This Means War || H.S

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Autumn's POV

Warmth surrounds my body as I sit in the hot water. I can hear Harry singing in the kitchen while he prepares us breakfast. My ankle sits elevated out of the bath water but every inch of my body is relaxed. A sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes. Nothing and everything runs through my mind as all other distractions are removed. My prefrontal cortex is injured, I can't tell the difference between reality and fantasy, and what if I'm never able to again? What happens if I hallucinate at the wrong time, during a life or death situation? How will I ever be able to live a normal life, could I ever have a child with this ailment always within me or would I eventually destroy everything around me? Harry promises to protect and provide for me but how well can he actually do that with me being no help at all? Another sigh escapes me before I open my eyes.

Silence captures me as I stare down at the liquid surrounding my body. Slowly, I lift my hands up out of what was once water and see the thick blood dripping off of my limbs. All around me is blood, in my hair, streaming around my chest, creasing up under my fingernails. I feel my breathing become heavy, obviously beginning to hyperventilate, my chest compresses harshly against my sternum and heart, leaving no room for air. Any excess room in my throat that would allow me to scream has disappeared as it seems that my throat has closed in on itself.

The thick liquid, obviously not tears begins to fog my vision until I'm utterly consumed by blood. My body thrashes around in the tub. By the sounds around me the blood splatters onto the walls around me and finds its way into my ears, leaving me almost deaf to the world around me. Not soon enough a terrified scream leaves my throat as I gasp for air. My hands reach out for anything solid as I begin to choke on the blood entering my open lips.

A pair of hands grasps my arms, pulling me out into the cold air and into warm cloth. My eyes dart open to see Harry breathing heavily in front of me. I can feel my concaving chest as my lungs continue to beg for air. Looking down, I still see and feel the warm, thick blood on my body, on the towel around my middle. I look to Harry desperately but his eyes show only confusion, no mirror of my terror.

"Harry get it off of me," I cry out trying to wipe away the blood with my already stained hands. "Autumn what are you seeing on you?" His voice is soft, making me cry even harder knowing I'm alone in what I'm going through. "There's blood, blood everywhere, all over me. What happened? Where did it come from? Please just get it off of me," I beg him. My pleading does no good for he still looks at me in confusion.

Realization seems to hit him as he wraps his arms around me. "It's only water love. I promise it's only water," I look down to see the clear water droplets on my shoulder, cascading down my arm. "What," I whisper but Harry only shushes me. He promises that everything is okay, that I only imagined it but these words leave me with even more questions than answers. If I only imagine these things, how can they feel so real. The feeling of blood overtaking my body was extremely real, I remember it vividly. The feeling of almost drowning in the thick red liquid is stamped on my mind, possibly impossible to remove.

"Why don't you dry off and get dressed. Breakfast is ready whenever you are." I only nod and he sends me a smile before leaving me alone once more. Fear flows back into my body, the thought of pure blood consuming me fills every dark corner of my mind, torturing my conscious mind. I could have sworn that it was real without a doubt. This was what Harry was talking about, how am I supposed to wake up everyday not knowing whether or not what I'm seeing and feeling is actually reality or not.

I dry and dress myself as Harry said, all the while trying to collect my thoughts. I'd have to take every day one second at a time, counting on Harry to stick by my side every minute until this ailment has disappeared; if that is even possible. My wet hair cascades down my front as I look at myself in the mirror. All I see is a corpse, walking around in the land of the living. How is one supposed to go day to day without a working brain, and holding a fragile heart? The thing staring back at me in the mirror no longer feels like me, just a hollow shell of someone I used to be. Sighing once again I grab my crutches and walk down the hall to the kitchen where Harry has prepared a delicious smelling meal. No matter how many emotions I feel at the moment I cannot deny the immediate hunger I feel.