanted me gone.’
‘My brother started to change when he was fifteen. He was never home and we would here strange stories on the news of someone who had pushed over cars and buses singlehandedly. They never caught the stranger whom they deemed ‘indestructible’ but we knew it was Simon. When my mother died my father left with Simon to try and get him looked at, to find out what was wrong with him. They left me with my Uncle and I never heard from them again.’
‘My Uncle hated me. I was a slave in my own house with no way of getting out. Sometimes I even craved the company of my father who, even with his many faults had been at least five times better than my Uncle. He worked me hard every day after school and all through the weekends. I was made to mow the lawn, polish his hunting trophies and muck out the horses. He acted as If he could do nothing for himself.’
‘Lazy git,’ I muttered.
‘One night, I had been unable to clean the windows to his ridiculously high standards and he came in bellowing at me that I was going to get the biggest beating of my life, that he had given me a roof over my head and put food on my plate and I wasn’t repaying him. I was too scared to run but terrified to stay. He advanced on me with a belt and began hitting me with all the strength he could muster, yelling about the disappointment and failure I would surely become.’
‘At that point something in my head snapped. My eyes went white hot and I could feel my hands getting stronger. The look on my Uncle’s face was exactly how I mine had been. Pure terror.’
He grinned.
‘Then I exploded, I can’t really remember the details. I left his body on the floor and ran out. Not bad for a fourteen year old.’
‘You killed him? I asked, stunned.
‘It wasn’t my finest hour,’ he grimaced,’ and I’m not saying I’m proud of it but it gave me my freedom.’ He put his hand on mine and looked at me.
‘You still want to stay now that you know my gruesome past?’
I smiled. ‘Well as long as you aren’t planning on killing me?’
A look of shock crossed his face and he withdrew his hand sharply.
‘I’m kidding!’ I laughed at his open mouth and wide eyes. ‘Don’t be so sensitive.’
‘That wasn’t funny!’ But his face relaxed as he said this.
‘It was too funny,’ I told him. ‘You’re not the only one who can tease people around here you know?’ I inspected his eyes
closely to check that I was excused. I was.
‘What do you want to do today?’ he asked me as I began collecting the plates and running the water to wash
them. ‘We’ve got enough food in the house for the rest of the week so we don’t need to patrol the market today.’
‘I haven’t got any ideas,’ I admitted truthfully, ‘Getting food’s all I’ve really had to think about on the streets up until now and the market is the only place I’ve been. I’m afraid I don’t know of anything we can do.’
‘Well that won’t do will it?’ Harry spun me to face him and put his hands on the edge of the sink behind me. ‘What to do…’ he breathed slowly. He leaned in closely and I could feel his breath against my cheek.
SMASH!
A plate clattered off the draining board and crashed to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.
‘Shit.’ I swore loudly and bent to pick up the shards of porcelain from the wooden floor, my red face hidden from view.
‘Don’t worry about it’, Harry laughed. I go through so many I always have a few spares. C’mon, lets go for a walk. I’ll
show you the … wonders of the town.’
I raised my eyebrows and followed him out of the front door.
