Picking Up the Pieces // Harry Styles

Prologue

Marisa, can I just like love you omg. You've like supported me with every single one of my stories. i love you girlie. I wish I could dedicate like this whole freaking story to you. <33

Okaaay, so deleting No Matter What would be waaaay to extreme so I'm keeping the story. (Zolivia shippers go YAYY!) i don't know what I was thinking. I was kinda in a bad mood. I'll be posting two chapters of this (the chapters are like super duper short in my notebook so yeah. i'm being nice today!) Enjoy! :)

Complete credit to LoversFinalStand for a bit of her poem below. She's on Quizilla and I don't normally go on there, but happened to come across one of her poems. :)

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"Nobody can drag me down

Not like I can 

I always seem to be losing myself

Honestly I've tried so hard 

As the years go by 

I wonder if there's really any hope 

They try to give me hope

I'm dragging myself down 

Past the ground 

Into the water 

Where I know I'll drown

If somehow I become good enough 

If somehow I love myself 

If somehow I am happy 

Then maybe I'll be free"

Four years, 1,460 days, and 35,040 hours trapped in the same white room.

Four years of tears, screaming, kicking, and one too many suicide attempts.

Four years, trapped in my own venomous mind, but now, finally free.

I quietly packed my suitcases with the clothes I brought with me, careful not to wake my roomate, May. She just needed to gain ten more pounds, then maybe she could finally cross off 'Eating REAL macaroons in Paris' off her bucket list she kept under her pillow. I squeezed her frail hand, whispering 'goodbye, beautiful', and tucking my little goodbye note by her.

Zipping up my suitcases, I rolled them outside to the lobby of the rehab. Nurses no longer gave me looks of pity like when I first walked in here, but now proud looks and big smiles.

In this battle with myself, I won.

"Scarlett Elaine Robinson, nineteen." I told the clerk at the front desk. "Checkout."

She smiled a little as I did too. It felt so good to be - wait. Was I really about to say this?

I was happy for once.

"Birthday, hun?"

"Week from today, ma'am."

"Happy early birthday, sweetheart." She handed me two fifty pences (fifty cents for you americans. USA! USA! lol) with a little smile. "Choose wisely."

My last phonecall at Bayberry Clinic.

"I will." I walked to the phone booth, slipped the coins in, dialed Ed's number, and waited anxiously for him to pick up. I waited and waited, realization hitting me in the face, tears of joy already spilling over.

"Scarlett?" I heard him say. "I told you not to call unless you were finally better. Has the day come?" I started to hear a little grin in his voice.

As harsh as it sounded, he really wanted me to get better. Each time I got the change for that one phone call, I gave it to May, allowing her to call her parents as I jealously wished, they'd actually call or send me a letter.

Ed gave me that twisted motivation.

'You can't call me till you get better.'

'You can't call until you're happy again.'

It hurt sometimes, when I couldn't call my best friend or he'd hang up when I said I wasn't, but it all paid off and honestly made this phonecall more special.

"E-Ed," I couldn't hold it in any longer. I cried over the phone, holding on tightly to the booth so my knees wouldn't buckle from underneath me.

"S-Scarlett, sweetie, you all right?" Ed sounded worried now as the happy tears trickled down my face. I tried to compose myself, wiping away my tears and sniffing for the bajillionith time.

"Ed, I-I'm free."