Give Me Love (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Begin Again

*1 WEEK LATER*

-Story's P.O.V.-

"Leave me alone for fucks sake!" I shouted at Jenna, who was pounding violently on the metal door separating her from my room.

It was locked. Jenna didn't take too well with me skipping out on my night shots last weekend when Harry and I stayed over at my flat. She said that because of that one slip, I could be in fatal condition and that I was lucky that I came back as early as I did so that she could give me the proper shots.

Me and Harry last talked on Saturday when he stormed out of my flat. It's now Saturday afternoon. It's been a week since Harry and me have talked. I've tried text messages, calls, emails. I've even been desperate enough to message him on Twitter. Yes, Twitter. But no matter what I do, he ignores me.

I don't have any visitors. Harry was the only one. My mum and dad hate me now. They blame me for James' death. My own parents, my own flesh and blood chose to be on James' family's side and hate me. They haven't even spoken to me since the accident. Wait, that's a lie. My mum said one sentence to me. The sentence that has burnt it's own home into my brain, repeating itself over and over in my nightmares. "Your a murderer." Played again and again in my thoughts, taunting me.

All of my poems. All of my drawings. They've all been dark. Full of hatred and disgust. I don't dare admire my sketchpad and notebook like I used to. I'm frightened of my own work. My own endless misery deteriorating my body from the inside.

"Open the door, Story! You have to get your shots! You know what could happen if you don't!" Jenna said frantically.

"What!? I'll die!? Well in that case, I'm never opening that door again! I don't want to be alive! I don't want to be a personal pin cushion anymore! I'm tired, Jenna! I'm fucking tired." I shouted, getting quieter towards the end.

"Story. Please. Don't give up on me. We can still keep you ali-" I cut Jenna off.

"Keep me alive? I don't want to be alive! Did you miss that part! I just want to die gracefully. I just want to live the rest of my year at peace. Please. Stop stuffing my veins with these fluids." I said calmly, walking to the door and unlocking it.

Jenna walked in slowly with the IV bags and a few sterilised needles in hand.

"You said you wouldn't give up. You don't want to die, Story. You want to live." Jenna said softly, following me to my bed.

I crawled under the duvet and Jenna sat on the edge of my bed, eyeing me sadly.

"I know what I said. And I know what I'm saying now. I don't want this. What if these medicines aren't strong enough? What if they don't work in time? Then I would have spent my last year on this earth pointlessly. I would have wasted my time being tired, worn out, used, and sore as hell. I don't want to take that risk. I can't play chance with the moments I have. I don't want to go out like that." I said wearily.

"Okay. But what if they do work? What if you didn't give up? What if you kept fighting and then came out of all of this on top? You would be a role model for everyone. And most importantly, you would be alive." Jenna said.

"What if. That's all we can go on is 'What if'. I have made up my mind. Let me die gracefully, Jenna." Am I really saying this? Do I really mean it? Yes. Of course I do. I'm so tired of being tired.

"But Story I-"

"Let me die Jenna!!" I shouted, cutting her off again as tears spilled from my eyes.

Jenna let out a long sigh as her eyelids fell closed. She stayed like this for a moment before shaking her head, as if to rid herself of a bad thought.