Autumn Leaves (Ed Sheeran)

Chapter One.

Ed walked through the front door of his flat, where an unexpected visitor was waiting for him. "Harry?" He stared at him as the younger boy stood up and gave him a look of sympathy and fatigue. Ed knew he was exhausted from all the touring him and the others did. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard about you and Taylor." He gave Ed as tight of a hug as he could. "I know how much you loved her, bro."

"I did," he breathed as a tear went down his cheek. "I loved her more than anything."

As the young lad pulled away, he wiped the ginger's tear with his sleeve. "Now what do you say we go get drunk at the pub across the street?" he asked softly.

To Harry's surprise, Ed shook his head and sat down on the couch with Autumn's journal in his lap. "I can't stop thinking about that damn café."

"What café?" He picked up the book from his friend's lap and read the title. "And whose book is this?"

"It's this girl's journal; her name's Autumn. I met her at the café I just came back from. She had to go and just handed me her journal to read."

"She let you read this?" Harry opened the book and read the very first entry, the same one Ed was reading at the café. "Oh my God," Harry muttered as he finished. "That's horrible."

"I know. I can't shake this feeling of... of wanting to save her from that house. I want to save her from that life."

"Do you think you can do it?"

Turning to him with deep blue orbs filled with pain, he resisted the urge to cry again. He knew he would most likely fail, but he refused to go his whole life without trying. "I won't give up until one of us is dead," he replied firmly. "And if I don't make it in time, it'll be her."

"Ed..."

"Don't try to talk me out of this, mate. You know I won't listen. You didn't see her in that café with the blood stain on her sleeve and the whirl of emotion in her eyes. I need to save her. I have to."

"Don't do anything stupid, at least. Can you do that?" Ed hesitated before nodding. "Good."

"One question though." Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's the real reason why you're here? Surely it's not just to comfort me about Taylor and take me to a bar?"

"Actually, no. You'd think though. I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

He sighed. "I will be if I'm not now." As Harry put the journal down on the coffee table and walked out, he picked it up and read the second entry dated the night after.

Dear Diary,

I could dig deep into my soul and find many beautiful nightmares I have dreamt. Some were dreams of my mum returning home with the same personality of my father; some were dreams of my father murdering me and Jack. Nights have been terrible for me, what with waking up shaking or even crying. I'm a monster.

I haven't eaten in three days; I'm proud of myself for the first time in a while. Yes, I am anorexic. It started with a girl at school calling me fat, and I guess it went downhill from there. My mind is spinning. I feel sick. I hope my father didn't hit me against

After a moment of staring at the unfinished entry on the page, he tossed the book next to him on the couch in more shock from this entry than the last. He knew the events in her life and the things about her were bone chilling, but how suspenseful and shocking could they get? Was this the worst of them or was she broken beyond repair? He walked out the front door and back into the bitter cold, dialing a number. "Stu," he said once the phone beeped to indicate the beginning of a voicemail, "I need a private investigator or something as soon as you can get it. Call me." Hanging up the phone with the journal in his other hand, he set out to the same café he'd left just minutes ago in hopes to find her there and maybe give her the journal back before it's too late.