Escape {Larry Stylinson/Doctor Who} NEW AU

Well, my nap ended up lasting the entire night. I woke up early for school, though, so I took a shower and now I plan on cooking a proper breakfast. As I round the corner to the living room, I find mum in the same spot as I left her: sprawled on the couch. The vodka bottle that was nearly gone last night, doesn’t even have a drop left. The only good thing about that is that she’ll be gone when I get home from school. That’s how it always works; she sleeps until two and leaves the house to get more liquor. If I’m lucky, she’ll stop at the market and get more food.

I walk over to the coffee table and collect the bottle, along with some food wrappers and dirty dishes. I balance the items in my arms until I reach the kitchen. I toss the garbage in the bin and quietly start to wash the dishes. Once everything is clean, I ransack the refrigerator, finding enough items to make a scarcely diverse omelet. I’m sure that if I don’t use these vegetables today, they’ll expire soon.

I heat a pan over the stove and quickly throw together enough food for me and mum. I set her omelet aside on a covered plate before eating my own and cleaning the kitchen. When I couldn’t find anything else to do before leaving, I wrote a note and left it on the coffee table.


Mum, I left you breakfast in the kitchen.
-H

Hopefully she sees it before it’s completely cold, but she can heat it up in that case.
I walk outside while the sun is still coming up. Normally Niall would be waiting by the sidewalk, kicking a few stones around until I came out. It’s too early for that, though. I won’t see anyone on my way to school. Most of the students my age at Holmes Chapel Academy have cars already. I’m seventeen, but I don’t even have my license yet. It doesn’t bother me much. My life could be worse; it really could. So, I just need to be thankful for what I have. Sure, it isn’t much, but I’m not starving and I do live in a house. Mum wasn’t always as terrible as she is now, but more on that later.

As I rounded the first street corner of three, I hear a strange noise in the distance. It sounds like a whirring, but it keeps getting stronger and weaker, pulsating back and forth. Down the foggy road, I can see a blinking light and I begin to walk a little faster. Between heavy bits of fog, I can make out a large blue box. It’s a bit bigger than the telephone booths they have in the city and it doesn’t have any windows. There’s a light on the top, which is still blinking, kind of like a lighthouse.

“Hello?”

No one answers me and I feel pretty silly calling out to no one in particular. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but something tells me that this is unusual and important. I walk quickly, but by the time I’m within twenty yards of it, the box makes the loud, screeching noise and fades away within five seconds.

Did I just imagine that? There’s no way it was real.

My hands and knees are shaking and I have a new motivation to get to school as quickly as possible. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. It wouldn’t be totally impossible. My sister, Gemma, always said that mum made her crazy after dad left. I don’t know if she was exaggerating, but it must have been enough to convince her to move to America.

I practically run the rest of the way to school and when I get there, a few students are arriving. As I cross the street to the school yard, I catch a glimpse of Niall in the passenger seat of Jackson’s car. I can’t believe that Niall is friends with him now. Jackson has picked on me since we were in grade 6. I’m pretty sure he’s even teased Niall before also.

I’ve passed them already when I feel the force of something hitting my backpack, followed by laughter and words like, “fag”, “dumb-ass”, and “queer”, that last word coming from a voice that’s too familiar. I pull my backpack off to find coffee dripping down. The cup is laying on the ground next to me and I feel burning tears attempting to surface. I look up and see Jackson and Niall, laughing like lunatics as I pick up the cup and toss it in the garbage. I pick up my bag and make eye contact with Niall. I don’t say anything, but he knows what I’m thinking. How could you do this to me? You were my best friend.


Flashback to the summer before grade 12 (current year):

“Niall? I-uh, I need to talk to you.”

Niall takes a sip of his lemonade and lies back in the grass. We’re in his back yard and the weather is absolutely perfect.

“Sure, HareBear. What’s up?”

I lie down next to him and rest my head on my folded arms behind me.

“It’s kind of a big deal, so like... I hope you can understand.”

Niall turns on his side so that he’s facing me, concern written all over his face.

“Of course. You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything!”

That’s the boost I need. I have to just spit it out now.

“I’m gay, Niall.”

His eyes widen in shock and he sits up instantly. He doesn’t say anything and I watch as he
starts to stand up. My heart races out of control, more so than it already was.

“Niall, wait! Please, just let me-“

“No! What the fuck, Harry? So, we aren’t just friends? Do you have some gay crush on me?”

It’s my turn to be offended and I stand up to be on the same level as him.

“What? No! Just because I like guys doesn’t mean I like every guy. It’s just a general statement.”

Niall scoffs and walks away, toward his house.

“Sure, Harry. I’m the only guy you talk to. You must have feelings for me-“

“No, I don’t, Ni! Stop being so full of yourself. I told you because I don’t want to hide who I am from
you. It’s not a confession of my undying love for you!”

Niall continues to walk, ignoring me completely.

“Niall, stop!”

I’m crying now; tears streaming down my face and the hiccups follow shortly after.

“Just leave, Harry. I don’t want to see you ever again. You disgust me.”

I fall to my knees when he slams the door behind him. I sit alone in his backyard for a couple
minutes, but soon find myself running home. The only problem with that is the array of questions my mum will have when I bolt in sobbing.


Back to present day:

Niall had to have told him. How else would Jackson know to call me those things when his threats were always free of homosexual insults before? I can’t believe Niall would treat me this way, but I’m really starting to get used to it. It’s only one less friend. Unfortunately, for me, that leaves me with no one else.

Notes