chapter six.

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Alright, thank you guys, again! I LOVE EVERYONE RIGHT NOW. Thanks for reading this story and putting up with all my nonsense! (: 

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I don't really know what's going to go down in this chapter, so I'll just gonna write and post! Sorry if it sucks ass!

Thanks again! I love you all! (:

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It was all a dream. That perfect day was just a collection of events that I created in my mind. It wasn’t real. It would never be my reality. 

Even though the kiss felt so genuine, I knew it was too good to be true. Harry doesn’t love me. He never will.

I woke up, sweating, shivering, and crying, to an empty bed. Harry was gone and I had no idea why he left.

I missed him so much. I wanted to run my hand through his curls and poke his dimples with my finger.  His presence was enough and that’s all I wanted to wake up to. I knew exactly what he would do, if I was his girlfriend. He’d chuckle and attack my face with small, sweet, delicate kisses. Harry would pull me in close and wrap the blankets around us. We would absorb each other’s warmth and then I would fall back asleep in his arms.

Why do I torture myself? Why do I imagine things like this?

Shaking my head, I pushed the covers off with my feet and sat upright. The sun was shining outside, but plenty of clouds filled the sky. Sighing, I rubbed my face with the palms of my sweaty hands. It took all the energy in me to get out of bed. I was still pretty weak from the effects of my decision to starve myself. Not only was I tired physically, but mentally as well.

Trudging to my bathroom, I did my usual morning routine. It nearly took twenty minutes because I had to sit down from fatigue. After, I opened my door and stepped out of my room for the first time in a week. Silently, I tip-toed down the stairs because my dad was probably sleeping to gain back the hours he lost at work. At the bottom, I let out a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.

This morning I was going to have a big breakfast: cereal, banana, and all. Pushing the swinging door, I almost fainted when I saw my dad sitting at the counter.

“Good morning.” He said in a monotonous tone. Adjusting his glasses that were propped on his nose, he looked up from the newspaper.

Clearing my throat, I replied,

“Good morning, dad.” I was completely surprised.

“I’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I said,

“Oh sorry, I just woke up.”

I walked over to the refrigerator and retrieved the milk cartoon.  After placing it on the counter, I continued to walk to the pantry. I could feel my dad’s eye boring into my back.

“So you’re eating now?” He grunted. Was he angry at me?

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, “I never stopped.” I pulled out the cereal and sat down across my dad.

“Mhmm,” my dad responded. He got up from his place and got a bowl and spoon for me. I thanked him and poured the cereal and milk into it. Devouring the food in minutes, my father asked me a question when I was almost done.

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