Stockholm Syndrome // h.s

chapter twenty

Harry
2 weeks; 14 days; 336 hours; 20,160 minutes until I last saw Belle's beautiful face. To say I missed her would be an understatement, I physically felt the pain of her absence. It left me clutching at my chest, grasping for breath, for some relief from the intense feeling that wouldn't leave my body.

My heart isn't new to the feeling of utter brokenness. I coped in the only way I knew how, just as I had before. I drank until I could barely remember my first name, I drank until I was on the verge of a blackout, I drank until the image of her face was no longer visible in my clouded mind.

The past weeks were filled with blurred memories and nothingness. When I wasn't drinking twice my body weight, I did absolutely nothing. I had no one to do anything with. She was my person and now my person was gone.

I knew where she was, I knew she was safe, back with the family that had disowned her. It had only been all over the news "Kidnapped Girl Found on Side of Road, Kidnapper Yet to be Found..." I knew they were searching for me and for all I know she was feeding them all the things she knows about me, all the secrets that I spilled.

I didn't care if they found me, killed me, locked me up for an eternity. All I cared about was Belle, she is the only thing that matters, and without her I was nothing. I had no purpose, no meaning, no intent, just a speck of dust compared to the world. A meaningless speck of nothingness. So why even continue on? Because I know someday, somehow we will meet again, whether it's 30 years from now or next week, destiny will bring us together yet again.