Harry Styles' P.A

Alive

I spend a year being alive but not living. My inlaws insisted I moved in with them so they could keep an eye on me, but there's only so much you can do if someone just doesn't want to be alive. They could only prevent me from killing myself.

I ended up in the hospital trice that year from dehydration and malnourishment. I lost a lot of weight. All the extra weight I had left from the pregnancies. All the chubbyness I had before that. And more. When I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror or the reflection of a window I saw. I looked like an anorexic on heroin. Like a corpse. But I wasn't a corpse. That was the problem.

After eight months of worrying about my health, my mother's heart gave up and she passed away. Once again I stood at a grave, this time not even able to cry. I was still very dehydrated but that wasn't the reason. I was just too angry to cry. This was MY fault. My mom died because of me. She died from worrying over me. Nobody should die over me. I should be the one dying. But instead fate put me in a position where everyone I cared about died and I was now even too weak to kill myself.

When a full year had passed and even my inlaws seemed to struggle,since the date held a painfull memory for them too, I surprised them by saying I wanted to visit the graves of my family . I hadn't been there since the funeral. I just felt like I might just die right there and stay with them. No need for a funeral. That was wasted for me. I just wanted to fall alseep on the grave and never wake up again.

My inlaws carefully took me to the graveyard, taking the walk with me there, taking turns pushing my wheelchair. I couldn't even walk anymore. If I just let myself fall out of my wheelchair I wouldn't be able to get up on my own, I was sure of that.

But when we arrived at the graves I froze in the wheelchair, gripping the armrests so tight I seemed glued to it. There were pictures on the graves, showing me the faces of the three dearest people in my life, that I missed so much everyday. Pictures so that nobody would ever forget their faces, and everyone could see my loss. And I actually fell out of the chair, not able to keep myself upright, and I fell to my boney knees and hands. As I dug my sticklike fingers into the soil, I cried, so, so ,SO hard. And then two pairs of arms wrapped around me as my inlaws started hugging me and knelt beside me,rocking me gently as they cried with me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so s-sorry. I should have died instead of them! I should be lying there!"

It was the first thing I had said since the funeral and as I wailed the weight of my words crushed down on me.

"Shhhh shhh shh. It's ok, sweet girl",my father in law whispered. "It wasn't your fault,it's ok."

We cried together for I don't know how long and then they lifted me back into the wheelchair again. And as we left I felt resolve instead of pain. Kyle would've hated to see me like this. He would want me to go on. I had to go on. For them.

That night I asked my mother in law to move my wheelchair to the dining table. And for the first time in a year, I ate out of my own free will.

It took me six months of eating,drinking and therapy to literally get me back on my feet, to just have enough strength to be able to walk.  It wasn't easy but I did it. I also tried to find an outlet, or at least something to keep me occupied. So I started drawing. Singing. Sowing. Baking.

And then I heard his voice.

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*A/N: short chapter, as I don't want to keep you waiting for the main storyline for too long, but also it felt unnatural to continue in this chapter. Next chapter will (finaly) have some Harry Styles. It's actually roughly based on my own experience, as I only started listening to Harry's music after One direction already went on hiatus. See you again next chapter!*