Only You by Matthew Perryman Jones
Written in Harry's POV
I sat in the living room looking through old photos of me and her. Her laugh and smile are permanently captured by the 5 by 7 card in my hand.
"Smile" I said with the camera in front of my face. She covered her face with the book. "Come on, let me take a picture of you" I set the camera down on the bed and sit next to her. "Let me take one picture" I say with a smile on my face. "You've been taking pictures all week" she sets her book down and looks at me. "I want to capture everything you do"
I set another picture to the side. She never liked getting her picture taken, but she loved taking pictures. She took her camera every where she went. She took pictures of the sky, of a flower in the middle of the sidewalk and of me. Every waking hour there would be a new picture taped somewhere in the house.
"I'll be back in an hour" she said while shutting the door behind her. I decided to take the time I have by my self and finish the scrapbook I would give her on September 19th. I was gluing a picture of her reading her favorite book sitting on the floor in her room with my t-shirt on and a cup of tea I made her on the sheet of paper in my lap when my phone rang. The words on the other line slurred together as if the person on the other side was drunk.
At this point a tear was starting to form in the corner of my eye. I blinked it away before it could fall. There was a knock on the door but I remained still. I hear a person calling me. I looked at the door, and the tears started falling, again. You would think, it's been a year since she passes, I'd be over it by now. You would think the pain would slowly fade, time heals everything, right? In my case it made it worse. The more time that passes, the longer the day seems, the more it hurts.
I ran trough the hospital doors and past nurses trying to stop me from running. I ran to room 216. I didn't bother knocking, I saw her she looked as fragile as a dying flower. She saw me and somehow a smile formed on her face. She had scratches everywhere and her head was wrapped in a white gauze. The words I tried saying chocked back down and nothing came out. "It will be alright" she said so faintly I could barley hear her from where I was standing. I walked to her bed side and grabbed her hand.
By now I couldn't even control how loud I was. "Open up." I completely forgot someone was at the door. "Please," I managed to get out "go away" My hand wiped my wet face but it made no difference.
"It will be okay" she said her eyes meeting mine. I shook my head and kissed her hand. "You'll see me again" she paused to swallow "I love you." "I love you, too, but you'll make it through this" I said trying not to break down more than I already did. Her hand reached for my face and wiped away some of my tears. I held her hand to my face, the way you see in movies but this, this is real. The machine beeped and I lost control. I broke down. Nurses stormed in and removed me from the room.
I couldn't stand to look at the pictures anymore, at this point who ever was at my door left. I walked to her room, everything was still the way she had it. Her favorite book was closed, sitting on the edge of her bed. I sat on her bed and grabbed it, opened it to where it was and saw her book mark. A picture from about two months before her passing, we were in America to see the fireworks on the 4th, red and blue shadowed behind us, both of us smiling at the camera she held in front of us. I took the book to my room and opened a drawer to grab a velvet box. i open it and pulled the ring out and looked at the engraving 'Forever and always, September 19'.
