LOST AND STILL FINDING(larry stylinson)

HARRY’S P.O.V


I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about none other than Louis. Who else could it be? It had to be him on my mind after what I did in the morning. I should have resisted him. He seriously got to know that I’m gay and what if he moves out? What if he just runs away in the night. I was really worried. What if he really ran away? What if he wasn't gay? What if I’d be left here alone like always? What if he did not accept me? What if something bad happens? What if right now he just barged into the room and asked me the reason for kissing him? What if? What if?


WHAT IF?

These questions now occupied my head. I was really tensed up. But something inside me even told me that he wouldn’t leave. he was old enough to understand things though I called him a kid. That night I saw a similar pain inside him. I wanted to know that pain which was troubling him.

I really wanted to explore him. Maybe I could ask him tonight at the bar. No no no . not directly. Maybe he thinks I’m interfering? No I’m not gonna ask him. I hope he’ll tell me someday. But there is something about that miserable creature which is really familiar. What is it? Why do feel the pain in the exact way what had happened with me.

The things that happened with me in the past were something I had got over(but that is what my head thinks not my heart) with 2 years back when I decided to shift to this brand new place. Everytime that memory crossed my head I was left with nothing but tears and pain. The terrible 3 months of my life could’ve been the last ones if I had not been rescued from those bastards!

I was locked into a complete empty room. I was all sweaty on my skin though it was cold inside the room, it was the month of December. I was sitting in the corner of the room, naked. Yes naked. The room was completely empty not even my clothes could be seen so that I could cover up. I sat there crying ,howling, screaming, scratching the walls, shouting for help everytime I heard footsteps. But none helped. Evrytime it would be those 10 guys, muscular guys who would stand outside the room laughing. I would bang the door multiple times shouting, screaming and pleading them to open it up. But they never did. They would unlock the door only when they had to enter or exit.


They would enter sometimes one by one or all of them together and at once slide there pants down in front of me, where I sat in the corner. The guys would first tie my hands and stuff a cloth in my mouth so that I would not fidget a lot when they would be doing things to me.

“don’t be a bad pussy Harry, you anyways don’t like them!”

“c’mon blow me Harry, I know you like it always”

“dickheads aren’t appreciated by us anyway harry”

“we all know you like what we do to you, so just be a more cooperative”

“the faster you do it the faster we’ll leave you free”

They would say when they stood in front of me playing with there cocks. There were two men on me at a time. When the cloth was removed I dick was inserted forcing me to make them feel pleasurable. I would just cry. But they pulled my hair tightly so that I wouldn’t stop. The person behind me would forcibly bend me on my knees and enter me. Evertime it would hurt. Hurt very badly. Nobody could even imagine stuff what was going inside the room with me.

It wasn’t something that was happening for the first time. When my best friend NICK, NICK GRIMSHAW disclosed the secret of my sexuality in the university I was targeted the way I thought I would be. And I was. It had been three continuous years that I had been friends with him and I trusted him more than myself. I never knew he would do this to me. I trusted him so much that was what he gave me. I disclosed him every possible thing about myself. He was best mate anyone could ever get. But after what he did I couldn’t trust anybody.

My parents were rich enough to get the best room in the hostel. And I did. I was one of the richest guys at the university but I never showed pride in it. But they say ‘money can’t buy you happiness’. Nobody knew the meaning of it better than me.

The torture began the very night the students got to know about this. In my hostel room I was captured every night by those boys. I never gathered the courage to go and complain it to the authorities and anyway I was already warned by those muscular men not to complain otherwise the consequences would be worse. And I was scared. I stopped eating. I stopped going to the classes. Istopped talking. I stopped moving out. I stopped living. And for some I did not even exist and for some even if I existed I was only there to give them pleasure. Everynight the incidents repeated. The number of guys would increase. Sometimes there would be 15 guys kneeding on me.

There wasn’t a single night when I’d slept. In the day when I did not go for the classes I was trying to recover from what had happened and getting ready for what was gonna happen the coming night.

I had called my mum several times and explained her the whole thing,but she only thought that I was just giving excuses to get out of school. She never believed me. Maybe it was not at all her fault. Anybody could think that way.

I resisted but I was beaten up everytime. I would even scream. Those guys only wanted pleasure. Pleasure of a sadist. They never felt pity for me. I was just raped by those 10 men continuously for 3 months straight. And there wasn’t ever a night that I was free. Never.
I just wanted to meet Nick once and ask him why the hell did he had to do this to me and I would beat the shit out of him. But I never saw him again after that night. He vanished of to somewhere. I don’t know why.

I was locked in that room naked for 3 consecutive nights. that was the only time they didn't rape me. The school authorities only noticed when I didn’t attend school for two weeks straight. I would’ve just died there if this would go on for another night. Because I wasn’t even in a condition to face up don’t even ask me about standing up. How would I walk up to the class. I was miserable.

The night I was rescued from that room which was in a secluded place of the building I wasn’t happy at all. I couldn’t even stand on my feet that night. My bones peeped out of my skin. I hadn’t eaten properly from the past 3 months. What else do you expect? My tears also didn’t fall down after a few days of torture. It was all a habit. When I was laid down flat on a stretcher by help of four men I was met by flashlights. Yes media was here and I heard my mom, dad and gemma call out my name when I was placed inside the ambulance. But that was something going on in the background with me. It was all playback. I was in trauma.i didnt open my eyes the moment i was taken out of the room.

Complete trauma. Something of this kind could only be imagined or not even that. My tears did not even fall down the night I was rescued. My treatment went on for 2 months in a luxurious hospital. Sometimes I would over hear the doctors discussing about my recovery. but I could never open my eyes to tell them that I actually wanted to and experience life in a nicer and a more better way. They usually said I wasn’t responding to their treatments and then my mother would shout at them to do something to get me back and then she would just fall down on the ground screaming.

Later when I asked mum the whole thing, she told me I was in coma for 50 days or you could say around 1 and a half months. And yeah that is why I always felt excluded from the real world.

But I knew I had already lost myself way back and there was no chance at all getting me back from where I had gone and got lost. I would wake up sometimes when I would hear my mom sobbing next to me on my shoulder and I would cup her face in my hand wiping of her tears.

“I’m really sorry harry. I know I should’ve heard your words. I’m really sorry. I’m not even worth
a sorry harry”

She would say every time. But I would just nod and tell her not to blame herself or anybody. All fault as mine. I never knew being a gay was such a punishment in my society.

After my treatment was completely over and I was well enough to live a normal lifestyle and decided to shift to a new place after a few months and my parents understood it really well this time. and I was here.

Right now I was in tears again. After my memories covered me up. The things I’ve always wanted to forget never seemed to leave. I was crying really badly this time as I needed somebody to pick my pieces up for me. I was tired doing this alone for a while. I got up from the bed wiping of my tears and headed to a drawer as I opened my cupboard. I found it. I always done this everytime it would come back to me.

I took out the shiny little pointed this and placed it flat on my wrist, the pointed side piercing into my skin like everytime. There were so many familiar scars on my skin from the past times. This was just going to add up to them. I few drops of blood from my wrists fell onto the floor.

But I did not care. I scratched a multiple of times on my both wrists as I would squeek a little everytime. But this was just addicting. Really addicting. It helped me everytime in such situations. I stepped back and fell onto the bed my wrists hanging free in the air and my head dug into the pillow as I cried out loud one for the last time. I tried to keep it low, but it wasn’t, so that Louis did not hear me.


The thought of louis hearing me got me tensed and I got up to enter the bathroom to wash of every thing. I placed my wrists under the tap water as they rinsed off the blood.i watched the red colored water drain down the hole. And then I washed off my face. I looked terrible. My eyes were puffy and my hair very untidy. I try placing them nicely but it did not help. I stood there staring at myself for about 5 mins and then I walked out of my room towards louis’. I went over to the kitchen first to have a glass of water.

I walk over to louis’ room and call out his name louder after clearing off my throat.

“ LOUIS?” here came no reply. I wondered why? I call out again

“LOUIS?” silence. I enter in.

“why aren’t—“ I heard him snoring silently on the couch and I smile gently. He looked so cute. So peacefull. so calm. So gentle. So pure. Like if any evil spirit touched hi would just burn away. I saw the box open lying there on the table. I walked over to him. I place my hand slowly under his nick which on the back rest and my other hand under his thighs. I picked him up bridal style. he shifted a bit getting comfortable in my arms. And I liked it. I place him slowly and silently onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his chest. His eyes looked a bit puffy right now. I don’t know why?

I stood there staring at the beauty. He looked so calm when he slept. I hadn’t seen such a gods creation in my entire life till now. and I know I never will. Coz god was right there in front of me.

It was so beautiful. I bent over him a little and placed a light kiss on his forehead before brushing my hands through his hair. It felt so good. Everytime I touched him it felt that I was getting purified inside. Every touch would sparkle something inside me. I liked his touch so much. I wanted it more and more.

I tried not to stand there too long as I thought he might catch me. I switch of the lights and walk out of the room . I decided to go to the party alone. I’ll tell the lads he was asleep. I couldn’t ruin my friends’ plans again. They would for sure this time seriously kill me.


I headed out of the house and after 3 mins I was inside my car pulling out for the bar where my friends were eagerly waiting for me. I was too excited for the thing. Not really the party but I needed the feel which would make me feel better and help me forget. The turning of steering wheel made my wrists hurt but I didn’t mind. It was usual for me to feel that way. I needed the cold liquid through my throat. My tattoos were there on my skin only because I couldn’t make anybody else understand the reasons why would I hurt myself or why would others hurt me.I couldn’t even if they wanted to. Getting inked was the best option to save myself from long explanations.


I got out of the car after parking outside the bar near the parking area and walked into the bar. I saw my friends enjoying at the party as they were already busy with some other guests. I directly over to them and hug them tightly one by one.

“where’s that other lad?” niall asks looking aound for him behind me.

“he was a bit too tired and he fell off to sleep. So” I inform them.

“you look terrible” zayn says obviously noticing the tension and my swollen puffy eyes.

“nothing zayn, It’s just I was up for routine work” I say not clearly knowing what to say.

“but you looked just fine in the afternoon” he said still not convinced. I did not want to clarify anything to zayn right now. other guys didn’t bother much and I was glad about it.

“what if we have a shot game? Like we’ve always had?” I say completely ignoring the thing and changing the topic. Liam and Niall got really excited and zayn was still a little confused. But we all ran to the bar counter at once. I order 2 rows of 10 shots each.

“so who’s up for the competition first?” I say getting really excited to feel the cold tingling liquid inside my throat. Liam quickly comes and stands beside me to get ready for the thing.

“1, 2, 3 and here we go” I shout louder than the music which was being played.
We immediately start tossing down and emptying shot glasses inside our mouths. I wasn’t anyway going to lose. The first shot then the second then the third and it went on till the 10 shot. Within less than 20 seconds it was down under my throat and that liquid just felt perfect somehow. It made me feel the way I wanted to right now.

“yayayayyy, I win I win I win” I scream and shout as liam completed his last one just a second later than me.

“u’ve always did harry. So this means I’m still the winner!! None of you will ever make me lose” I say as I knew I always won over them whenever we had such competitions at the bar.

“so who’s next?” I ask pointing towards niall and zayn.

“me” said niall as he got off from the bar counter and jumped off on the floor.

“2 rows of 10 tequila shots please” I ask the waiter and they were placed in front of me on the counter.

“1,2,3 and here we go”
It was the same result again. I won but this time I was completely sunk into the mood of drinking more and more and not stopping at all. The pain inside me from the previous moments rise and my scars began to hurt. This one reaction made me go for another 10 shots with Zayn and I won again.

This time I wasn’t able to think straight. I went over to the dance floor to shake a leg. I pushed myself into the crowd without even caring that I did not have a partner.

Notes

sorry guys for a late update. i have my exams coming up so things might get delayed. but i'm sure i'll keep updating every 2-3 days. don't worry guys. i will update, i promise.
love you!!!!
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