forty

3.4K 106 249
                                    

Ohhh we're halfway there... anyways hey besties 10,000 words ahead! There will be a song you should play while reading some certain parts but once again I will have it ready for you to play.

Harry's POV

Today is the day we have all been dreading. The day we say our final goodbyes. The past week hasn't been easy on any of us.

2 days ago we were finally allowed to go back to the house, only after it had been cleaned. The only trance of evidence that she lived there being that her clothes are still hung up in our closet, the bed still unmade from the last day we were both together, and the bullet holes littering the wall. Her sweater laying on the floor still smelled like her. I couldn't sleep in our bed the first night because once I had laid in it I was consumed by all of our memories, all the times we had sex, all the times we laid in bed for hours at night just talking, everything came crashing back down on top of me. I slept in the guest room but didn't actually end up sleeping. I read over her letter for the 100th time just so I could feel like she was there with me. Then last night I couldn't sleep again but ended up sitting on the balcony playing guitar, something she always loved that I did.

Callie stayed at the house last night because she wanted a way to be closer to Parker but she ended up staying up with me the whole night as I played. I wanted to be left alone but I didn't have the heart to tell her to leave the room, she needed someone and she lost someone too. Together she helped me write a song about how I was feeling because I genuinely didn't know how to explain it. Oddly enough it ended up not even being a song in my perspective but really in both mine and Parkers. She was the reason I made sure I came home every day, she's what brought me home.

I wanted something to remind me of that so I wrote a song about it, along with a tattoo. Two sparrows slightly underneath my collar bones. With Parker's fascination with bird things it seemed fitting but also there is a deeper meaning to sparrows as I've come to find out. Mainly with the help of google, sparrows mate for life... they symbolize undying love and commitment to a single person, they stay with their soulmate till the end of their life. I don't really believe in soulmates but Parker was my first love and my last, even in her death I'm still committed to her and will be for the rest of my life.

It was kind of a spur of the moment thing since everyone had fallen asleep and we were out of whiskey so I went out to a bar, drank my sadness away then somehow ended up in a tattoo parlor squinting at my phone screen looking up the meanings of birds. Now I'm sitting in my car, waiting in the parking lot of the church, hungover and even sadder than before. Louis was talking to me about the 5 stages of grief and apparently I'm in the depression stage of it or some shit. All I know is that I want to be back in our bedroom, alone, drinking a bottle of whiskey while staring at the only pictures I have of her.

I'm late to this shit anyways, Martha has called me at least 20 times before I finally answered her and yelled that I would be inside in 5 minutes. I was supposed to make sure everything was set up to her liking before she got to the church but how the fuck am I supposed to know if it's up to her stanards. When my phone rings again I slam both my hands down onto the steering wheel, shouting "fuck me" before aggressively opening my car door of the orange convertible and slamming it shut behind me.

I stride through the parking lot and into the church, god I feel like shit both mental and physically. As I walk down the aisle lined with white roses Martha gives me a displeased glare.

"Harry, so kind of you to show up. You could've showered you smell like a brewery." The snarkiness in her tone makes me want to go back to my car, grab my gun, and make this her funeral instead. Fucking bitch, sorry for actually mourning over the loss of your daughter. My way of coping just happens to be different than yours.

NightingaleWhere stories live. Discover now