I heard muffled voices and the steady thump of the air conditioner. My droopy eyes fluttered open reluctantly. The room was white and smelled strongly of alcohol and anesthetics. I looked to find a sleeping Harry with his head resting on the side of the comfy bed. A soft whimper and tremble ran through his body. My hand reached over and ran it's long fingers through his soft curls.

His head pooped up in record speed. His eyes ready to spill over with water. He wasn't sleeping. He was crying.

"Baby?" He sniffled.

"Hey Styles." I replied with a soft smile.

The tears spill over and he ducks his head down. I lifted his head up, searching for those eyes that hypnotize me constantly. When all he did was continue crying, I spoke.

"Harry. Why are you crying? I'm fine. I'm here."

He didn't say anything. Instead he crawled into the bed next to me and buried his face in my neck. His tears kept coming. He quietened and his breath was steady and slow. He was a red faced, puffy eyed, sleeping Harry.

---

Harry. Where do I start? He is everything I could ever want. We had been seeing each other for a couple months now. He had treated me the most perfect way. We never argued. We never fussed. All we did was love. We loved until there was no more to give. And that was perfectly fine with me.

My phone interrupted my day dreaming. The ringer was relentless. Harry had gone to the studio for the day. I was alone. I peeled myself from Harry's couch and walked slowly over to my loud, ringing phone. I picked up the cold device and slid my thumb across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth! Baby I'm so sorry!"

"Mom? Mom? What's wrong?"

"Baby, your dad is back. He barged into the house and came for me. He set the house on fire. I don't know how he found me. I'm so sorry."

"Wha-" I stuttered.

The tears flowed and I couldn't control anything. I dropped my phone and fell to the floor. I curled up into a ball. I felt like someone had just ripped my heart into shreds. I could her my mom's voice through the phone speaker, before she hung up.

I sat there for what seemed like hours. Ignoring multiple phone calls.

The front door clicked open and I heard footsteps and the clattering of keys.

"Babe! I'm home!" Harry yelled.

He walked through the house in search of me. I was just too tired to talk.

He spotted me and ran frantically toward me. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"My dad. He set my house on fire and attacked my mom." I gripped Harry's shirt in my hands, holding on for dear life. I pulled him to the floor and crawled into his lap. I cried into his chest. The hole in my heart had ripped open once again and I shut down. All I wanted was to be held and to hold my worst enemy in my hands. Harry's hands combed through my soft wavy hair. The tears dried and my emotions left. I'm done.

Two Weeks later...

My eyes droop and I feel myself slipping away. I haven't slept in 2 days and Harry has left for tour. I hate everything without him. I can't function. My mom has left me. I have no one. She left about two weeks ago. I am alone and I have been staying at Harry's place. I have moved to the guest room and I use different bathroom too. I hate anything that reminds me of him. This whole house, I hate. I am bitter. I am addicted to the worst things. If Harry saw me like this, he would hate me for sure. I look around and spot multiple bags of cocaine and empty vodka bottles. I smell of drugs and alcohol. I don't cry. I don't laugh. I don't smile. I just sit. I am numb. When I'm not, I drink. drink. and drink. I can't help myself.

I finally get out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I pick up my razor,"Hello again."

Notes

Hey! this pretty much describes what i am now. sorry.

welcomee!^^

xoxo