Trust [h.s.]

XX

My father died on a Monday afternoon. That morning, he drove me to school as he normally did. When the car halted before the grand building, he pulled me close to him, pressed a kiss to my temple, then told me that he loved me. I echoed his declaration, then hopped unsuspectingly out of his car. I didn't think that that was going to be the last time I'd hear him say that. I didn't think that would be the last time I ever saw him.

When I arrived home that afternoon, Asher and my mother sat together at the kitchen table; their expressions pained and stern, an obvious air of despondency looming above their heads. After they broke the news to me-Daddy was in an accident. His car was hit by a truck and flipped on the highway. He was killed instantly-I couldn't even process what it was that I was feeling before the tears ran haphazardly down my cheeks. My shoulders trembled with sobs as my head shook back and forth repeatedly, for I refused to believe that it was my father who had been killed. These awful, tragic stories that are heard on the news are lived by other people, not us, that couldn't be our reality.

My mother caught my shivering frame seconds before it collapsed into a crumpled mess on the floor. Her own tears slipped down her face and onto my neck as heavy sobs ripped through me. Asher followed shortly after, wrapping his long arms around us both, breathing heavily as though trying not to cry. He was trying to be the strong one, trying to act as the glue holding what was left of our family together. But he cracked, and he too released loud and wavering weeps that rumbled through his chest and vibrated off his lips.

"I will never," My mother heaved in between sobs. "Never leave you." Her voice cracked, a new round of tears springing from her eyes, then spiraling down her red, blotchy cheeks. "I'm here forever," She cried. "I'm yours for good."

As I sat in the backseat of Louis' black Range Rover, I could practically hear those words of my mother echoing throughout my head. I craved nothing more than her nurturing touch, forcing myself to imagine as though her arms were around me, rather than admitting to myself that I may never see her again. I wondered what she was doing, how she was doing. I tried to imagine what she would think of Harry, then pictured the two of them meeting. Harry would cook a wonderful dinner for us all, and at first my mother would disapprove, deeming Harry too old or too dark for me. But when she saw the way Harry and I looked at each other, the way we connected, the way my lightness perfectly complimented and contrasted Harry's darkness, she would smile at me and offer her blessing.

I felt a new round of silent tears slip down my cheeks as I imagined impossible scenarios as such. I craved nothing but normality, yet somehow, I received anything but. My brother was missing, my mother was alone, and the only person I had left in the world had just been ripped away from me. I felt alone and impotent. I wanted Asher beside me, I wanted my mother squeezing my hand, I wanted Harry's fingers running through my hair as his lips ghosted against my ears, promising me that everything would be alright. I wanted to be surrounded by all of my loved ones, but it seemed as though I never truly got what I wanted in life.

"Ellie," Niall called me from the passenger seat of the car. His lips smacked together as he chewed the pizza that Harry and I ordered. They must have taken it from the delivery man before we left without my noticing. "Have somethin' t' eat, will ya?"

I shook my head. "I'm really not hungry." I told him meekly.

"That's no excuse." Niall declared, pulling a piece from the box, then passing it to me. The gooey cheese bubbled on the surface, its savory aroma wafting through my nostrils, triggering a growl in my stomach.

"I know you're upset Ellie, but try to eat it." Louis offered, keeping his eyes glued to the road as he spoke. After three slices of pizza, I finally fell asleep. It felt refreshing to be temporarily relieved of the overwhelming sadness that I was feeling. As I dozed off, I imagined myself in bed, lying next to Harry as his arms pulled me close to him. I could practically feel the sensation of his lips pressing against my temple before I fell unconscious.