Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 7

I am my own hypocrite. I'm my own brain washer and tormentor, my own depressant and blade; I'm what breaks me down. I say I love Harry, then turn against my heart and say that I hate him. I'm hurting myself by hurting him and I don't even realize it. It took that one hallucination to make me see how much damage I've caused him. I guess seeing him on the verge of death woke me up. It might've only been a vision, but it came with a feeling. Like it was real, as if he was begging me through spirit hoping I'd hear his desperate call. I talk a lot of trash about him, I suggested that we see other people, which is a load of bullshit, I pushed him away claiming I didn't need him when really, without him in my life, I'm miserable. I claim I'm unhappy with him, but I'm not. I'm just stupid.

With my heart pounding mercilessly through my aching chest, the car rocks side to side as the tires burn and screech against the road. I'm not sure what I'm going to do or say or how I'm going to explain myself for showing up, but I can't let this feeling go unless I'm sure he's alright. I need to physically see him unharmed to ease my nerves and thoughts.

I speed up Harry's street and my heart is going to explode any second now. His car is parked on the lawn and his front door is wide open.

Please don't let that vision be real.

I slam my car door shut and bolt up his stairs. The sun is shining brightly, almost too beautiful for such an ugly day, and the trees are full of life with leaves and vibrant colors of them. The second I step in the house, silence fills it. Not one thing has been touched or broken, everything is intact and normal without one single scratch and I hold my breath in hopes of hearing something.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me and bullying me because of what I've done. It's the guilt that's consuming me. I've tried to be strong and stick up for myself by leaving him but it has only made me worse. The guilt of all I've said and done is what's creating the barbed wire around my lies and claims, torturing and creating a barrier to my happiness.

I walk farther into the house, cautiously taking small steps on my tip toes to not startle him in case he's near. I want to call out for him, but I'm afraid to. The silence is eerie and too much; I feel as if I'm deaf in both ears. I walk to the basement door and stick my head in, attentively listening to see if I hear any keys playing but just like the rest of the house, it's quiet. He usually goes down there when something is bothering him. Knowing he isn't there only scares me more.

He has to be here. His car is outside.

My fingers shake gripping the railing while I walk up the stairs and I'm praying to God that he hasn't done anything to himself. I'm praying with all my heart, soul, and body that he's still alive. I'm crazy to think he would do something like that, but since the first breakup, all he had told me was, "I'd die without you" and I never took it literally until now. I'm just worried for him. I'm worried because I know I'm the fault.

Midway up the stairs, stuck in my thoughts and distracted by them, I hear a sudden clash and glass break, followed by a shout of anger, almost like a muffled growl of pain and I waste no time running up. I'm scared as hell but I need to stop him before he does anything stupid; especially over me.

I stumble forward to his black door, taking in the sight of the large crack running down it as if lightening had struck it, and I hear glass break again. With the wood living off it's hinges, my frothy heart is aching and twisting with anxiety and I hope he isn't how I pictured. I'm not ready to lose him forever.

The door creaks as I push it open and I gasp at the havoc before me. His desk is broken in two, everything from his bureau is scattered all over the floor, his mirror is cracked and shattered with the reflection of the room distorted through it, his closet doors are open and broken; cracked and has fist holes through them, the walls have them as well; holes everywhere with blood stains, his Monster and Beer bottle collection is trashed on the ground, and his window is completely gone. The only thing left of it are pieces of glass sticking out from the window frame.