Harrison Avenue // H.S.

Just Like Her

This one jumps back in time and it's a definitely a side of this story that I haven't really explored yet so I'M EXCITED ABOUT IT. I'll talk more at the end of this, but so we know where we are in the timeline- this is right after Harry goes home when he tells Elle that he loves her and she runs away.

[Harry]

            

I'm standing in a kitchen, my head sore and my legs feeling weak. I'm surrounded by people I don't even know, sulking in my own despair, and that's when it hits me.

I've turned into her.

It's not in the good way either, because taking on some traits of Ellison isn't a bad thing. She can be brave, and she's so smart, she isn't afraid to be herself in the truest way possible, and when it comes down to it there's so much of her that's just really good. I haven't turned into her in any of those good ways though. I've just taken the cowardly, drown your sorrows in substances, and run away- like physically run away- parts that make Ellison, Ellison... and now that's who I am.

I've turned into her.

At one point, I tried to convince Elle that all you needed was a hug, and everything- well, maybe not everything, but most things could be fixed. That doesn't feel true anymore though, or at least not right now it doesn't.

"Another one?" there's a voice next to me. They're commenting at the fact that I'm pouring myself more to drink even though I probably should take a break considering I've been standing at this kitchen counter for an hour, consistently putting more and more in my cup, sulking, sulking, sulking.

When I look up to the voice my vision is already a bit blurred, which is enough of a sign that I probably do not need another. The alcohol keeps pouring into my cup though and I don't want it to slow down. I want to know how this is supposed to feel.

The voice belongs to a girl and the first thing I think is that she's pretty, but the second thing I think is that she isn't as pretty as Elle.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I'm trying to get fucked," my voice has a bit of lightness to it, but I can't tell you where it comes from. I'm miserable.

"Any, special occasion?" she smiles, grabbing the bottle of alcohol from my hand so she can pour it in her own cup. "And would you like some company?"

She doesn't sound like Elle. Her voice has a light-heartedness to it that was maybe in Elle on a really good day. And this girl has an English accent like me. She doesn't look like Elle either. Her hair is almost black it's so dark and her eyes are missing the intensity of Ellison's. This girl isn't the company I want, she's not the girl I want... but I feel desperate right now, desperate for something to make me feel something, anything, besides numb.

And I don't want to answer her question, because what am I supposed to say?

I'm trying to get so drunk that I won't be able to think about the girl who broke my heart.

I'm getting smashed because I told a girl that I loved her and she ran away, actually ran away.

Or maybe, I'm drinking my weight in alcohol because I'm pathetic and I couldn't love her enough to make her love me back... and I've realized she doesn't have to love me back, but I just can't believe that she doesn't yet.

I don't want to answer this girls question because there isn't a good answer.

"I'm trying to forget about someone, trying to drown them out," I tell the girl, taking a drink from the cup in my hand. "Company... that could be nice."