Redamancy | Harry Styles Fanfiction (ongoing)

Chapter Six.

"You take the breath out of my lungs,
Can't even fight it
And all of the words out of my mouth without even tryin'
And I'm speechless"

Aurora Brown

All of this just feels like a cruel twist of fate, or even a fever dream. Somedays I can't seem to believe that everything that happened was real.

Finding Harry was like finding water in a desert, a miracle, and I tried to hold onto him like I'd hold water but he slipped through my fingers and there's nothing I can do about it.

The scene replays in my head over and over again, like I'm being punished and deprived of sanity.

Almost a week has passed, this whole week was like drowning away and melting into soundless oblivion without my knowledge.

I am falling, into a bottomless pit, pitying and loathing myself all whilst feeling like the most helpless soul on the planet.

I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to move. I was swamped in negative emotion, helplessly curled up as tears rolled down my cheeks for the hundredth time that day, and I let them fall, not bothered.

To make matters worse I had fallen horribly sick, the crick in my neck, the horrible cold, the excruciatingly painful muscle aches and the blinding headaches don't let me get out of bed.

drained of all energy, pathetic and tired.

It had taken me four days to just come out of my room, by which time my sister had left,

It hurt to think about but I tried to convince myself that it was a happy memory, atleast I got to meet him.

If fate will allow it, I'll get another chance someday, it'll all work out one day but if it doesn't, I have great and slightly unbelievable story to tell my grandkids when I'm older.

But for now, I can't find the energy or motivation to go back to work, I have Millie covering for me.

She'll understand if explain it to her, I don't know if she'll believe me but she'll understand.

Part of me didn't want to go back because I'd have to go see the same place again, I'd see the pavement we fell in, I'd see the parking lot- it's just too complicated for me to go back to work, atleast now.

My mind constantly wanders, every thought somehow leads back to Harry, even when I distract myself with bad trash TV.

Spending my days wallowing in depths of deep pity and cheap wine will get me nowhere,

I get up reluctantly and clean up around the house, tiptoeing outside my house to get rid of the all the glass bottles that'll probably make my neighbours think I hosted a party at home.

I take a hot shower, shed some tears and decide to move on with my life, no matter how hard it is.

Quiet and calm haunts my house and I soak it in, listening to stillness floating the walls.

I idle my quiet day away settling with my book on the grey armchair my mother had bought me as a house warming present when I moved out.

The silence is good, the silence is comforting.

I slump into the chair and begin reading, while slow subdued music plays in the background.

Just as I settle in I hear knocking on my front door, I don't bother to straighten my clothes or fix my hair, I run down the stairs stubbing my toe along the way.