41 ║ Broken

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November 1st

It was violent. Soon enough, Elton John's voice couldn't be heard when the loud sound of breaking glasses took over the cheerful music. The Ford Ranger was kicked all in a sudden with full force; both their bodies were turned into fragile rag dolls. Harry's head hit the window and he whined in pain and fear among the chaotic noises. All over again. He felt like he was thrown back months ago, when he took his mother's car secretly to go to this concert, when it had all happened. Suddenly, among the terrible scary scene, he came to wonder what would happen to him this time. Would he be deaf? Or would it be the end this time? He let his body fly in the car, trapped behind his seatbelt, listening to the car hitting the ground all over again, wondering when it would stop. The windscreen had been smashed, rocks and dust were hitting his tears covered face several time. When his skull hit the window again, he fell unconscious. There was no sound, no movement, nothing more than the heavy silence.
After the metallic coffin had rolled over several time, it had stopped on the left side in the middle of a field. Harry slowly opened his eyes after a couple of minutes, coughing loudly as he felt his tears fall down his cheeks, some trapped into his lashes. His chest hurt but he could hear himself whine painfully, he could move his full body. He felt almost fine if there wasn't the throbbing pain in his head and arm from the accident. He felt strangely lucky to be alive, not having anything taken away from him this time. He pulled on the seatbelt that was tightening his chest. Carefully, he reached for the button and clicked, falling on the door. He whined loudly when he felt a piece of glass dig into his shoulder through his top. How could he be so unlucky, was he cursed? He lifted his arms to feel Louis, but he could only feel the seat? There wasn't anyone, no body left at the conductor place. He touched the seat, frowning, his hot tears mixing to the dripping blood.

"Louis?" he called weakly.

Louis couldn't have left him, right? Maybe he went to call for help? He kept silence in hope to hear a respond but there was no voice, neither near him, nor far. Nothing but his heart beating loudly in his ears and the rain. He slid his hand across the car door, grabbing the handle and pulling on it, the door wasn't opened, Louis hadn't left. He stood up carefully, a hand over his head. He held onto the side of the car and painfully lifted himself onto his hands. It was hard to slid his legs over, but he managed to escape the vehicle. He was sobbing loudly when he laid on the ground. He breathed in and was relief when he didn't smell any kind of petrol. He called for Louis again, but nothing came back to his ears. The fear running through his veins were making his heart speed violently against his rib cage. An almost painful whistling sound was reverberating into his ears. He slid his fingers over his pocket, he could feel his phone through it. He unzipped it quickly, worried and took his phone out.

"Call 999!" he said to his phone.
"Calling 999..." the female voice replied.

All in a sudden, the usually very annoying female voice sounded like the most reassuring sound he had ever heard. He focused on tones before if answered. Once he heard the masculine voice from the other side of the phone, he almost shouted:

"We just had a car accident. We're... we're somewhere, I don't know... My boyfriend, he has disappeared... I don't know where he is..."
"Calm down sir, what do you see around you? Can you give us any indication?"
"I can't see..." he said.

His heart was beating fast into his chest, he swore he could almost feel it going back up into his throat, ready to be thrown up.

"What do you mean, sir?" the man asked again.
"I am blind, I can't see anything. I can't give you visual indication. Please, we need help, I don't know where's my boyfriend..."

He couldn't even manage to comprehend what the man was saying on the line. It was just pain and fear and anxiety kicking into his body. He felt numb. He was laying on the grass in the middle of nowhere, a piece of glass lost into his flesh, his whole body sore and his boyfriend was missing. It was a nightmare. Was he dead and lost in his own hell? Alone, blind, helpless and hurt.

FINGERTIPS ║ Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now