365 Days | H.S (ON HOLD)

365 days | Chapter 1

~VERY IMPORTANT TO READ THE PROLOUGE IF YOU WANT TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY, FYI U KNOOOOOW~

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''I'm gonna miss you so much, Harry'' my mother cried when she hugged me, for the hundredth time. I hugged her back, with a small laugh escaping my lips.

''I'm gonna miss you too, mom'' I said.

''Please, call me when you arrive'' she begged.

''I will, I will'' I sighed.

Planes. Flying. I never liked flying. To be completely honest that was probably the only thing I was afriad of. And I couldn't decide if it was because of the scaring thought of falling and dying, or the fact that I didn't have any control over what was happening. But there I was, waving goodbye to my and my best friend's family while we hurried to our gate.

We soon boarded the plane. My best friend, Louis, was the one excited for this. Moving to USA, and starting a new life while working at his uncles company. I was mostly glad he was happy, and I knew that at least now I had a chance to become something, and not end up working at my mothers coffeshop in Bristol.

''How long is the flight, exactly?'' I asked as fast as I settled down in my seat.

Louis laughed at me, as he rolled his eyes.

''You pussy. You weren't scared joining the army, but scared of a small flight over the ocean? Come on'' he laughed, and I stared at him, waiting for him to answer my question, ''The flight is nine hours and fifteen minutes, and after that, we are in Seattle!'' he happily cheered and I sighed, before nodding my head and turning it to the small window next to me.

''I cannot wait''

There was one more fear I hade developed throughout the last two years. It was a fear I had started to believe would actually never fade.

Already as a young boy, I always wanted to become someone big as my father was. Both of us always thought that joining the army as a seveteen year old would be a great choice, because we both thought I was made for it. But mostly I wanted to impress my father, and maybe it was teenage stupidity or the need of having my actual father in my life that made me do it. The divorce between him and my mother made me somewhat weaker and afraid of losing either him or my mother. He was a First Lieutenant before he ended up with cancer year 2003, and died a month after I returned after my missions in Iraq.

Sad ending to a father-son relationship. But in truth, looking back at it, I never had it, that special bond with him. It was always distance and never true. However it left a big deep hole, and it made everything worse.

When I returned from Iraq in 2005, was it impossible for me to come back to reality, the death of my father probably making it all even worse. All the deaths, the screaming, the shooting - all that stays in every scar you get from every battle. I was eighteen, when I got to Iraq, in 2003. When I got there, I was brave. I was ready to die, to save others. Fear of dying was nothing to me, I couldn't feel it. But as months passed, everything inside me felt weaker. It is nothing like in movies like most people think, but even worse it wasn't like I actually imagined it all to be either.

You shoot, bang, move on. No.

It's a paus, before you shoot. Everything stops around you, and you only watch the person you are soon going to take the last breath from. You watch it, and before you shoot you need to imagine all the horrible things it had done. It's either you dying, or him. And you can't think about justice, just the evil. Then, you shoot, bang, killed. His life is over, but you keep on fighting and hope that you'll soon forget everything horrible.

But you can't move on from memories, because that's what your soul is made of as people say. And you can't move on from your soul. So everything I did, every memory of everything I saw, it all stayed, and did never let me go. And that's the fear I've developed. The fear of never coming back to the true me, like I was before Iraq.

Flashback
The day was November sixth, when I returned to life. And the first thing I did, was to try remembering everything from the last time I was awake. I carefully moved my arm, and it did hurt, but I knew it was healing. I slowly opened my eyes.

''Well, look who is awake'' a light voice said, and I slowly turned my head where the voice came from.

I then rememberd the brown haired guy from the army shaking my body and trying to get me up, and as I turned I met the grey eyes again, laying in the bed beside me. I looked around. Grey walls were around us, with windows without glass. We were in the military hospital, surrounded by other beds with dying soilders, that either were deadly silent, or screaming in pain. My eyes landed back on the grey eyed young man, in the bed beside mine. He was sitting up in his bed, having scratches over his face and his brown hair over his eyes, but yet he smiled.

''Hey..'' I said before I coughed, and carefully raised my body up in the bed before I sat down at it. It squeezed.

''Damn, you were hard to get up from the ground'' the brown haired guy laughed.

I looked at him and tried to smile.

''I'm sorry'' I said, ''But thank you, you saved my life''.

''Well, I couldn't just let you die, couldn't I?'' he laughed, again, ''British too, I hear''.

''Yeah, Bristol''

''Birmingham'' he said, ''You are young'' he suddenly pointed out.

A small laugh escaped my lips, before I slowly nodded my head.

''Eighteen. You don't look that old either'' I admitted.

''Twenty''

A scream was heard at the end of the long corridor, and both of us looked towards where the scream came from. Nurses ran from one soilder to another, trying their best to quickly help them as much as possible. It was a horrible sight. Blood, men without arms or legs, screaming while they were pale as paper.

''God, so much blood'' I sighed and turned my head back to the brown haired guy.

''We will get used to it'' he honestly replied with his light voice.

''I'm Harry'' I slowly said and stretched myself out of bed to reach the guy, ''Harry Styles'' I continued.

''Louis Tomlinson'' the guy said, and shook my hand, ''Nice saving you, my friend'', but as he said that, something flashed in his eyes and he quickly let go of my hand before picking something up from the small table in between us, ''I almost forgot, you had this in your hand'' Louis then said, and reached his hand to me again, holding a piece of paper.

I looked at the piece of paper he reached to me, before I took it. I almost lost my breath, as my eyes landed on her blonde hair and gorgeous smile, again. It was the photograph.