DYSTOPIA [hs] |Complete|

xix - Perturbation.

warning: this was actually hard for me to write as there are sensitive themes mentioned. i do suggest you continue reading as you will gain a greater perspective of harry's character, but if you do experience any sort of discomfort or personally experience this then please talk to somebody. anybody is always willing to listen.

chapter song; fly down - stephen

     I stumbled backwards, ending up stepping on Harry's feet and slamming my back against his chest. He grunted softly but regained posture as he held me by my forearms. The smell brought on the urge to chuck up and clouded my eyes so I felt like I was almost in like a daze.

     "What do you mean it's not your fault?" Lark harshly spat.

      Harry's touch against my left arm disappeared until I realised he fisted the material of Lark's puffer vest. "You best get your ass out of here, Lark."

    "She — She's a kid. She killed her fucking parents!"

     "Language," she whispered and tilted her head as she stared at us with widening eyes. "Language!"

     I raised my hatchet and begun to take a step forward but was pulled back by a sudden force. I turned my head to see Harry pull out his gun and nodded towards me. Almost instantly the shot was fired towards the girl until the sound of piercing flesh could be heard. The monkey was the first to fall, the little girl staggered until her legs completely gave out which led to her imminent fall.

     The blood from the bullet wound trickled down her nose and parted, like a river simultaneously flowing on opposite ends. With knobby knees and shallow breaths I turned away and began to exit the service station. Through stumbles over debris and a feeling of nausea did I finally make it outside. After what felt like an eternity of suffocating was I able to breathe in the fresh air. Gasping for the oxygen I felt restricted of.

     For a moment I had forgotten of my surroundings and did a quick scan of the area, noticing nothing but the Land Rover and the isolated gas station. There was a sudden pulsing urge in my stomach and I knew my body was rejecting every content I had consumed. I stumbled over my own feet as I ran and without warning lurched over and threw up. My body heaved forward, tears trickling down my cheeks as I unforgivingly emptied what felt like my entire insides.

     I felt quick hands hold back my hair and softly stroke my back. The heaving had come to a stop, and unattractively saliva dripped down my chin after coughing. There was a familiar feeling of déjà vu from the time Harry and I had hit a walker whilst driving and he had attended to me even through the disgusting matter.

     "You okay now?" Harry asked lowly, still running his hand over my back. I nodded, coughing a few times as I did. "Here." My hair was slightly pulled upwards as he bent over and produced a half empty bottle of water. No exchange of polite expressions were given as I gargled a sufficient amount of water before expelling the liquid from my burning throat.

     He helped me stand to my feet. My vision was slightly impaired, littered with blackness for only a second once all the blood rushed to my head. But after a few seconds the hinderance disappeared so I was feeling a lot more progressive than previously. I felt Harry's fingers carefully trace down the side of my jaw before he held the base of my chin with his forefinger and thumb.

     "You all right?"

     I nodded sheepishly. "Just had a moment. Unfortunately I don't have a stomach of steel."

     "For a moment I wasn't going to have one either. You need to chew your food better."

     I grimaced at his accusation which resulted him to drop his hand and instead smooth his hair away from his face and behind his ears.