The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 28

Louis' pov

"Harry was an outstanding man. I think if you're here today..."

My throat tightens. I raise my head and look at the people present. The pain in their eyes. My eyes drop to the coffin in front of me. There are flowers on it. Inside lies Harry.

I close my eyes for a few seconds and breathe slowly to try to get myself back to normal.

"If you're here today... If. You're here. I can't."

Harry is inside the coffin. It's Harry inside. Harry.

"I can't."

I shake my head, tears blurring everything in my path. I'm having trouble breathing.

"I can't, I can't, I can't."

I fall to my knees, tears streaming from my eyes. Bartholomew helps me up. After a while, I am already in the hands of the coach. I can barely hear the priest's words because I'm crying. Broken, completely broken inside.

The sermon lasts for an eternity, or a fraction of a second. I do not understand. The pain is too strong, it erases time. His father is also unable to speak. I'm on my knees on the floor, coach's arms around me, and I don't stop looking at the coffin. I don't stop looking at Harry. When they start to lower it into the ground, the only thing holding me back from jumping into that hole is my lack of strength. I can't move or breathe. Every second I feel death more and more. People throw a handful of earth in turn. I don't want to, I don't want to do this, I don't want to throw anything. I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want. I can not. It can't be real, it can't be true. I keep crying.

Coach takes me away. I find myself in his car. I'm empty, completely empty. I watch the falling snow through the glass. I see a crowd of people who were part of Harry's life, and who are trying to bury him, not knowing that they are burying me.

After arriving at Harry's house, I go straight to the room. I don't want to see people walking around his house eating cookies. He wouldn't like it, he wouldn't want to see all these people at home. I don't want to hear condolences in my direction. I don't want to see the sadness in their eyes, it's selfish because I'm not the only one who suffers, I know. His father is only a shadow of himself, I do not know where he finds the strength to live this day. I don't have any. I lock myself in a room with Bastard and Hope. I lie on the bed and curl up in my black suit, which I hate as much as I have all day. I hate him more than anything in the world.

***

It's been three days. It was three days after Harry's funeral. For three days I lay on my bed without moving. I only got up to go to the bathroom. I don't wash and I'm still wearing a black suit. I didn't eat or drink for three days. I feel very weak and in pain. Emptiness and pain. That's all I feel. I spend my days waiting for him from college or from the vet clinic, but he's never coming back. The nights are even crueler than the days. I look at the stars, but they don't shine for me anymore. Their radiance went with it. He's there again, on his side of the bed, I can see, I can feel his presence, his arms wrapped around me. He reassures me, he whispers that he is not gone, he will always be with me. When I wake up, his place on the bed is always empty. Each morning is more painful than the previous one. I don't cry, I haven't cried since he was buried. I don't have any more tears.

Harry's father comes to me several times a day, asking me for a drink or something to eat. I don't answer, I think I don't have the strength to speak anymore. Most of the time I'm in a semi-conscious state. I feel like I'm buried. I don't know what to do or how to get out. I have no desire. Harry is gone. Nothing else matters.

The door opens again. It's 8pm now. Time is the only thing I know, because the clock is in my field of vision. They're on the nightstand right next to the bed.