Letters to you (Narry AU)

Letter 09

Tuesday October 18th, 2013

Dear whomever it may concern,

Whoever you are, to care enough about me to come visit me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to be the one to find me like this. I’m sorry that you’ll be having nightmares for a long time about this. But I couldn’t handle it anymore.

I’ve been so tired, I’ve given up. I’m sorry. No one was to blame for this, you can only blame me. It was my choice, my decision. It wasn’t caused by anyone but myself, by my own stupidity. I’ve lost everything, and I’m tired of pretending to be okay. Because I’m not. I’m not.

Give James to Niall, he’ll love him. Tell Zayn and Gem that I’m sorry that I lied to them, that I hid the pain from them. Tell everyone I’m so sorry. Tell Niall to open the last letter I sent him, if he is to read any of them let him read that one. Tell Zed that he’s the best person I could have ever asked to confide in, and that he couldn’t have stopped it even if he tried. Tell him he was right: I was slowly killing myself. Tell mum and dad that I’m sorry, sorry that they’ll have to bury their child, but I couldn’t do it anymore.

Everyone will get over it soon enough. And tell Niall I’m sorry that I lied in the last letter. I promised him one more, but I couldn’t keep that promise either.

Finally free,

Harry Edward Styles xx

P.S. I still love you.

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Harry’s hands shook while writing his final goodbye, James whining next to him listening to the rattling of the painkillers that Harry never took for the ankle that was now almost fully healed. A shiny little blade sat on the counter, and soon the pills joined it while Harry read over his last words. He was finally doing it, on the day he had met Niall of all times. But he was tired, fed up with acting and pretending. He was over being alone with only his nightmares and memories, alone with his blade and the demons that consumed his thoughts. He didn’t think there would be any interruptions; everyone had left him, and he’d already gone to his therapy for the day. No one would notice his disappearance until he missed his therapy session on Saturday.

Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor where he sat daily, his best mate in one hand, the bottle of pills in the other. James sadly sat at his feet, and Harry thought that the pup knew what was happening now. He thought James had realized this time was different. He felt sorry for the dog, stuck with someone as fucked up as him, but he didn’t dwell on it long.

He took the blade, drawing it across both wrists, digging in deeper than he ever had before and relished in the beautiful pain that it brought. The escape from the pain of everything else. And then, when that high had left and he began to feel drowsy, he opened the orange bottle of pills and shook a handful out onto his bloodied palm. He took them all, 5 at a time until the bottle was almost empty and his head spun. Black dotted his vision, and his hand fell. The remaining pills spilled across the floor, clattering against the tile. The sound loud in the silent flat. James whined again, sensing Harry slipping away and quickly.

The jingle of keys hit the pup’s ears, and he raced down the stairs barking wildly. Zayn- hearing the news that his mate was doing much better- decided to surprise him, visiting him with food and a smile on his face. The therapist had told him that Harry had spilled the events of that night to Niall through the last letter he had sent, and Zayn had made sure to tell Niall that this letter was the most important. Niall had read each one, never responding to the pleading words.

Zayn furrowed his brows, wondering why James was in such a panic. He stepped through the door, and quickly the dog was on him, teeth sunken into his shirt, pulling him forward. Zayn stumbles, eyebrows furrowed with confusion, dropping the bag of food that was perched in the corner of his elbow. He curses under his breath, but James tugs at him again and then he’s dropping the keys too. He calls out for Harry, but earns no response, the dog whining high when Zayn says Harry’s name. The room is dark, and Zayn thinks that’s odd because he was doing better. Finally he addresses James, asking him where he wants to go and then the dog is running up the stairs. Confused, Zayn follows, still calling out his best mate’s name.

There’s still no response, but he gets this sinking feeling in his stomach and now he’s nervous and worried. James runs back, glancing at Zayn for only a minute before running into Harry’s room. Zayn jogs to keep up, anxiety kicking in when he sees the room is empty but the bathroom light is on and the door is open. James barks, and Zayn runs into the bathroom. The sight before him makes him feel like crying and screaming and throwing up all at the same time.

He dives next to Harry holding him tightly to his chest while trying to get a response, he screams, shaking Harry and begging him to wake up. But it doesn’t work. He’s covered in blood now, but he can’t really pay it much attention with his best mate dying in his arms. He pulls out his phone, and with shaking hands dials 9-9-9. He reports the emergency, hanging up while rocking back and forth with Harry in his arms. Tears are running down his face, and James is anxiously whining behind him, pacing the floor.

All Zayn can hope is his best mate is okay, and that Niall reads that letter.