Tribulation [h.s]

40

"There's something tragic, but almost pure
I think I could love you, but I'm not sure
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet."

Play when you see *

-

Harry's POV (first person)

"If you're going to throw up again, do it over there."

"Shut up." I scoff and walk over to the edge of the rooftop. The bitter air whips through my hair, and my bleary eyes gaze over the skyline.

I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing. I needed fresh air, so Allie took me up to the rooftop of her sketch-ass apartment complex. Only a few minutes ago, she held my hair back while I was hunched over, puking my guts out in her toilet.

In all honesty, she's so nice that it's annoying.

When I look back out to the cityscape, my mind wanders with the flashing lights.

I don't believe in a God. If there is a God, we're nothing to him. He put us here to suffer, and he sits back and watches while his creation crumbles. So, if there is a God, I wish them dead and gone.

But, I do have to ask myself this: Has the world gone mad? Or is it me?

I groan when a hot flash hits me like a tidal wave. Right. I'm going through withdrawals. The numbness is fading, so my gradually sobering mind begins to spiral with the poison of my thoughts.

This is beginning to become unbearable. The cold air does help lessen my nausea enough for me to feel more steady on my feet. When I turned around, I wasn't expecting to see Allie sitting on the ground.

"Sit with me," Allie offers with a cheesy smile, patting the spot next to her.

Is she crazy? "Fuck no."

"But why?"

"Because it's winter, and I'm not laying on the cold, dirty ground."

The girl blows a raspberry at my resistance. "I just want to show you something," she grumbles before lying down on her back.

"Show me what?"

"The stars."

Briefly, I look up at the sky. "I don't see anything." You can hardly ever see stars in New York with the amount of light pollution the city produces. Everyone knows that.

"Yeah, but we can imagine," she muses. There's something about her smile — that gentle and fragile smile — that I lose myself in.

*

I don't think I'll ever understand her.

My irritation eases for the moment while I observe her. There's something so peaceful about her right now, something so precious, so innocent, yet unsteady.

It's hard not to give in. I hate it, but it's hard to resist her. I wish I could recall a specific moment when she gained power over me, but I can't. It seems all of those small moments we've shared, good or bad, hold their weight in gold. Now, she's got me in a chokehold.

What is she doing to me?

I know I won't find the answer to that anytime soon. So, I lay down beside her on the cold fucking cement. I don't know what's so special about staring up at a dark, empty sky, but I do it for her.

"The probability of us existing is slim to none, yet somehow, we're in this moment, staring into infinity," Allie mumbles with a particular fascination. "Were merely a flash in the pan when compared to the history of the cosmos. It's hard not to feel insignificant when faced with the vastness of time and space. The chances of you and me even coming into existence, scientifically, is slim to none. So, the chance of you and me being right here, in this exact moment, must be one and — I don't know — a few billion?" Her laugh is soft and somber. "But," she injects. "If you think about it, those probabilities are so drastically small that we must mean something. So yes, we might be tiny and insignificant, but we are also rare and precious."