Hunted: Harry Styles Fan Fiction

Louis

Chapter 10

The hallway was silent as I walked away from the door to our flat. I didn’t have the guts to tell Harry what I was going to do. He’d never have let me go if he actually thought I was this upset about what had happened today. I knew he cared about me, and I knew that all I was going to do was hurt him, but I couldn’t bring myself to face it. I couldn’t deal with the stress of being tangled up in this mess that wasn’t mine, and I didn’t know how to handle coming across these men, if it was to ever happen again, which I was sure that it would.

I shuffled down the hall and out the door to the car again. For the third time today I began to cry as I got into the vehicle, just sitting there with my head in my hands. I sat like that for nearly twenty minutes until I turned the ignition. My cheeks were red and puffy, and I pulled out of the garage as I wiped tears off my face. Nothing scared me more than the thought of my own demise, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop from going through with it.

This is the last time I’ll leave this garage, I thought to myself as I pulled my sleek car from the structure. Sunlight shone brightly through the windows of the car, covering my face entirely. I put the visor down so that I could see the road before I pulled out. My head hurt. It felt like I was dizzy, like I’d just been hit in the head really hard, and the entire day had been a dream. I wish. It wasn’t too late to stop and really consider what I was going to do. I could turn around right now and actually go to Starbucks. I could still stop.

No.

Either I hurt Harry now, or I hurt him later, and hurt Kate too. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but that was entirely inevitable. My fate had been decided for me from the moment I walked out of my flat this morning. Everything had come at me so fast, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

I still don’t.

I tried to keep myself calm in the car while I drove, still wondering if I was making the right decision. People always say that suicide is not the answer, and some say it’s not an answer, but maybe they were wrong. If people were going to get hurt with my life, and they were going to be hurt by my death, what was so wrong with getting it over with quickly and harmlessly. I glanced over to the passenger seat. The shiny .22 caliber sat there where I’d set it before I went inside to tell Harry goodbye, before I lost my nerve and told him I was going for coffee. What a pathetic excuse. The cold metal rested against the dark leather seat. As I pulled away from the garage, it reflected the sun onto the ceiling of the car. It’s not the answer, I thought. But it’s the only choice I have. I pulled up my pant leg again, glancing down at the cuff on my ankle. More hot tears welled in my eyes. Why did this have to be me? I was just getting ready to live my dream. Couldn’t this have waited a few more years? I’d worked so hard with Liam, Harry, Zayn, and Niall to get this far. I could’ve had a wonderful life with my career.

I could’ve had a wonderful life with the music that I adored so much; a wonderful life with Eleanor.

But all of those dreams had been crushed and blown away in the wind.

There was no time to think of that now. My mind had already been made up, and there was nothing that could change it. I drove through the city center heading for the highway. I approached the on ramp, the bright blue sea just ahead of me now. I pulled onto the freeway, the cars in front of me zipping by. I drove slowly, still nervous about the roadways. People sped past me honking, but I didn’t care anymore. What would it matter in a few more minutes?

I drove up behind a large black van. My heart rate increased while we drove down the road, as I became acutely aware of the fact that this van looked exactly like the van from earlier this morning. I looked carefully at the license plate number. I tried desperately to remember the number in order to put my fears to bed. There’s no way that’s the same van, I thought to myself. Calm down. Besides, what could they do to you that would be worse than what you’re preparing to do to yourself? I debated in my mind whether or not I should worry about the van. No, they couldn’t do any worse, I finally decided, and I stopped paying attention. I kept my focus on the lined pavement in front of me, watching for the exit that would take me into the northern forests. I didn’t want to be found after I used that gun for the first, and also the last, time.

I kept driving behind the van, too terrified to pass. I looked off to my right, the soft blue ocean rolling endlessly toward the shore. It crashed, throwing big spouts of water into the air, the top bubbling and frothing against the rocks. It was a beautiful sight. It was serene, yet turbulent at the same time. I was put almost in a trance by the water.

I should’ve been paying attention.

I looked back at the van just a split second too late. The doors swung open wildly, and flapped in the wind coming off passing cars on the freeway. Two tall, hooded men stood up, and stared right at me, glares that felt like they were boring holes right into my skin. I could almost feel myself melting under their hot gazes. I barely had time to process what was happening as the men drew guns from their places along on their belts, and aimed them right for me. I wasn’t sure that I fully understood what was going on, but I didn’t have time to. Before I had a chance to stop, or dodge out of the way, there were holes in the windshield.

Two.

Three.

Four.

I counted the number of times that glass shattered, smashing into my body at sixty miles an hour. I felt the skin on my face slicing open, blood bubbling on the newly formed wounds. Sharp pains bit my flesh like daggers being stabbed into me hundreds of times. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, and all I could do was sit there holding the steering wheel while my life poured into my lap.

I looked down, my already red pajama pants shifting colors to a deep crimson. I just stared at the wounds, until I could feel myself struggling to stay conscious. I had set out to commit suicide, and I hadn’t had the chance. The same people who had put me in this mental state in the first place were now taking me out of it, and they were taking my last breaths with them. It was only at the moment when it was suddenly too late to fix anything that I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to tell everyone I was sorry, and I truly was for ever thinking that this was a better solution to my miniscule problems. I peeled my fingertips from the hard leather wheel, and clutched them to my chest. My fingers were covered in warmth, sticky and red.

So this was my last moment?

For some reason I’d had it in my mind that it would be much more gallant than this, much more dignified. I’d thought that it would be much faster, but everything seemed to only get slower and slower. These bullets lasted forever.

The pain only lasted a lifetime.

The way things always seem in your head never really is anything like it is in reality. I thought death would be easy. Over before it began. I never expected my final breath to be the one that lasted for an eternity. But nothing ever messes up they way your life would go except the way you think it should be.

As what was left of my life poured onto the floorboards of the car, I could see the shapes of the world outside my window lose their clarity. All the focus in anything was gone, and the world blurred away until there was nothing left to see. My head fell forward onto the steering wheel of the car against my will as I tried desperately to hold on to what little life I had left. My eyes connected with the dark blue expanse of the water as it crashed and sprayed, never-ending. I was done leaving my fingerprints on the world. My vision lost what was left of it’s clarity and finally faded. I felt the car twist and turn, and then everything felt like a free fall. There was no gravity.

Only weightlessness.

At that moment, I knew, my time on Earth had finally come to an end.