A Star Is Born

A dead end

(Jordyn's POV)

Harry and I are on our way to see my mom. We're stoped at an intersection, waiting patiently for our turn.

"There's usually not this much traffic." I explain.

"It's alright, I'm used it. This is nothing compared to La." He assure with a sweet smile.

Our hands are tangled together and our eyes are locked on each other's.

"I'm really glad you saw my sign." I blurt out, not caring to use my filter as much anymore. Not with him.

"Well is was neon yellow, quite hard to miss." He jokes, leaning in for a kiss.

His lips are the last thing I remember before I hear a deafening loud crash. But I didn't just hear it, because the crash was happening not only around us, but it was us.

It's like everything is happening in slow motion. Glass shattering as the car smashed against the Pavement, the sound of metal colliding together.

Then I see Harry's face. Terror consumes him and we lock eyes one last time before everything goes black.

I wake up in a hospital room, empty and cold. In every way. My entire body is in pain, but a pain far worse than anything I've ever felt stabs at me as Harry comes in mind.

With adrenaline coursing through my body, I gain enough strength to stand up and run out of my room. I run to the first nurse I spot and demand answers.

"Where is he?! Is he alright?!" I say frantically, almost in a shout.

"Ma'am, I need you to calm down." She pleads, placing a hand on my shoulder for comfort, but there's no time for that. I shove her hand off of me and make myself more clear.

"Where's Harry?!" I beg to know the answer.

"I-I don't know what happened," I realize as worry takes over every single ounce of my being.

"Ma'am, just try to calm down. What's your name, hon?"

"Jordyn Smith." I quickly explain, the rest of my explanation coming out in a rush. "I was with Harry Styles," this is the first time I've said his full name without it leaving a bitter aftertaste of soulless fame on my tongue. "We were driving and-

I can't remember.

God why can't I remember?!

"I need to see him! Please, just let me see him-

"Jordyn, I'll find out everything I can. Alright?" She promises genuinely. "Can you just wait in your room for me?" She pleads with gentle kindness.

I try to catch my shaky breath, giving her a nod.

Once I get back in my room, I pace in overwhelming worry. I can't explain it, but it feels like something inside me has emptied without warning or reason.

This unbearable feeling hits me so hard, it makes me sick.

Literally.

Holding my empty stomach, I rush to the bathroom and slam the door behind me.

After I've thrown up everything I was able, I pull myself up, holding onto the sink for support. When I'm able to stand up as straight as I can, I'm faced with a stranger in the mirror staring back at me.

My whole body is covered with cuts, scrapes, and bruises. That's when I notice the shape I'm really in and this causes the numbness adrenaline gifted me with to fade like a forgotten sunset. It's as if I just got hit by a train, but I'm still breathing thanks to some cruel fate.

I wash my mouth out with some water and wash my hands off, bringing the remaining water covering them to my face. When I'm about to reach the bed in my room, I noticed a doctor waiting for me.

"Miss Smith?" He speaks a formal pronunciation of my name. Dark blue scrubs and a white lab coat lay upon his dark skin. Glasses sit on the bridge if his nose, magnifying his eyes corners lined with age, experience.

"Yes?" I don't try to disguise the worry in my voice, not that I have much choice in the matter.

"Are you family of Mr. Styles?" He questions with an unreadable expression setting on his face.

"N-no." I stutter. "I'm his girlfriend." Nervously playing with the hem of the sleeve of the baby blue hospital gown someone dressed me in to my lack of recollection or consent, I try to explain myself. Worrying my answers won't be what he's looking for like those many tests I failed to pass in high school.

He lets out a dreadful sighs, turning to look at the opened door. "Do you mind if I close this for some privacy?"

"Go ahead." I permit, not reading as much into this gesture as I should've. "If I can't see him, can I at least know if he's okay?" I beg with desperation while he closes the door.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that won't be necessary. Mr. styles-

"Harry." I correct. "It's just, Harry." I add softly, knowing how much it annoys Harry when people use his full name, not to mention myself. Mr. Styles is far more intimidating and lacks approachability.

He nods understandingly. "Miss Sm-

Shaking his head subtly at himself. "Jordyn, you and Harry were in a bad car accident."

Memory's flash through my aching head as his simple explanation reminds me of the brutal scene. Pain shooting through my body like a merciless bullet as I recall it all too well. Before I blacked out, that is.

Nodding to assure him I understand, I await for him to explain himself further.

"The passenger side of the car was hit by a truck."

I was driving.

"W-What happened?" I tremble in fear.

"His head hit the windshield," Looking at his clipboard held in his hands, his eyes struggle to meet my own.

The lack of eye contact, the failed attempt to bring closure to the stories end. This can only mean one thing. Tears start to fall in a stream as I cover my mouth in shock, silence unwelcoming to distance between us.

"I apologize, Jordyn..."

No. No! Don't you dare say it-

"We did everything we could, but the trauma to his scull was to progressed-

"No." I protest in denial. "No. No! He's not. He's not..." I couldn't speak the word... once I do, it will be real and I can't live with that. I can't live with that.

"I'm so sorry,"

Not waiting for proof of a fact I already am sure of, I shove past him, turning the handle and pushing on the door, causing it to swing harshly open as I break out into the busy hallway. Running down it's seemingly never endless pathway, dodging workers as I fly past them, I soon-or an eternity later come to a dead end, empty of people. Falling to my knees, I grab a fist full of my hair with each hand as I hug my legs close to my chest, needing something, anything to hold onto so that I can hold myself together. My head falls in my lap in darkness as I shield myself from the cruelest reality ever known.

He's gone.

He's dead.

I find myself starting to curse the heavens as I weep into my knees.

"Why him?!" I cry. "He doesn't deserve this. He's too good, too kind." I demand in weakness. "Take me, not him." I beg in hard sobs. "I can't life without him." My body shakes in despair. "Please?" I plead with everything left inside me, which was less that I could admit to myself at this moment. I've never felt so incomplete, so utterly emptied of every ray of light that once shone on me like heaven breaking between the vulnerable clouds.

Where has heaven gone? I wondered.

To hell.

I can't bare to live through this. I can't choose to willingly exists in a world wrenched of him. With that epiphany, I speak my final request to the God that I felt must have forgotten me. "Kill me. Not him. Kill me. Please? Just kill me." And with one last prayer, plead for mercy, I cry myself into unconsciousness.