The Beautiful Hummingbird - Part I

The Run Away Edit

I go into automatic pilot. I grab my laptop. Print off the forms. The forms that remind me that I am nothing, a no one, worthless in the eyes of Harry Styles.  Those amazing green eyes that are emblazoned on my brain but instead of appearing loving they now seem to be mocking my mind.

I scan read them, laughing ironically to myself that my legal training would come in handy at some point. I sign the forms, giving bank details as requested. I rescan the forms and email them back to Tom.

It appears that £10k is all I am worth.

I cannot be here right now. I need to escape, to hide. I look up at my Special Places wall. My eyes glance over the frame that Harry gave me and I bite my bottom lip in frustration. I take the picture off the wall and place it on the table upside down. I can't bear to look at it. My eyes stare at the picture it hung next to and I know that is where I have to go.

I go online, book a budget hotel near Manchester airport and book the first flight I can secure a seat on in the morning. I pack a small bag of essentials and my laptop and sit on the sofa, in the dark, in silence. I feel absolutely nothing as I repeatedly scratch my wrist and wait for my taxi to arrive.

A loud knock at the front door signals my taxi is here. Before I leave I drop a note through Albert's door explaining that I am going away for a few days and I'll see him soon.

I check into the budget hotel at the airport. The room matches my mood with cheap décor, outdated and tired murky grey and dull orange chintz curtains, thread bare carpet and worn bed that dips in the middle. I lie on top of the bed starring at the dirty yellow ceiling. I scratch my wrists until they hurt so much I roll into a ball and eventually fall asleep.

I wake early, check out of the awful hotel and take the free shuttle bus to the airport. I am purely going through the motions to get to where I need to be. I do not acknowledge anyone at the airport or on the flight. The flight from Manchester to Inverness takes 1 hour 20 minutes and I stare out of the window the whole flight reminding myself over and over how stupid I am.

When I arrive at Inverness I find a car hire desk and hire a small car for a week. The drive from the airport to the little village takes 30 minutes and I stop at a supermarket on route to pick up some groceries and buy a new cheap mobile phone and sim card. I nearly collapse on the spot as images of Harry and Eden at the Awards ceremony are splashed across the Red Tops on the newsstands.

I drive into the village by the banks of Loch Ness and stop at The Inn at the bottom of the hill to pick up the key as arranged. I drive up the hill for about a mile and see my safe haven in front of me. I am finally here at the Loch Cottage. I texted my Uncle to ask if it was free and would it be ok if I visited. He is holidaying in Italy at the moment but he was only too delighted to let me stay. I know it is the exact place I need to be.

I park up outside the single story stone building with the slate roof. I open the front door and it hasn't changed since the last time I was here with my parents. The kitchen, living room and eating area is all open plan and there are two bedrooms and a bathroom. It is the perfect place. I place the shopping bags, my holdall and laptop on the kitchen table. I immediately find the key for the patio doors and slide them both open to let the clean crisp Scottish air into the house.

I lean up against the open doorway taking in the breathtaking view of the Loch. This place is so calming and for a city girl it feels so remote. It is as tranquil as I remember it.

As I gaze over the Loch, the water is completely calm, the sun reflecting off its surface. The grass in my Uncle's fields on the hillside is long and waves in the breeze. Spring flowers are beginning to appear in between the strands of grass. I take a deep breath in and close my eyes. I haven't been to this place since my Mum died but it felt like the only place to come, the only place for me to be alone with my thoughts, to somehow get through my pain. I have no plans about how long I intend to stay, a few days, a week, may be more. I will stay however long it takes.

I unpack my bag, make a cup of tea, set up the cheap mobile phone and put dressings on my wrists. I am now ready, ready to try and process all my thoughts and feelings. Try to get my head around everything and find closure as best I can.

I sit on the sofa just staring into space with everything going around and around in my head all fuzzy and blurred. It's too soon though, I can't do it, it's all jumbled and a mess inside there. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them. I can't do anything right, I'm useless and I'm alone and I'm tired. I need to sleep to forget so I lay my head down on the sofa cushion and close my eyes.

When I wake light is streaming through the expanse of the closed patio doors where I didn't close the curtains last night. I glance outside and remember how beautiful the sunrise truly is, peaceful and calm. I grab two blankets and walk barefoot out into the field beyond the garden to sit and watch the sun come up. I settle one blanket down on the dew damp grass and put the other around my shoulders.

I hug my knees to my chest and tell my mum everything about Harry.