Him. [H. S.]

three.

and one night.. he wakes, strange look, on his face, pauses and says, you're my, best friend and you knew, what it was he is, in love..

******

He comes closer and closer, ignoring the car coming in speed, and I'm not able to run, or to stop, I can't scream. I'm numb. He comes closer, his fingers are about to touch my skin but they dissappear.

I close my eyes, to feel his touch but he's not here, he's vanished. Then I open my eyes. Only to find him soaked in blood, lying unconscious in the middle of the road. And now I feel the power which had been stopping me from saving him is also disappeared.

I run, pushing the crowd to get through his body. He ain't alive anymore, he doesn't smile at me, his eyes don't flutter at my name, he doesn't feel me standing beside him. Its just, him. Only him, not me.

I try to call him. But I'm not able to do so, the same I failed to save him. I try to touch him, caress his blood soaked cheeks, but I can't. i couldn't save him. i could do nothing. i'm worthy nothing. i've let go of one of the most special gifts given to me. it hurts. i want to call his name. i want to feel him. i want swipe this blood off his face, but i can't.

****
My mom sits beside me, noticing the sweat I have and the rushed adrenaline. I know, I woke them up again, my screams and shouts. These nightmares are just a habbit to me now. I'm quite used to it now. They don't haunt me anymore. But they just remind me of the past, every night and that is intolerable.

"I'm okay." I assure them but indeed my mum ends up assuming that I had 'em because its my first night in a different room. I'm not a 5 year child, who's gonna sleep with her teddies. Grow up mother.

The next morning I decide to wear my blue rugged jeans with a black T-shirt, I tie my hair into a messy bun and head out, taking my toast and keys and hugging my parents. They still seem worried because of last night, of course. And I can't blame them either.

As soon as I start the car, my phone beeps, a text from hayley. I ignore it. I'll talk to her in the campus. I turn the volume on to my one of the favourite songs, centuries by fall out boy. I sing along, every word, its the only thing which gives me some joy and happiness, the rest of my life is bullshit.

I park the my car at the same spot before heading going to my locker and grabbing the books. I'm still worried about my assignment with that harry guy, he's like, a lot strange. And different. His eyes are mysterious, maybe. I mean, they're sometimes a lot darker, sometime greenish.

"Hey?" I turn around to see harry again, talk about the devil.

"Hey." I smile.

"Did you think about that assignment?" He asks straight.

"Nope. We'll do it today, anyway. And--"

"Yeah, today, at your place." He's so rude. Doesn't seem like a person who can still at least endure it. He cut me off.

I'm late in the class. Great. And I have to sit beside him, fucking perfect. Professor haven't arrived yet and for that I'm happy. Where's hayley? I turn my face around to look for her but she is nowhere to be found. I haven't seen her text.

From - hayley

Sorry love, not well, won't be able to show up. Enjoy anyway and pray for me. All the love.

Don't tell I've gotta spend this day alone. Great, hell, fucking great.

Professor finally enters, settles on his seat as he puts his book on the table, "today, as you all would be probably busy making the assignments, we would be talking about simple basic criticism." He smiles, "what do you mean by criticism, self hatred and criticism?" He continues, "miss Ruth?"

I confidently stand before speaking, everyone's eyes on me, "criticism, a person criticises himself when he hates his own self. When he knows that there's no other way you can redo the mistakes. Hatred and criticism both mostly occur equally. Self hatred and criticism leads to self harming. People are hurt. They blame themselves, criticise themselves and ends up being in depression. Which is farther more hurtful. It--"

"I don't think so Miss Ruth?" Harry puts his hand up.

"If you want to add something to it Mr. Styles." Professor says.

"Thank you professor. So hatred and criticism. If one criticises his own self, then that's because he has stopped loving anyone, he had given up on everything. He hates himself because he knows he has failed to do a particular stuff. A relation between hatred and criticism is not because a person who criticises himself, hates himself too. But because if a person hates himself then he ain't selfish, self esteemed, because he sometimes knows how to deal with situations, he blames himself for doing something he never did and in such a situation, he needs a person who would understand him entirely and would be with him through his whole life. A person who hates himself is equally insecure--"

"So you think if a person is in depression, not because he's hurt, or he's being betrayed or he faced a particular but because he hates himself. Is th--" fuck you styles.

"Not actually but if a person blames himself for some silly reasons and drowns in it and that's what you call as depression--"

"No. I don't call it depression. Depression causes you to hate yourself. Hatred doesn't cause depression--" I'm boiling now.

"Well then you're still a teen who's tangled in relationship matters still--"

"Well, you can't judge my life just because I have a different opinion on criticism and hatred and perhaps that's correct point of view--" this is not happening here.

"You're being blinded Miss. Ruth. You think just because there are certain problems in our lives and we couldn't face so we're depressed or we hate ourselves--"

"No. No. No one hates himself until he faces something really bad, like losing his loved ones--" I already hate you harry.

"and no one hates himself because he faced something which was meant to happen, just destiny. depression is a secondary stage. you blame yourself, you hate yourself and--"

"no that's not the case. criticism, criticising yourself leads to self harming, destroying yourself. but depression is what you feel at first and that's because you've been through something intolerable--" why do you have to be an asshole harry.

"if someone has been through something like that then its because of self hatred, he hates himself, and ends up being in depression--"

"Okay okay. You both may sit down. We will discuss about this tomorrow. And be ready with your plans and views about the assignments, I would like to hear them all." He says and leaves the class.

I grab my bag and walk outside. How dare him talk shit against me. I know I'm right. I 've been through shit, and here he is, teaching me all this again. He is nothing but a fucking piece of bullshit.

"Hey, Roselyn." Harry comes in front of me, like wasn't it pretty fast?

"Rose. Its Rose please." I roll my eyes.

"So are we going to meet then?" He asks, not caring about me being so much angry from him.

"Yeah whatever." I remark.

"And I'm sorry for today's class, we just have different opinions you know." He turns away to walk but I call him.

"And how the hell did you know about my personal life?" I ask angrily.

"Just kinda guessed it and Now I'm sure." He smirks before finally walking away.

So, how's the debate? Typical I know.
Anyways, vote and comment it means alot to me.

i love you :* :*