So I'm really sorry it took me so long to update! I've been busy with classes for the past week and I'm sorry if you think this chapter sucks.

By the way can I just say I was screeching because I saw a video from one of the boys concerts recently and HARRY'S SINGING THE THEME SONG FROM FRIENDS AND KAY AND HARRY BOTH LOVE THAT SHOW IN THE STORY AND I WAS JUST WOW OKAY NO I'M DONE.

Anyways, more votes means faster updates!

And thank you for 21k reads! (:

Enjoy (:

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KAYDENCE

My breathing finally starts to calm down as my head rests on Harry's bare chest. His hand is softly rubbing my back as we both lay on the bed, I let out a deep breath and lift my hand to wipe my damp eyes.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks above me.

"Yeah." I croak.

We both lay there in silence, while Harry continues to rub my back. It was odd how much his touch was comforting me and I clung to him. I couldn't believe I had told him the truth. It was hard, and the whole time I was thinking he was going to not want me anymore, but here he still was.

"Can I ask you something?" He broke the silence and interrupted my thoughts.

"Sure."

"How did your mum not know?"

I sighed, and shrugged my shoulder. "She stopped paying attention when her and my dad started fighting. He didn't get home till the middle of the night and I don't know...She just never noticed."

"What happened after that night, between you and her?"

I ran my index finger around his tattoo on his chest. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

He moved over, and sat up. I rolled onto the pillow, blinking up at him as he ruffled his hair and looked at me with concern. "Kay, I want to know everything."

"I did tell you everything." I said, throwing my hands into the air.

He shook his head, his hair shaking around his ears. "No, you told me what happened with your dad. But what happened after? In the hospital and up until what had happened with your brother?"

I look down and unconsciously run my finger over the scar on my wrist, then look back up at Harry, and sigh when I can see he won't give up on it.

"I got depressed." I say when Harry nudges my leg.

"Depressed?" He asks, his eyes growing more concerned.

"Yeah... My mom didn't tell the doctor it was my dad who raped me."

"What?" Harry says incredulously. "Why the hell would your mum lie about something like that?"

I shrug. "I guess she didn't want to believe it, but I still don't know to this day."

Harry raises one perfect eyebrow at me. "You didn't tell the doctors the truth?"

"What was I suppose to say? 'Hey doc, it was my dad who cut my wrist, oh and raped me too.' " I laugh to myself sarcastically.

"Stop," he shakes his head and rubs his jaw. "Don't talk about it like it's a joke or its no big deal, I hate that."

"Harry, I know it's not a joke. But I've learned to deal with it."

"So you laugh?" There goes the eyebrow. "Why would you laugh about it?"

"It's better to laugh then cry." I say simply.

"No, actually it's not. It's healthy to let it out, to scream or cry about it. Holding it in will only make you bitter."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "We're going off topic here. What else do you want to know?"

He moves to sit farther up on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. "How depressed were you after you left the hospital?"

I stare up at the ceiling as I think back to those really dark days. "Pretty depressed. I didn't come out of my room for a month. I didn't eat, sleep, I didn't speak to anyone. Not even my mom or brother, I didn't go to school for that month either. I felt worthless and wanted to give up."

"Give up?" I can tell by the shake in his voice he's afraid of what that might mean.

"Yeah. I wanted to die. But my mom took me to a psychiatrist and I was put on medication to help with the depression. It helped a little, it made me more energized and little more open. The thing is though even though it's making you feel a little better, you don't forget what happened. They should make something like that though, something that will make you forget."

I can see him looking down at me, but I choose to ignore him and continue staring at the ceiling.

"Anyways, since it didn't help me forget, I wanted to feel something physical. I tried to cut myself," I see him flinch from the side of my eye. "But I didn't. I couldn't go through with it. I kept seeing my dad cutting me and I wasn't able to do it. I was so mad at myself I started screaming at the fact that I couldn't push the damn blade in. My mom and Danny came in, and they saw what I was trying to do. I started telling them how I need to feel pain, I needed to forget what my dad did, but I was too much of a wimp to do it. Danny turned to my mom and started talking to her, then my mom grabbed me and dragged me out of the house. She put me in the car, and drove me to a tattoo parlor."

Harry runs his fingers through my hair spread out on the pillow. "You got a tattoo when you were twelve?"

"No. She pulled me out of the car, and when we walked in she turned me to face her and said 'Kay, how would you like to get a belly ring?' I thought she was kidding at first, but when I saw she wasn't I said yes. So I got it pierced and it hurt. It helped with needing to feel pain and I felt better."

"But doesn't that just make you want more?"

I shrug. "I don't know, I didn't feel the need again for awhile. I was getting better and taking things day by day. I didn't have friends at school because I didn't like people being too close to me, and I didn't want them to know what happened. When I got to high school, Danny ditched his friends and hung out with me at lunch so I didn't have to sit alone. The first week of freshman year is when I felt that need again."

"What happened?" He asks softly.

"I was walking to my locker, and some sophomore started hitting on me when I walked by him. I ignored him at first, but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me against the locker. I saw him leaning forward to say something to me but all I really was seeing was my dad pushing me down on the bed and leaning over me. I started freaking out, and Danny came running down the hallway. He nailed the guy in the face and told him to never touch me again. I was having a panic attack and he took me home, when I got home I told my mom I need the pain again and she took me to get my noise pierced."

"Were those the only times? Where you needed to feel the pain?"

I shook my head. "No, there were other times but I didn't want anymore piercings. I tried multiple times to cut myself but I just couldn't do it. Danny found me again once trying and he saw how frustrated I was with myself. He hugged me and told me the best way to handle it was to just deal with it. That I can't replace pain with pain, so I don't know, I deal with it."

He looks down at me, his eyes wide and full or worry. "You mean you still feel that way?"

"Yes. But I live it with it."

Harry scoots down on the bed, laying his head next to mine. "What happened after that?"

I grin and nudge his arm. "I found One Direction."

Harry smiles widely, and winks at me. "Go on."

"I found you guys, and I loved your music. It made me feel better about myself and just put me at peace with everything. Danny made fun of me all the time because I was in love with a boy band and he would draw on the posters I had of you guys hanging in my room. I got so pissed off whenever he did that."

His body shakes from laughter. "I hope he didn't draw on my face."

"Oh he did." I laugh lightly, then stop as I think about what happened soon after. "And you already know what happened after that."

Harry quiets down next to me, and we both stare up at the ceiling. "Did anything else happen, after the accident?" He asks quietly.

I shake my head. "No, my mom began to hate me, and here I am now."

He lets out a breath, then reaches his hand up to push his hair off his forehead. "That's a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it." I say sarcastically.

He looks at the side of my face, and scoots closer to me. "I'm serious about what I said before you know, you shouldn't be so bitter and cold."

"It's who I am."

"No, love. It's not. You're like this cause you're still holding onto that pain."

"What would you like me to do? Bring the blade to my wrist? I've tried that, remember?"

"STOP." He says angrily. I shut my mouth and watch as he rubs his face in agitation. "Don't ever say that again."

"Sorry." I whisper.

He removes his hands from his face, and turns on his side to look at me. "You need to allow yourself to heal."

"I'm trying." I say, exasperated.

"Are you?"

I think about it, then look him in the eye. "I'm laying here with you, aren't I?"

He smirks, and kisses the tip of my nose, pulling me by the waist closer to his chest. "Yeah you are."

I giggle as I cuddle up to him, and take In his vanilla scent. He rubs my back again, making my eyes start to flutter.

"Can you promise me one thing?"

"Mhmm." I mumble.

"Promise me you'll never give up." He says into my hair, his voice shaky.

My eyes shoot open, and I lean up on my elbow to see his eyes glazed over, and filled with worry and fear. I smooth out the crease in his forehead and lightly kiss his lips.

"I promise."

(Any ideas on what you want to happen next? Let me know!)