The Beginning Of The End by Natalie Holmes (read the beginning after the end novel .txt) 📕

the lid off the top one.

Harlow sighed serenely as she fingered the beading of the silk dress folded neatly in the box, she gently lifted it out and put it beside her, she smiled fondly, looking into the box at the rest of the clothes in it and then replaced the lid. She then opened the second box and retrieved one of the pairs of shoes out of it, A pair of cream ballet flats which tied round the ankle with a piece of ribbon. Deciding to forgo the jewellery in the third, smaller, box she stacked them up and lifted them back onto the shelf and pushed them along, out of view. She then leant down to pick up the dress; it was icy blue with spaghetti straps and pearly coloured beads covering the sweetheart neckline, forming a pattern that reminded Harlow of inverted ocean waves. She slid the dress over her head and let it tumble softly over her body, the cold silk caressed her skin and sent Goosebumps shivering up her arms, she ran her hands down the length of the dress and smiled to herself. Harlow stepped in to the ballet shoes and tied the ribbons round her ankles into a bow.

She looked into the mirrored panel of the wardrobe door and felt all tension and stress leaving her body. She usually avoided the full length mirror - apart from to do a quick check of her appearance before she left for school - but when she wore these clothes, she felt like a different person, she looked like a different person, so she didn't mind seeing herself reflected there, it was like looking at a picture of the person she wanted to be. The dress hugged her upper body snugly to the waist, before hanging gracefully off her hips in a swathe of fabric to her knees accentuating the minimal curves she had; the colour was a complete contrast to her dark, almost black hair and made her eyes look like molten silver.

Harlow wished she had the confidence to where theses clothes in public, but she hated the thought of being looked at, scrutinized and judged, especially by the other students at her school, which was exactly why she wore clothes that made her fade into the background. She felt better than she had all day, and was now eager to lose herself in her little ramshackle haven. She parted her clothes as best she could to make a little opening, and stepped over the various boxes and shoes that lay under the clothes hung on the bar, together the boxes and clothes created a wall that partitioned off the space at the back of the wardrobe.

The small void was supposed to be for storage, but long ago Harlow cleared it out, put up the makeshift wall made out of her belongings and kept the space behind to hide the things she didn't want anyone - most of all her mother - to know about. Reaching behind her she closed the wardrobe door and pushed the clothes back into the space she had created, closing herself in completely. She savoured the moment of absolute darkness for a while before running her hand blindly across the wall until she reached the push light she had stuck to the wall, the small enclosure brightened a little, she then turned on the rest of the push lights, there were six of them altogether and the small lights merged together to give out a warm glow.

The floor was lined with various pillows and sheets to make it comfortable, and Harlow settled on them. All along the back wall drawings, poems, lyrics and various random scribblings created a colourful collage, this was the only place she dare display them. She had done a lot of portraits of her idols; her favourite was one she did of Gerard Way it was all in black and white except for his fire-engine-red hair. He was someone she looked up to so much, he had dared to chase his dreams and succeeded, she wished so much she could follow his footsteps. She opened one of the two shoe boxes that sat in the corner by her feet; it contained her most precious items, CD's, letters from a pen-pal she had a while back -who had long ago given up writing back- clippings from magazines about colleges she wanted to go to and things that inspired her. And the one thing she cherished most, a picture of her Dad.

She had found it in the spare room, it had slipped between the floor boards and only a tiny bit had been sticking out, Harlow had fished it out and when she saw it she had been speechless. It was blurry and out of focus, she couldn't make out any of his features, but it was him. It was all she had of him, and she loved it dearly. The picture showed a happy couple -her mother and father- with arms around each other, grinning, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't wish she had grown up in that family, in some alternate universe where her dad didn't leave and her mother loved her. She smiled fondly at the photograph then placed it carefully back in the box, it was the only picture left of her dad, the rest had been destroyed by Lisa, her mother told her she had burnt them so she didn't have to look at his traitorous face anymore, so Harlow treasured the photo more than anything else.

Placing the lid back, she opened the other shoebox, inside it were her drawing materials and paper, she took them out and spent the next hour, drawing, scrawling the random lyrics that popped in her head, and trying her best to not think about today, especially the green eyed boy. She woke with a start to the sound of the door banging -she had fallen asleep in the wardrobe- her heart jumped into her throat, she sat straining to hear any other noises, eventually she could hear the sound of people talking, her mother and a man. The male voice was familiar and when Harlow realised it was her head master from school she almost burst into tears. She'd been found out; Lisa would know she had lied to her. She leaped up, almost banging her head, and raced to get out of the wardrobe, she changed quickly back into her usual clothes and tried to steady her breathing. She slumped down by the door, trying to hear the conversation, waiting for the inevitable.

Eventually he left and Harlow wanted to run after him, to scream, to ask him if he realised what he had done. She hadn't been able to hear what they were talking about, but she didn't need to, she knew he had told her mother she had skipped classes and left early without permission. She tried her best to fight back the fear and anxiety building in her chest, counting the seconds, Lisa would be coming soon. Far too quickly she heard her mother yell "Harlow!" her blood turned to ice in her veins, she hugged her arms around her body and waited for the wrath of her mother. She heard thunderous footsteps making their way up the stairs, her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was shaking. When she heard the thumping on her bedroom door, she jumped up and backed away. Without waiting for an invitation, Lisa barged in, fury written all over her face, contorting her features. "You lying little bitch! Think you could get away with it did you?" Lisa took another step forward and Harlow stepped away automatically, trying not to cower.

"This is just typical of you, you selfish wretch, you think you can skip happily through life, doing whatever you want without paying the consequences. Well you're wrong!" Harlow had to swallow a hysterical bubble of laughter that was trying to escape, if Lisa thought that she 'happily skipped through life' then the alcohol had corroded her mind more than she thought. Seeing that Harlow didn't have a retort, her eyes flared with loathing. "Nothing to say? No excuses? No more pathetic lies?" Lisa strode forward - her anger evidently sobering her up - "You never learn, nothing ever goes in that thick skull of yours! You should be apologising, praying that I forgive you! How dare you lie to me?" Lisa took another step, she had back Harlow against the wall and now stood a mere foot in front of her, fuming. Harlow attempted to speak, to apologise, to beg and beseech but she couldn't, her brain betrayed her and wouldn't allow her to say a word, she just stood in frightened silence.

Lisa grinned, but it wasn't a happy smile, it wasn't the smile plastered on her face in the photo of her and her dad. This was a sadistic smile, a smile that told Harlow what was to come. Her mother gripped her by the hair, jerking her away from the wall, Harlow cried out as pain radiated through her head, reminding her that she had smacked it against the tarmac earlier that day. Lisa tried to drag her forward causing Harlow to trip and fall to her knees, she tried to curl in a ball, to protect herself, but Lisa was stronger than she looked and kept her on her knees. She looked up to see Lisa pulling her arm back, and Harlow scrunched her eyes shut, trying to block out what she knew was coming.

A second later her mother fist connected with her face, the impact hitting just above her cheek bone, Harlow cried out again as pain exuded through her face, she whimpered and tried to break away from her mother's grip. Finally Lisa let go and Harlow crumpled to the floor in a heap, she faintly heard her mother snarl something at her, but it was illegible to Harlow lying on the floor, trying to hold herself together until she heard her bedroom door slammed shut. The moment she knew she was alone, she broke down, sobs wracked her frame and she pressed a hand to her cheek which was throbbing profusely. This was average life for Harlow, and had been for many years, but still, even now, every time her mother laid hands on her it tore a part of her soul away.

For a couple of hours Harlow laid there, unmoving, watching the sky changing from blue-grey to orange tinged with pink, the sobs had stopped but her breathing was still ragged. Staring at the sky, she thought of the life she wanted, of how she wished she never had to see her mother again, and in that moment Harlow vowed to herself that she would have a better life one day; she would make sure of it. A resolve settled over her and without a second thought, she pulled on her socks and shoes, knowing Lisa would have locked herself away in her bedroom, Harlow crept downstairs and put on her jacket, she didn't know where she was going, but she knew she had to get out of the house and away from the wreck that was her life.

20 minutes later Harlow laid on a stone bench by the river that ran down the very edge of the woods, on the other side of the river beyond a chain link fence was an industrial park, made up of seven or eight big warehouses - most of which were now empty. She had no idea what she was going to do, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she had to go back home, but she just needed some time, she needed a plan, a way to get out