Deliverance [h.s.]

seventy-nine | grief

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for evermore

Evermore || Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver

*************

Harry's P.O.V.

Denial, bargaining, anger, depression and acceptance.

The 5 stages of grief.

You hear of them, you learn them and some of us are unlucky to experience them first hand within our lifetime.

The world writes it as if it comes in waves, perfect and true each time without fail. You'll see denial first, hiding behind a cloak with a taunting smile before it stabs you in the heart. He'll throw you into bargaining, begging for your life or the lives of those you love. When he casts you down, denying your pleas; anger will find you. It'll burn your skin and turn you into everything you hate. You'll spend yourself hating the world and yourself for it all until you sink. You'll sink so far down into the darkness that you won't be able to see the light any longer and that's when the depression will set in. It'll be like this forever, dark and dreary. There may be hints of light where you think you've found the way up, but it's a farce and you have not.

You will not.

And you accept that; for what it is, for what it isn't. You accept it all because you have tried everything else.

However, with all of that said, it's not true.

The stages, yes those are real. I know it because I've watched my girl, my blue, suffer through them relentlessly over the last handful of days but they follow no order. They are lawless and savage. Repeating and evil.

She was mute before the night she stopped Elias and I'd be lying if I said there were moments I didn't wish she still were.

It started then, that night, hours after their encounter while we were lying intertwined. It was as if a switch had flipped inside of her, she was unrecognizable to herself and I in an instant.

I'm not sure how long its been, but i think i've finally reached homeostasis or whatever the fuck it is they teach about in school. I wouldn't know if we were being honest, but what I do know is that my heart has found its pace, my breathing has slowed to match the same of the broken girl laying in my arms and my mind has switched to a white noise that is drowning out her still replaying screams.

My hands mindlessly ran through her hair, twisting the delicate brown pieces between my fingers as if it was gold melted in the palm of my hands. Gold, she's gold. I won the day she held a gun to my head; her money, terrible i know, and her love. Neither of us knew it then but it was settled and i would have gladly let her pull the trigger if it meant she was the last thing my eyes fell upon before slipping to a dark unknown.

"Harry," She broke the silence and for a moment I questioned if it was in my head or not, the sound of her voice so foreign and laced.

I wanted to jump at her voice, respond with eager adoration but something in me fought that instinct so instead I replied with a gentle hum of inquisition.

"You know, this is kind of all your fault. Isn't that funny?"

There was nothing funny in her tone. There was no hint of laughter or teasing on her tongue. I dont laugh. I dont move. I don't respond. I don't breathe.

Her body pulls away from mine, cold and unrecognizable. Sat in front of me, our eyes locked. There's a dark glaze to hers, like a shark settling on its prey.