Work Text:
Red. If you asked him what he remembered from that awful day, 4 year old Niall would say red; there was so much red. It wasn’t the bright, garish sort of red that adorned the Spiderman poster in his room, or even the muted red of his bedspread – faded from a few too many washes from a few too many accidents. No matter how many times Niall insisted it was red, his brother Louis always said it was pink and teased him for liking “girly colours”. No, this was a different kind of red. It was a dark red that bloomed from nothing and seeped into his mind, staining it like it stained the pavement that day. It was the red Niall saw every night until he woke up to black.
The village they lived in was small – small enough for all Niall’s classmates to know about the incident before he’d set one foot in the reception classroom. None of them were sure how to handle the quiet blonde boy with cerulean eyes carrying the weight of another disrupted night’s sleep. An uncomfortable silence seemed to permanently sit in front of Niall, lingering like a bad smell, so even the friendlier children felt its push and left him alone.
At first Niall was relieved – he no longer had to face the pounding heart and the sweaty palms of never knowing what to say. However, the quiet soon stopped being peaceful. It became dark. It began to make his heart clench like a fist was squeezing it tightly, when he saw the others playing together. The silence around him amplified the unbearably loud thoughts invading his mind.
*
Located behind the school was a small field that was off limits during the autumn term. Niall spent his lunchtimes there. A Horse Chestnut tree grew at the back; its thick trunk and stretching branches seemed to tickle the sky as the tiny boy looked up at it for the first time. Flickers of fire dripped from the tree and floated to the ground, coating it in a carpet of flames. It was orange, like home, and Niall knew he’d found his haven.
It was up in the cradle of that very tree’s branches that Niall first met Harry. He was slightly taller, had curly brown hair to rival the twisting branches of the balding tree, and no front teeth.
“’Lo, I’m Harry. You’re Niall. Mr Payne says I should be your fwiend.”
Meeting Harry felt like gold – a little patch of sunshine bursting through a seemingly endless trail of grey, warming him inside and out. A little piece of treasure, promising something better: friendship.
The two formed a special bond, visible to everyone but understandable to nobody. Curled up in the arms of the Chestnut tree, they would listen to the whispers of the leaves, shielding each other from the bitter winter wind. They had fantastical adventures in the park: swooping on the swings, clutching the rails tight with little hands until their feet left the ground and they were flying. At sleepovers they would cocoon themselves in the safety net of Niall’s blanket (which Harry agreed was in fact red) and watch the stars come out one by one.
Autumn soon vanished; winter passed in a flurry of lights, snow, and pink noses; they were in spring now. Niall liked the flowers but missed the privacy – everyone was allowed on their field now.
“Hey, Nialler,” Harry began with a grin, little dimples popping into each cheek. Niall liked to poke them, and called them his cheek craters, but refrained from doing so and instead smiled shyly at the pet name Harry had taken to using. “You have pwetty eyes.”
“T’anks!”
“No weally, your eyes are so... weally blue. Like... when it’s sunny and the sea goes sparkly.”
“Oh... wight... T’ank you,” Niall’s pale cheeks flushed. Sometimes Harry said things like that and it woke up all the little butterflies in his tummy. He was quiet for a while, watching Harry’s usually clumsy fingers become swift and agile as they crafted a daisy chain. A girl shrieked with laughter a few metres away and one of the daisy stems snapped.
“Oopsie-daisy,” Harry sighed, letting the flowers scatter to the ground. He frowned and the dimples vanished. “That was meant for you.”
“Oh welly-well. We can put the oopsie-daisies in our hair like this!” Niall picked up a lone daisy and tucked it behind Harry’s ear, making the other boy beam. Harry went to return the action when the same girl who’d distracted him before let out an irritating tinkle of a giggle. Niall turned around to see a small group of students looking at him, staring. Some of them sniggered.
His cheeks went pink again, but this time it felt much more uncomfortable. Was it really so strange for a boy to give another boy a flower? Niall thought the daisies were pretty.
“Just pwetend they’re not there Nialler; they’re not ‘lowed near our special place.” Harry said softly, carefully tucking the daisy into Niall’s hair. “There, you look even beautiful-er.”
*
Niall finally felt happy, but he was quickly learning that happiness was a fragile being that could shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe happiness was white, then? It didn’t take much to taint it. How many times could he feel that flickering flame of hope before it was finally extinguished for good? It was his mother who blew out the candle this time, in the words “you need to get rid of Harry.”
*
“Niall, what’s wrong?” Mr Payne had strange drawings on his arms that other teachers often looked at disapprovingly, but Niall liked him anyway; he didn’t ignore Harry and his eyes were like chocolate. He had found him crying at the school gates; Niall couldn’t bear the thought of going into school without his best friend by his side.
“My mummy w-won’t let me be fwiends with Harry. It’s n-not fair!” The little boy cried, tiny fists clenched in anger. Another heart-breaking sob ripped from his throat. “I think... it’s ‘cause we h-hold hands. Mummy doesn’t like it when b-big boys do that.”
Mr Payne frowned, brow wrinkling in concern. “What if you keep Harry a secret? I won’t tell your parents.”
Niall didn’t tell Harry at first. He made up excuses to stop Harry going to his house, but the illusion didn’t last.
“Sorry Harry, I’m weally tired... Maybe next week?” Niall smiled sheepishly, chancing a look up at his friend who had had a sudden growth spurt and was now as tall as the older boys. It made Niall feel safe.
“For god’s sake Niall, stop it!” Harry snapped, glaring down at his friend. “I’ve not been to your house in ages. You keep making up dumb fibs; I know you’re lying to me.”
“I... I haven’t! Honest!” Harry’s face seemed to darken, his green eyes becoming a colder shade. Niall used to fondly compare Harry’s eyes to the leaves of their tree, which blocked out the rest of the world and kept their home sheltered; but now they were so dark, they were almost black. They looked empty.
Niall panicked at his friend’s change in demeanour, attempting to take a step back but he was stopped by a firm hand on his wrist. For the first time, Niall was scared of Harry.
“Don’t lie to me, Nialler,” Harry spat, and tears sprung to Niall’s eyes as the grip on his wrist tightened.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, trying to free his arm but with no prevail. “I was twying not to hurt your feelings, and now you’re hurting me!”
Harry froze, “What?”
“Mummy told me not to be fwiends with you. So I thought I could stay your fwiend, but in secwet. I’m weally sorry. Can you let go now?”
Harry started, as if he’d only just noticed the bruising grip he had on the smaller boy. He quickly let go, before catching Niall in a hug. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Guess I don’t know my own strength, huh? I’m kinda like Hulk.”
“Yeah, but less gween,” Niall giggled, happily sinking into the hug. “Are you ok being secwet fwiends, then?”
“Yup! We’ll be like secret agents!”
The two boys grinned at each other, and although Niall still felt a little shaken in his bones, he very quickly forgot the scarier, black side of Harry that he witnessed that day.
But as time dragged on, Harry seemed to change.
Niall often wondered if the strange intangible barrier that kept him separated from the other children was really the one person he trusted. He often toyed with the idea of approaching his classmates – one particularly bright yellow morning gave him the courage to suggest the idea to Harry.
“Harry, d’you ever feel lonely?”
“No. I have you and I know you won’t ever leave me.”
“Oh, but, don’t you think we could try and maybe... make friends with some of the others?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Well-”
“Am I not good enough for you? Is that it? Well I’ll tell you something... none of those kids will be your friend. Know why?” Niall stuttered but couldn’t get a word out before Harry carried on. “Because you’re a freak Niall.”
Niall visibly flinched; he could feel those sharp words piercing his skin, straight to his heart.
“H-Harry please... I didn’t-”
“Shut-up, ok? You’re learning an important lesson. We’re both screw-ups. Nobody wants us; nobody wants you.”
“Right,” Niall sniffled. “Sorry Harry.”
“It’s ok,” Harry sighed, slinging a long arm over Niall’s slumped soldiers. He bent down a little so his mouth brushed Niall’s ear as he whispered, “And if you ever try to leave me, I’ll tell everyone what you dream about. You don’t need those kids, ok? Only me, ‘cause I’m your best friend.”
The little blonde boy shivered; he felt strangely cold inside – like the icy grey words had sunk into his chest. The words best friend sounded oddly threatening.
*
Niall was still isolated from the mainland of his peers like a lonely island. Little had changed on the surface of the school, but deep down in the hidden depths, the waters were shifting.
Harry wasn’t very nice. Ever. Niall couldn’t remember the last time he saw the dimples. All he could see was green – dark, dangerous murky green. Harry was full of pinching words from a venomous tongue. Every path Niall took was sprinkled with glass that he tentatively stepped around, afraid that his next step would be the one that made his friend snap again.
It didn’t take much.
“Do you ever wonder why they stare at us, Harry?”
“You’re a ‘tard. That’s why they stare. They know you wet the bed, because of your stupid nightmares.”
Niall’s breath caught in his throat. Wrong move.
“Everyone knows. They know about your dead brother. They know about Louis.”
“Stop it, please,” Niall’s ocean eyes brimmed and overflowed with salty trickles.
“Don’t try to leave me Nialler. I’ll tell everyone your last secret. I’m your best friend, okay? So don’t leave.”
Niall nodded, feeling worthless. He could see the disgust in Harry’s eyes, as he towered over him, making him feel small in so many ways.
Harry took hold of his hand, offered a no longer gap-toothed smile, and led the way to the park.
*
“I know you killed him, Niall. It’s your fault Louis is dead.”
“Shut-up, shut-up,” Niall whispered, hands clamped over his ears, eyes pressed shut. He desperately tried to block everything out, but the harder he tried, the louder Harry’s voice seemed to get.
“You killed your brother.”
“Why are you doing this? You’re my only friend Harry! You’re not meant to hurt me!”
“Because you deserve it. Freak.”
“Go away!” Niall screamed, his fingernails digging into his arms, leaving little red crescents. His sobs filled the bathroom cubicle his was in; the walls seemed to be closing in, pushing against him. The air was being forced from his lungs.
Niall heard footsteps.
“Harry?” he whispered. He tried to think of his favourite colours but the cubicle door was the wrong shade of green; Niall felt like being sick. “I didn’t mean it... Please come back. Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Niall? Niall, is that you?” Mr Payne’s voice reverberated around the tiled room. The little blonde boy held his breath.
“Niall... can we talk? I know I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about Harry... but you’re not happy anymore. I think it’s Harry’s fault. We need to call your parents.”
“No... Harry’s my friend. Go away,” Niall muttered, shutting his eyes when things started going blurry. “Want Harry. Only Harry. I didn’t do anything... You can’t prove I did anything... It wasn’t me... Harry come back... I’m not a freak... I’m not...”
Niall let the darkness encompass him.
*
White. Everything was so white and clean; it smelt like that day. Waiting and waiting in hard white chairs while his mother cried and his father held her. They’d waited and waited until the doctor came out and said “I’m sorry.”
It felt the same – Niall’s chair was still uncomfortable.
The doctor’s coat was white and so were her teeth. It made Niall’s head hurt. His head had been hurting a lot recently.
This time, the doctor didn’t say “I’m sorry” but Niall saw it in her eyes. She said “Early-onset schizophrenia.”
*
Harry tries to apologise; Niall sees him lingering in the corner of the room with guilty eyes. But Niall understands now: he believes in what others can’t see. It’s not his fault that Louis died – he didn’t know that Louis would run into the road when his mother turned to tie Niall’s shoelace. That was just how the events played out.
Niall swallows a pretty pink pill and Harry slowly disappears.