Oblivion [H.S.]

O n e

Waiting.

Breathe.

Clock ticking.

Breathe.

Heart beating fast.

Breathe.

Thinking.

Breathe.

Dying inside.

Breathe, Harry. Breathe.

The hardest part was waiting. Being left with only their imagination and thoughts, which often lead to disaster. The doctors wouldn't tell them anything. Not even a little hint of how things were going. They couldn't, they weren't allowed. Harry was furious and wanted to scream at the doctors for doing something so vicious. In Harry's mind they were only depraved monsters. What he didn't realize was that the doctors did their best to take care of her, but Harry was too captured in his own little bubble of evil thoughts that ate him alive. His family tried to tell him, but he refused to listen. He practically shut everyone and everything out, letting the world evolve around him. And that's how he grieved. It was painful, but it was the only way for him.

Losing people was new to Harry. He had always had his family close to him, never leaving them, nor did they leave him. Never had he moved away from the city he grew up in. He wanted to stay there, near his loved ones. His family hadn't excpected anything else from him. From birth Harry had always been a family-boy. Always smiling and laughing when around them. Never having a single bad day with his family. Whenever something bad happened in the Styles family, Harry was the one who cheered them up and made them laugh again with his charming quirks, his charisma beaming from across the room and just filling the entire era with a special atmosphere that was hard to explain. All in all, Harry was a blissfull boy.

Harry was also extremely sensitive. If someone said anything bad about him or yelled at him, he would be quiet for hours and lock himself inside his own mind, not listening to others. He didn't get mad, just sad. And if someone yelled at him he would act like it was nothing and that he was okay, but then when he sat up on his room he would stay there and not come back down until his mother called for him to come. He had always been so ashamed because of his sensitivity, although his father told him it was nothing to be ashamed of, and that it was a gift he had gotten from God the day he was born, that it was special. Harry smiled and tried to think of that every time something happened, cause that little phrase was the only thing he could hold on to in those moments of vulnerability.

Harry was having flashbacks from the horrible accident. He flinched at the thought of it. It was an awful car crash. And of course Sophia was the one who had to suffer for it. Harry got away with only a sprained arm and some bruises and scratches here and there. The doctors said he was incredibly lucky. Of course, Harry didn't care that he wasn't hurt, or even the fact that he was breathing at this very moment. All he cared about was his dear Sophia. All he could think of was that he should've been the one lying in there, and Sophia should've been out where he sat, breathing, feeling, seeing. Living.

Hours and hours went, and eventually Harry's family went home, tired and outworn from it all. With red eyes and hopeful minds they left, giving Harry hugs and kisses. Only Sophia's parents and Harry were there. It was getting late, and the three of them were tired and exhausted, but leaving Sophia was never an option. They stayed, and they would keep staying, even if it was at the end of the world when everything around them burned into lava and the cities were being corrupted, they woud stay. At least Harry knew he would.

Sophia's mother asked her husband if she could get them some coffee. They were sitting a few seats away from Harry, considering he wanted to be alone. That's what he had told them when they tried talking to him and comforting him. He knew it was wrong pushing people away, but he just couldn't hear the desperation and lack of hope in their voices, even though they told him everything was going to be okay and that he should be positive.

Grace, Sophia's mother, came over to where Harry was sitting and sat down next to him. He was sitting with his legs spread and his back leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers intertwined supporting his chin. He had been sitting like that the entire time, tapping his foot up and down quickly, being awfully fidgety.

"Harry, I know you want to be left alone," Grace said carefully with her caring and concerned voice. "But just know that we are all in the same situation, and we're here if you want to talk."

Harry took in the words, inhaling heavily and exhaling, nodding without saying a word. He hadn't spoken in a long time, which was what he wanted. Quietness with himself, and only him. Inside, he tortured himself, thinking over and over again that it was his fault, everything. The fact that Sophia maybe wouldn't survive, the look on Sophia's parents when they heard the news, all the broken hearts and inside screams, Harry was responsible for it all. He made sure to remind himself that every passing second that went.

~

"Harry?"

A sweet voice spoke in front of Harry. Harry had hid his face in his hands for a while, so he looked up, to see Lana, his little sister, standing in front of him with insecure eyes, fiddling with her thumbs.

"Lana, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" Harry asked softly, his voice hoarse and sore.

She looked down at the floor. "Yeah, but mommy told me you were sad and I don't want you to be sad."

Harry's eyes watered up as he looked at his little sister. Lana had always been there for Harry. They were best friends, and just because Lana was little, it didn't mean that she couldn't help because she didn't understand. Sometimes it was better to talk to someone that didn't understand. Someone that were forgiving and not judging. That was exactly what Lana did.

Harry sniffed and motioned for Lana to come over to him. "Come here."

She slowly came closer to him, knowing how vulnerable he was at the moment. Harry grabbed her little waist and pulled her into a tight hug. Lana's hugs were the best. So warm and powerful. It could make Harry's worries go away, and fill him with hope. He cried silently into her hair and wrapped her tighter into him.

"Sophie will be okay, I know it," she said carefully yet determined, which made Harry happy, not only by that, but by hearing the nickname that Lana had given Sophia. It wasn't really a nickname, she had just always called her that since they met, even though Harry corrected her a thousand times cause he knew how much Sophia hated to be called Sophie. It was a small mistake, yet it could mean so much. Small mistakes tends to hurt equally as much as big ones. Even more so. With that said, Sophia enjoyed Lana calling her Sophia for some reason. She found it "adorable", yet, whenever Harry did it, she despised him for the rest of the day.

Small girl perks.

Harry lifted Lana up from the floor and sat her down on his lap, his arm wrapped tightly around her. She buried her head into his warm, protecting chest. Harry lulled her to sleep in his arms, and he found it comforting to have Lana by his side, yet with the others he didn't want their presense. Maybe it was because Lana didn't push Harry to talk to her about how he felt cause "it helped", and maybe it was because Lana, unlike the others, had hope in her voice and actually meant her words. His family and Sophia's family only had sadness and lack of faith in theirs. They only said it to make him feel better, but that wasn't what Harry wanted. He wanted something real.

And Lana's words were real to him.