Colorblind [h.s]

36

Four knocks on my bedroom door jolt me awake, my eyes burning from lack of sleep and my body aching with exhaustion. I squint to see Niall's head peeking through the door, seeing if he woke me up.

"Hey, Vi," he whispers.

"Hey," I reply, still waking up and slightly confused as to why he's here.

"Zayn's gonna drive you home now, okay? Take your time getting your stuff together."

I nod as he shuts the door, leaving me to pack up and get out. My feet hit the cold floor as a shiver runs up my body, wincing when I shift my weight to my busted leg. Crossing my arms for better warmth, I head to the bathroom to grab my clothes and put everything in my tote.

My eyes fill with tears as I pick up my dress. The once crimson blood is now almost brown, and it's everywhere.

I run my fingers over the stain, with flashbacks of Harry falling to the ground and bleeding out in front of me hitting me all at once. With my eyes closed, I can hear the bullets rain down and feel my hands shake as I try to minimize the bleeding.

I shakily throw it in my bag, making a mental note to throw it away so I don't have to relive last night, and so my friends don't see it. I toss Bella's ruined heels in there too, their future home being a landfill.

I put my now full bag on the bed and go back to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The girls get back soon, which means I'll be spending my time trying to suppress the gala so I don't have to come to terms with how traumatic last night was. I can't deal with it, that much I know. I have to try my best to just get past it. I don't think it's hit me yet, but when it does I'd like to be as prepared as I can be. I'm going to go through it alone- I mean it's not like I can go to a therapist about this or confide in my friends. As for the boys, this was a typical evening in their line of work. There's no way they'd understand. I bet they remember their first time witnessing something like that, but the freshness of it is something they can't just remember. It's an indescribable feeling.

A lonely feeling holds me tight as I admit to myself that I'm isolated in this.

You should've stayed in the car, Violet.

My intrusive thoughts take over as I lift my sweatshirt up, revealing a pitch black bruise outlined with a deep purple color. I don't stare too long, not wanting to get even more emotional than I already am. Instead, I limp over to my bag and brace myself for the stairs.

Passing Harry's room, his door is now shut. The seventh room also has the door shut, so there's no way for me to tell which one he's in, if he's even here at all anymore. I walk up to his room, raising a hand to knock softly before bringing it back down. I shouldn't be seeing him right now, he shouldn't be seeing me. I don't even know what I'd say to him. We're not at work, after all.

I slowly walk down the stairs, breathing heavy, deep breaths as sharp pains targets my entire right side of my body with every move I make.

Zayn stands at the bottom, with Vivian next to him. He keeps his eyes on the floor, turning to open the front door. He doesn't say much, but I know he feels bad.

Vivian and I lock eyes, hers full of sadness. Looking me up and down, she turns away as she folds her arms and closes her eyes. I eventually make my way down the flight and she immediately wraps her arms around me gently, holding me close, but gently.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says in a low tone, her voice dressed in despair.

I nod my head in her arms, not wanting to cry anymore, but knowing I will if I speak.

She rubs my back up and down, pulling away after a few moments. Wiping her eyes, she says, "I'm such a wreck and I wasn't even there. I'm so sorry this happened, Violet."