Letters to you (Narry AU)

Letter 11

Wednesday October 19th, 2013

Dear Niall,

I’m sorry it took a day for me to respond. You can imagine how shocked I was to get a letter from you. Not just one, but two! And even more shocked when you began to apologize. You have nothing to apologize for, it was all my fault even if you try to convince me otherwise. If not for everything that happened, then for letting you go.

I sort of maybe, kind of, had heart palpitations when I saw you had responded. My nurse said nothing that could get me excited- it’s why I’m not allowed to have you see me, because my heart races every time my eyes see you- so the letter kind of made her a little angry. I calmed down soon enough, and she let me read it.

I’m glad it came from you.

To be honest, if it means getting you back I’ll do anything. Even if it means going to that stupid mental health center; going to the crazy hospital. I’m not crazy. Please tell me I’m not crazy. The nurse came in earlier with a man, who told me he was from there. The Sunny valley mental hospital, that’s where I’m going. It sounds happy, although I don’t think it will be. He told me they specialize in this kind of thing: rape. From what I’ve heard it’s just the place they send broken toys to- to get fixed. I can’t lie and say I’m not broken, but I also can’t lie and say that I think they may be able to fix me. I’m truly not all that hopeful.

Sadly, they say I’m not allowed any visitors, but they made the exception for Zayn because he’s been there since the start of all this crap. He’s kept me alive this long, they think he may help fix me too. BUT, they did say I was allowed to continue getting and sending letters to you- not you specifically just people in general, although I would quite enjoy letters from you.

I hope I haven’t guilt tripped you into talking to me again. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you only stuck around because you felt sorry for me. I don’t need pity, in fact I hate it but I’m sure you know that. But I also know you, so I don’t think its pity but recently I don’t have any ideas on anything. I’m just a lost soul I suppose, waiting to be found. God, I want to be found.

I guess I didn’t give you much time to respond to the last letter before I decided my time was up, so I’m sorry if you had some really romantic letter that you were going to send. I was actually the hopeless romantic between us- it was something I would definitely have done- but you have your moments. Go big or go home right?

I honestly can’t say sorry enough, but I feel the need to. I’m sorry, so very sorry.

I can officially say that I’ve had my stomach pumped, although I’m still very groggy. My head spins if I sit up or stand too fast, and I stumble a bit when I walk (but that’s not new, I’m gangly and awkward like a baby giraffe). They took of my restraints this morning, when they dubbed me sane enough not to try and hurt myself again. I do however have a security escort- a guard who is stationed outside my door making sure I don’t do anything stupid. Lucky for me, I don’t plan on attempting again anytime soon. I do however itch for that lovely burn of the blade. It’s become somewhat of an addiction- but speaking to you has dulled the need.

They say I can take off my cast from my ankle tonight, and tomorrow they’ll run a few tests to determine when I get to leave. Or more like when I’ll be sent away to the nut house. But I suppose that’s okay. It’s a step closer to getting better, and a step closer to being with you again.

I get to take a shower tonight too, and I have to admit that I am in dire need of one. They say that I may get to get my hair cut at the nut house. That’s something I’m looking forward to too. Although, I do pull of an amazing messy bun, girls would be jealous. But I know you like my hair shorter, and at this point it’s reached my shoulders.

Zayn says you’ll be taking care of James while I’m- erm well- unable to. I hear that James already loves you, that’s good- that makes two of us- but he’s just like you except in dog form. I’m glad you two get along. Thank you- for taking care of him that is- it means a lot to me that he won’t be sent to a pound or shelter.

Thank you for everything else too.

You mean the world to me,

Harry xxx

P.S. I love you to the moon and back (and back again).

P.P.S. Promise you’ll wait for me?