Change My Mind- Zayn and Harry Fan Fiction

Small Bump

Harry's POV:

*Before reading please put on the song: Small Bump by Ed Sheeran. Listen to it while reading.*

You couldn't believe what you just heard from the nurse. Your girlfriend is in coma and the baby has low chances of surviving. You want to press re-wind and change that moment when you pushed her off the stairs. You hate yourself. The feelings of angriness and sadness over came your body, making your eyes release tears. You covered your eyes with your hands reminding yourself all the times you spent with Seyma. You imagined her having your baby. The baby looks just like her. The baby would remind you of her everyday. Now you have small chances of seeing the baby. Your feet automatically started to walk towards the exit,  rapidly moving through the hospital floor. You walked towards a nearby bar opposite the road. You walked inside and noticed a familiar figure sitting by the bar. Zayn. Great. It couldn't get any better. You had to try to hide your tears away from him but, the image of Seyma  laying there in the hospital on the bed hurts you so bad. Zayn turned around as soon as you started to turn around and walk out. 

"Harry, wait!" Zayn shouted to you. What did he want? You didn't want him to see you in this type of state. You didn't turn around; you just wiped away the tears from your eyes. You had to keep strong. You suddenly noticed Zayn beside you trying to stop you from walking out. 

"What's wrong mate?" Zayn asked you trying to sound apologetic. 

"Nothing it's just... Seym... Seyma." The words didn't want to leave your mouth. 

"What's wrong with Seyma? Where is she?" Zayn started to get impatient as soon as you didn't want to answer.

"Hospital." This is the only word that could escape your lips. You started to cry again and Zayn looked at you confused. He hugged you, telling you that everything will be alright with her. 

"Zayn go to her, I can't." You really wanted Zayn to support you however, it will be hard for him since you basically took away his girlfriend. Zayn let go off you, looked at you and made his way out of the bar. You started to slowly walk upto the bar and you ordered yourself a shot. You sat down on the stool, resting your elbows on the counter of the bar. You drank the shot shortly after you received it. You ordered another one. You drank it. You ordered another. You drank it. You kept on ordering shots until you felt sick and you had to run to the men's toilet. You knelt in front of the toilet. You felt dizzy and sick right at this moment. Vomit started to rise up your throat and exiting through your mouth and into the toilet. You were sick. You felt the same emotions and taste 5 more times until nothing else came out. You flushed the toilet and sat down on the floor in the cubicle. You pulled your knees towards your chest and rested your forehead on your knees. You started to cry again. You couldn't take the pressure of this whole situation. It's all too much.

*Listen to Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran while reading*

You stayed there on the cold floor for about 10 minutes crying your eyes out. You finally got up and walked up to the mirror in front of you. You looked at your reflection- your eyes were red, your hair a mess, your face looks rough due to the amount of alcohol you had. Why were you turning into this monster that you always said you never will? You splashed your face with cold water to refresh yourself. You balanced yourself on the edges of the sink as you looked up at yourself again. The image in front of you disgusted you. You extended your fist towards the mirror and punched as hardest as you could. Glass started to fall down to the floor with a big shatter. Your fist was bleeding from the connection with the glass. Your life seems pointless. You grabbed the razor right beside the sink, obviously left by a man who was shaving his beard. You rinsed it with water and stared at it for a while. You rolled up your right sleeve. You looked at your wrist. The veins are sticking out only making you want to do this more now. You took a deep breath. You moved the razor towards your right wrist; slightly moving it across your skin that you can just barely feel the blade. You took another look at yourself while taking a strong, deep breathe. You moved the razor higher up your wrist. You placed it powerfully on your pale skin. You pressed down on the razor making the blade dig into you. You moved the razor down your wrist and arm. The blade made a hurtful connection with your skin, leaving marks on your skin. Blood started to flow out of your cuts, flowing down to the floor. You dropped the razor and looked at yourself in the left over part of the mirror. What are you doing with your life? Your sight slowly began to fade making you feel dizzy and unstable. Your knees started to weaken and hit the hard ground. Your body collapsed to the floor. Your body layed there on the floor, your wrist and arm covered in blood and the blade of the razor turned red from your cuts. Your eyes started to close now. Your body felt helpless as if it couldn't make one more move.

"Seyma." These were the last words you have said today. Tonight. Forever...