Flowers In His Hair - H.S

H.S. Flowers In His Hair - 29

Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?

I wake up with a gasp, shooting from the bed. I immediately look at Aliza. She's still asleep, good. I get out of bed. No, this can't happen now. Please not now. I plead, but it's too late. My breathing is already labored and coming in short pants. 

I stumble over one of her sneakers on my way to the bathroom. It's still too close. I move to the hallway, making my way to the farthest part of the house.

Look at yourself, Harry. No. Fuck away, go. Jesus, just go. I slam my hands over my ears. My shirt is covered in sweat. Look at yourself, cherry blossom. The bile rises, but I push it down. I sit in the corner of the living room, smothering my noises with my hand. Just get past it.

Was nothing to me. It was to me! My mind yells as another sob comes. Flashes cross my mind. The first time I had to sleep on a bench, I was so scared. The hand is lifted in a not-so-nice manner. You let someone smaller than you rule you. Shame washes over me. 

Can't you see how ugly you are? NO! "Please go away, please just this once." I plead to no avail. The voice is as real as the day it happened. It's taunting me, laughing in my face. Just like every time, you said something stupid. 

My body twists at its own accord, and I heave onto the floor, my palms slapping against the tiles. I don't want to be here. I see the blue eyes. I jump up and move to the bathroom. I glance at Aliza, and she's still asleep. Maybe I can work through this without her knowing. 

I reach the mirror; my hands shake as I rest them on the counter. I stare at myself. I don't see the man I have become. I know the one I was months ago, years—the one with the pale face and dead thin body. I shut my eyes, bowing my head. Babbbbby. The voice sings to me, coaxing my eyes open. Sweat drips from me like I just took a shower.

You're not worth my time. I know, I'm so sorry. Why would you even suggest that? Who puts flowers in their fucking hair. I do. The laughter that follows is taunting. Mocking me, belittling me, and I just stand and listen. My ribs are going to break through my skin. My breathing is haggard; I can't get any fresh air into my lungs. 

I shift to the shower. The cold water hits me as I fall into it. I slide down the wall, my eyes falling shut. Open your eyes.

I look up. Yellow eyes. It's not blue like always; Aliza is staring at me wide-eyed and trembling.  No, let this be part of the nightmare. "Harry?" Her voice is small, unsure. "Don't come closer," I warn her. Cherry blossom? I'm not you're cherry blossom anymore. I turn around, leaning against the counter. 

The corners of the room start to fade.  "Harry, please tell me what to do." She pleads with tears in her eyes. You'll ruin her as you ruined us. It wasn't my fault. My lungs are wheezing. It'll be over soon; asthma is always the last step. She moves closer, and I don't stop it this time. 

I grab her when she's in reach. I don't even feel the spark when she wraps herself around me. "Your lips are blue; where is it, Harry." I'm gasping for air; my whole body is working on getting some oxygen. It feels like being shocked over and over again. 

My eyes drift from her as I relax against the wall, like a fish out of water. I'm sure that's what I look like. "Dra-" I can't finish. My body is shutting down; my hands are limp at my side as the fight leaves my body. "Harry, I'm coming back." I use the energy I have left to move my eyes to hers.

My teeth are clenched so hard together that I'm afraid they're going to chip from the tight hold, my jaw locked in a spasm.

We're underwater. "No." I don't think she hears me; it's too soft of a breath. She's gone, and my head rolls to the side again. I told you she's run. The smirk, the smirk, always got me—the cheeky smirk. Aliza comes into view again. The water turns off. She sits on my thighs.