snitch

23

Harry Styles

"It's me. It's Harry." I inched closer towards her, trying to calm her down.

"Edward I am done. I won't let you continue to hit me." She grabbed the vase on the wooden table, throwing it in my direction.

In reflex, I dodged to the left not letting it hit me. The echoing noise of the glass shattering made my insides jump. The words ached a lot more though. He would hit her?

Lost in my thoughts, I quickly snapped out of it when she bolted towards me at full speed. With no time to think, I jumped to the side to protect myself. A loud clattering noise circled the room when she fell on the floor, hitting her head on the corner of our thick glass table.

"Mum!" I ran to her side, delicately sliding my hand under her head. I felt my tear ducts swell in the thought of her being hurt.

She groaned slightly before barely opening her eyes. Her hand weakly rose to my cheek, and she forced one of her smiles that always made me feel better. It wasn't working this time though. Something inside me told me that this situation that I had got myself into was unfixable.

"Harry." She spoke gently, warming my heart. I didn't get many moments like this with her because of her condition. When I finally got it though, I wished it wasn't real.

Here she was, weakly laying in my arms, barely able to open her eyes. "Mummy, everything is going to be alright. We'll be alright. Okay?" I felt a tear escape my eye before she wiped it away, shaking her head softly.

"No, please. Let me go. I don't want to live like this anymore. End my misery Harry. Please." She gave me a sweet smile, using her hand to grab a kitchen knife off the floor in our over cluttered house.

I didn't have time to clean up lately. It's so hard balancing school and work and taking care of her.

She handed me the knife, and nodded in confirmation. She wanted me to kill her.

"Before you do it, there is something I want you to have. In my desk drawer there is an envelope with your name." Her chin quivered, telling me she was going to cry. I hated to see her cry.

I shut my eyes, a tear falling out, leaving a wet trail on my face. I brought the knife into the air, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do but no matter how much the voices told me that it would be okay, I knew it wasn't. In no world was my mum being dead okay.

"I love you." Her last words sounded in the messy dining room as I shoved the knife into her stomach.

"I'm so sorry Mum." I retracted the knife, then shoved it into her stomach in a different spot. "I'm so sorry." Tears streamed down my face in a pathetic cry. My chest felt tight, as if my heart had completely stopped.

I felt like everything stopped. I felt like I was yelling but I didn't hear myself. I didn't hear anything. The loud AC suddenly went quiet. The neighbors kids that were playing outside abruptly stopped. The echo of the sit-com my mum was watching earlier went mute. The voices in my head, they stopped. Everything just stopped.

I looked at my dead mother laying in my arms, a pool of red sadness around us. I ran my hand over her eyelids, closing them.

The pain of knowing that I would never be able to see her beautiful blue irises again settled in my stomach. A pit of guilt sat next to it. My head pounded harshly making my whole world spin.

I can't live without her.

I felt like I couldn't breathe and I needed to grip something. I needed to know that this wasn't a dream. I needed to know if this was real.