Save Me (In Editing)

Chapter 8 - Harry

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things" - Lemony Snicket 

                                                            *******

I unlocked the door to my flat, storming in and slamming it behind me. Why did she have to bring it up, they always bring it up. Always, they asked what made him so dark, so sullen, so brooding. Normally, he said that he had always been like that, but the truth was much worse. 

What had happened was to bad, I had been trying to erase it from my memory completely. With drink, with women, with drugs. Nothing worked. When the high was over, when the hangover completed, when she left the flat, I still had my memories. The memories of walking towards Georgetown's Law School, my mates by my side, and the ring of my cell phone. The memory of my hometown's head policeman on the phone, saying that I needed to come home, though not telling me why. I remember the urgency in his voice, which made me pack my bags and hop on the next plane to the UK. I recall meeting the whole Holmes Chapel police force at the airport, the grim look on their faces tearing me apart. The worst memory of all, the one I tried to wipe from my memory the hardest, is seeing the cold, grey faces of my parents, and Jesse, my seven year old sister, laying on the morgue beds. 

The thought of them, dying when a lorry decided to turn them into pancakes, without saying goodbye to me, had torn them apart. Little Jesse, who hadn't died in the accident, but in the hospital a few hours after my parents, scared as she laid in a coma. It had been too much for me, driving me partly insane. I had thrown a fit, refusing to leave them behind, claiming that I woud live out of the morgue before I would leave them. 

For a while, I was incarcerated, sitting day after day, watching the shadows from the bars across my window dance across the floor. Every day, on the white cotton bed, reliving every moment of those days. The days when I sat happily with my family, around the table, laughing over one of Dad's funny experiences at work. Discussing what I would do in college, while Jesse asked if she could turn my room into her ballet studio. 

When I got out, after bribing one of the doctors, with my body, I was changed. I didn't take interest in the things I used to. I didnt care about backing up the law, but more with breaking it. Being successful didn't have the same appeal it use to. My feet had been taken out from under me, and I was too weak to push myself up. When, Brikena, my girlfriend back at uni, broke up with me, it didn't come as a surprise. I was a drunk, living out of my old house, which had been recently siezed by the bank, wading in memories. 

People say that loosing love is the worse thing that can happen to you, I disagree. The worst thing is loosing hope. I lost my love, the love of my family, and I lost hope. 

That is why I lost it when Poppy asked what happened to me. It only made things more painful, harder to forget. As I slammed my Jeep car keys on the counter, I opened the fridge, stocked with beer...and then more beer, and opened one. My intent? Forgetting as soon as possible, even if only for a short time 

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A/N: this is short, I know, but its packed with info about Harry's past.