Rescue Me [H.S.]

21. Silence

A sombre atmosphere surrounds us the very next day. We are not exactly ignoring each other, but we're not talking either, both lost in our own thoughts. I'm just dragging my feet around his apartment, throwing some clothes in a tiny suitcase. I'm not fully aware of what I'm doing; at one point I'm standing next to my suitcase, frozen, then my sight gets blurry from tears. 

It really was too good to be true. Him and me. Harry and Victoria. Headlines would usually be; One Direction frontman and his lovely girlfriend Victoria. Now it is: Harry, former member of 1D who abandoned said band, and his damaged girlfriend. I had ruined everything for him. The band and and the millions of fans that now accused me, rightfully, of tearing the band apart, hate him. 

Yesterday when I agreed to go into rehab had been an emotional hard day. There had been so many questions; what about school? Which facility? What would happen to me there? What about when I got out? Most of these questions were still unanswered. But they have plagued me so much that I hadn't thought about Harry's future and what he would do. He had left One Direction. Hopefully for his own sake.

A throbbing headache had pained me since yesterday along with the urge to cut. I could almost feel the smooth, cold blade running over my skin; letting all the pain and guilt out when the blood would ooze down my skin. But a girl had died trying to get Harry's attention by cutting. And no matter what people say, it is my fault. Had I not been Harry's cutting girlfriend, she would still be alive. Because of that I will not cut - at least not now that my wrists are getting so much attention. But I am struggling in the fight with my own mind. You're fighting yourself... and you're losing. You always have been losing. And then the memories come flooding back.

* * *

"Victoria! I KNOW YOU'VE HIDDEN THE BOTTLE! WHERE THE HELL IS IT?" My 11-year-old heart was beating abnormally fast and I was whimpering, sitting on my bed, clutching my legs while rocking back and forth. I knew that my mother couldn't get me when I was in my locked room, but I could still her hear frustrated shouting. But my mom was wrong. I had not hidden the vodka bottle, I had emptied it. But if I told her that I would end up at the hospital again. And my mother would be forced to come up with yet another ridiculous lie about where I had gotten my marks and scars.

* * *

Three years later and I was no longer terrified of my own mother. Just disgusted by how pathetic she was. Her mean words no longer bothered me, and even when she shouted, I didn't hear her. I had found a method to cope with the shame of her being my mother, and the shame of being the loser that I was: cutting. I had no friends, but I could get through the day just by thinking about the sweet relief that cutting was. Only 1561 days left until I can go to a university far away from my mother.

* * *

Then I became 17. I no longer counted the days till school was over and I went to college, far away from my past and my mother. I had realized that there was no escaping. Along with cutting I had found another thing in life that made me feel something: One Direction. The five dorks somehow managed to put a smile on my face. They were the only ones in a long time who had been able to do that. My plan was ready: I would thank them and then escape by cutting a little too deep.

* * *

A gentle touch of my hand brings me back to the present and I'm still not quite sure if it is a dream or if the creature with the pair of emerald sparkling eyes are looking at me. 

"Are you sure you are up for this?" Harry asks and I nod with clenched teeth. 

But I'm terrified. Harry has been keeping me alive for the past months, how can I live without him in a rehab facility with nothing to distract me from my thoughts? Together we have chosen a rehab facility named Greenwood where the patients all are suffering from some form of self-destructive habits. The first month is contact-free, meaning no visits, no phone calls, no Harry. 

"... What will you do?" I ask after regaining some trust in my voice. Luckily, our bedroom is dimly lit and my tears are quick to dry.

"See some family and old friends. And then... maybe go back to school, I never got a proper education. And you're sure about this? I think it will be good for you."

I nod and with my cold and chapped lips I place a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It is all gonna work out perfectly. I just need some therapy I guess... to really talk about what went wrong in my life. It's exactly what I need. I'll be out quickly, I promise," I say and smile at him. 

It is the kind of smile that convinces everyone around you into thinking that everything is going to be fine. I have worn it for years. When Harry just nods at my lies and leaves the room, I can't help but feel disappointed. My smile has fooled doctors, social workers, teachers – everyone, and apparently Harry too. I just never thought Harry would be one of them. 

Then I close the suitcase with shaking hands, wipe the tears of my face with my sleeve, bite my lip, my hand lingering above the door knob for too many seconds - ready to act like a non-damaged, mentally stable person that can be "fixed" in front of Harry. After all, this might be our last night together in a while. Or maybe forever... what makes you think he'll still love you when you get out? If you ever get out... It's clear; I'm losing the eternal fight with my mind and this realization makes me break down in tears and leaves me crying silently on the floor. I can try to change and let go of the past and keep fighting an inner battle, but I'm not sure I have the will or strength to keep fighting anymore. 

//A/N: This story is coming to an end, remember to comment and/or vote :)