The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 32

Louis' pov

D-49

Bartholomew is working the night shift again. I see him less and less. I think my presence gives him too much trouble and reminds him of Harry. I hate this situation, but I can't go live with my parents. Manuel quit a week after Harry's funeral. It was too difficult for him to be here, because he had, you might say, raised Harry. I don't know where Bastard and Hope are. Probably playing in the garden. Today I am oppressed by loneliness.

It's already 10 o'clock at night, and I haven't eaten anything today. I go down to the kitchen. A pile of dishes in the sink. Around the pizza box and all sorts of other food. I don't clean anything. Harry wouldn't have liked this garbage, but it hasn't been cleaned up since Manuel left.

Bartholomew is almost always at work, and I only leave the room to go down to eat. Cleaning up the kitchen a little.

When I'm done cleaning, I open the refrigerator. Again, memories are displayed in my head. I remember the first time we cooked eggs here. It was so terrible that only Bastard could eat it. I close the refrigerator. I'm not hungry. I won't eat, but no one will ever know. It's not my fault I don't have an appetite. Harry didn't keep his promise either. I leave the kitchen.

Today is the first time I've walked around the house since he died. Died. That word always sounds so loud in my head. I go from room to room while Bastard and Hope lie on the living room carpet by the fireplace. My eyes fall on the pool table. I close my eyes. Instinctively, I go down to the basement and lie down in the middle of the ring. I can't count the number of hours I've spent here watching him train while I've been playing video games. I need to feel close to him so badly. Nothing works, I don't feel any closer to him lying here. I go to the other room where we spent a lot of time: the game room. But nothing works again. He's not here to play with me. I push open the back door. I see an indoor pool. I remember the first time he invited me here. He told me I could come here anytime. Without undressing, I lie down on the water. I close my eyes and imagine his arms around me.

For a few seconds, I want to dive into the water and drown myself to join him.

***

When I return to the room, completely wet, my eyes fall on the photo frame. Our photo frame. Our polaroids that we hung up. There are so many of them. There are also a lot of photos, as well as in the frame with Samantha. I didn't look at the pictures after he was gone. I didn't want to do that. I wanted to forget about his existence. Water drips from my hair and clothes onto the carpet, but I don't care. All these photos are just memories. There will never be any new photos. We won't be able to take photos together anymore. Never. My heart squeezes so hard in my chest that I can't breathe. I'm having trouble breathing. I can't take my eyes off, I look at each photo as if I want to get even more memories. Images appear in my head like flashes, I relive every moment, every moment.

Bastard and Hope in Carla's garden. Harry plays ball with them. The day we went to the carousel for the second time because he wanted to fly again. "I'm flying, Louis, I'm flying." I see his smile, his laugh, his hair flying in all directions.

It's too cruel.

The cake that Manuel helped us with. "Now mix the milk, flour and eggs." I see Harry picking up the ladle and stirring it gently.

I put my head in my hands, I want these images in my head to stop, it's too complicated, it's too unpleasant.

"Put your fingers here." Sitting behind me, he takes my fingers and places them correctly on the strings. Guitar, his arms around me, he's teaching me how to play.

I fall to my knees, I don't want to revisit it all, I don't want to relive it all again. Stop it! The images pass so quickly that there is barely enough time to see them.