D A M A G E D • HS

59

TW: themes of suicide

HARRY P.O.V

Dark clouds covered the sky for most of my life. An unsettling gloom always seemed to follow me everywhere I went.

Thunder crashes became the lullaby that sang me to sleep every night. Lightning strikes became the alarm that woke me up in the morning, and indicated to me that once again the sky would be gray.

It always felt cold, and dreary. It's the type of weather where you stare out the window hoping for a clear sunny sky to breathe life into the melancholic atmosphere.

The desire for a warmer, more comforting feeling was something I longed for hopelessly, even knowing in the back of my head that my wishes would never come true.

I felt like a character in A Series of Unfortunate Events. One after the other, something always was going wrong in my life. I was never smart enough for my father, or fashionable enough for my mother. I was never easy to love, and I felt that every day of my life.

It was hard as fuck to live at times. What normal seven year old has thoughts of wanting to die. Most kids might wish to run away from home, but dying isn't what is usually on their minds.

I felt so hopeless, there was a part of me that felt the light on the other side that everyone always talks about wouldn't shine a glowing white light for me.

I was convinced that no light would ever come and try to find me. No light wanted to break through my dark clouds. The universe wanted me to stay hidden in the darkness.

I was so sure of it.

I believed that no one wanted to come for the hopeless. Sure I had Harper with me, and there is no doubt she is the brightest light to fill a room, but she could never fully break through my darkness.

At the end of the night, no matter how much happiness and life Harper brought me when the sun was up, as soon as the sun started to fall into the sky, so would my happiness.

When the sun was fully gone, and the only thing that was giving the world some brightness was the moon and stars in the sky, the things that troubled my mind would start attacking me at full force.

No one could ever break the thick gray sky, and I accepted that. I knew I would never see the white glowing light, that was my sign that life does get better.

But then it happened, the most all consuming, brightest light in the world came crashing down like a meteor. The light however wasn't white.

The light was purple. The brightest, and boldest shade of purple came slicing through the darkness, consuming all of its dread. The purple light spread all over, the dark was replaced by a purple sky. There were no more thunder clouds, instead it was peaceful and quiet. The lightning strikes were still there, but it wasn't painful.

These lightning strikes revived the life in me. They heated my heart, and sparked my soul.

The purple light saved me the day it came crashing down. It wrapped me in its warm blanket and finally told me that I was going to be okay.

The light was Arlo Steele.

Her lips are on my, sizzling my skin. My whole body is alert, and sensitive. I feel like I'm finally drinking water for the first time in years.

I managed to get us up from the ground with our lips still on each other. Arlo's legs wrapped around my waist as I lifted her up, holding her by the backs over her thighs.

I have dreamt of this moment every night. I would dream of reuniting with Arlo after all of our time apart, but the one thing about dreams is that they never reveal the physical effect of a certain situation.