cherry (h.s)

sixty one

Harry Styles

Last night...

I couldn't have felt more pain, watching her tear filled eyes look at me as I left.

She looked at me like I had shattered her entire world right in front of her. She looked broken. It's an image I can't get out of my head.

I broke her. I broke her a long time ago and she didn't realize it. This was the twist of the knife.

God, how I wish things were different.

I love her. I do.

But I saw where this was headed a while ago. I've tried to suppress it but seeing her with her parents set it all in stone for me.

I can't let her be another Krista. I can't let her die because of me.

She's Charlotte. A beautiful girl who deserves a love greater than mine.

I drive down the darkened roads, hating every inch of my being. I hated my head. I hated my body. I hated the way I hurt her. I hated everything.

I hated myself again, just like I did before I met her.

I eventually pull the car over, feeling too much emotion to keep driving. Her scent was still in the car. I pull into a driveway of an empty lot of a church.

I couldn't seem to cry. I just felt like a dead man walking, in a literal and figurative sense.

Malone will come for me soon. I'm not going to try and hide from him. I've got nothing left so I couldn't give a fuck what he does anymore, just as long as Charlotte's not involved.

I grab a pack of cigarettes and get out of the car, slamming the door shut as I bring my self over to a parking bumper, sitting down on it.

I numbly light the cigarette, letting the harsh smoke travel into my lungs.

It would be different if she were here, sharing this with me. I wouldn't care to finish the smoke as much.

But now I don't care. Now I'll finish the whole pack if I really want to. It won't matter. I'll be dead within the week anyway. I feel like a ghost...

And I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

I lost Krista because she died. I watched her die. I watched her kill herself for me to live.

Now I'm experiencing a whole new type of loss.

Someone who is still alive, but just out of my arms reach and I know I can't have her.

But she's alive. She'll be okay and that's what matters.

As I smoke my cigarette, I furrow my brows as I watch another car drive into this empty lot.

But what surprised me most was that it was the same car as the one in Charlotte's driveway. Her father's car.

I sit up a bit, confused as to why he was here or how he found me here. Was he following me?