Legendary // H.S

61.

'It would be a hundred times easier

If we were young again'

*

Harry

Atlas rarely leaves our bed for longer than an hour these days.

Before the funeral was worse, where she wouldn't even speak or eat. She wouldn't shower, move or sleep. She'd just lay there, drowning in her grief. Though I've tried to help her as best as I can, I know I'll never understand the pain she's feeling because I've never had someone in my life that I've held onto as tightly she did her Dad. Until I met her, that is. If I lost her, I don't think I'd be able to go on with my life. To live without Atlas is unfathomable.

Since the funeral, she has come downstairs every day, though, which is progress. Every afternoon at 1pm, she'll leave the bed, tie her hair up, and sit in the garden for an hour. I joined her the first few times, but we didn't speak. We've barely spoken for weeks. After that I decided to leave her to it, not wanting to disturb her healing process. The fact she even gets up is huge. Just last week she still hadn't moved. That same position being laid in, myself on the floor next to her. All I want to do is hold her hand, to tell her that everything will be alright, but how can I when I've never grieved someone? It would feel disingenuous of me to even act like I do.

Instead, she sits in the peace of her own company, staring up at the sky in silence. I've noticed her talking to herself some days. I instantly knew it was her way of speaking with her dad. Just a few words when she feels like it. I don't know what she says, I don't dare eavesdrop, but sometimes it lifts a weight off her chest enough for the sullen look behind her eyes to disappear for a few minutes. It comes back immediately after, but the fact that there's a small glimmer of hope gives me some relief.

It hurts to see her like this. I want to absorb everything she's feeling so I can help her, to bring her back to me. I love her so much; in some ways I can feel the pain too. It radiates off her body into mine, my limbs clenching and heart aching with every passing second. I wish I could tell her how I feel, how important she is to me, but to do so right now would be selfish. She's not in the right head space to process that information, and I'm not even sure if she feels the same. Before her father passed, there were subtle hints that maybe she felt it, but since then I cannot read her. She's numb. Empty.

The crying has cut down, but the nightmares remain. Each night she wakes in a sweat, screaming her heart out until we both find a way to soothe her. It's never easy, but some things have helped. Sometimes music will help; I'll whistle a tune that she recognises from her dad or make up my own. Other times, just sitting next to her in the shadows of the room is all I can do. She rarely lets me touch her. I know why.

While she hasn't explained her nightmares to me it is obvious what occurs in them. I know that her demons have come back to haunt her with a vengeance, her father now a part of it. If I touch her she only screams louder. Whatever happens in them, they terrify her. I want to kill every person that's caused this. Peter and Hugo are at the top of my list right now, that much is clear.

The anger I feel every time she finally calms, when she's settled into a sleep again, it keeps me awake all through the night. It boils the blood running through my veins and threatens to erupt in a fury. I cannot sit idly by and watch her go through this knowing those that have caused it get to face another day, completely unscathed and unharmed. It is not right for evil to walk among us and continue to break the good. They must be eradicated.

I'm not sure how I'll retaliate, but the longer I leave it the more likely it becomes that I'll act on impulse. I want it to mean something, I want them to feel everything she has, but how can you hurt someone that feels nothing? How can you ruin someone in the same way as their victims when it's not possible to do so without feeling guilty? My conscience never used to get in the way of things like this. At first it did, but for a while I've questioned the necessity of it. When I started accepting my feelings for Atlas it was like my senses returned and remorse became a constant feeling.