My Moment / / H.S.✔

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

Dedication: Sweetjd7 Emily_776

"His voice alone sends needles down my spine

For once in my life, I felt as if everything would align

All the bad would float away with the icy breeze of the London air

Taking a step closer to his grasp, all the tormenting hurt and pain fell elsewhere

                            ~adore.~

Moment POV:

Harry hands me some money, as we both flood into the small store, running in two different directions, and looking for the materials we needed. Glancing down each aisle, I continue to search for a first-aid kit. Within seconds, I found a kit full of the materials I needed to close up my bleeding wound.

With each second the pain stung, the more my heart pounded as I imagined the immense agony I was eventually going to progress through. The thought alone of Harry stitching me up scared the shit out of me. He wasn't a doctor and I wasn't a big fan of needles. Grabbing some pain pills, I head to the check out. Buying the substances, I walk straight to the car and jump into the passenger’s seat.

Realizing the air around me was silent and no soul surrounded me, I began to sob, crying out all the tears I desperately needed to get out. All the weeping from my pain and my unfortunate life spilled out my eyes, causing me to hold my face in my hands, embarrassed of my sudden emotional actions.

Harry was still nowhere to be seen and the more my mind was left alone, the more my brain told me to get up and leave. Maybe I should run? Leave and hide away from the rest of the world. Harry didn't need this. He didn't want this type of life nor someone to take care of. Damnit, I’m 22 years old. I should be taking care of myself. My actions were hesitant to my ideas, but forcing my legs and arms to move, I rose from the car and began to walk away from all human existence. Harry was better off without me. Hell, everyone was better off without me. I need to learn to be independent and fight for myself. No one should have to do all the hard work for me.

Maybe I would survive. Live on my own. Maybe Evan would catch me, making my life a living hell. Maybe, the pain would continue on, forcing me to bleed out and die. Maybe, just maybe I could live fearlessly and happily.

The thing about each and every single hated day of my life was reality causes existence to be real. There was no safe answer. There was never a yes or no solution to my problems. Each inquire I consistently would ask only and always was replied with the same ignorant response, ‘Maybe.’ Maybe this was it. Maybe I would die today. Or tomorrow. Maybe I would live happily. Or sadly. Maybe my life was just some joke that the gods above laughed at and made fun of. ‘Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.’ All my life, that same foolish word replays over and over like a broken and record that just persistently speaks and taunts my high hopes for a successful future.

Well, my body and my soul aches. My emotions and my tears have had enough of that ‘maybe’ shit. This existence was a bloody witticism; A funny story people took amuse of. Well, I know my future and hell, it sucks. The story of my miserable life was pretty damn gloomy and worthless. But at least I knew. At least I knew for a fact that my animations in living would be taken captive by nothing but melancholy actions. There was no more ‘maybes’. No more questions and disappointing responses. I was now aware of my being and what I would do for the rest of my life. I knew that my life would end. And I knew it would end badly.