the criminals // h.s. short story ((editing))

epilogue

A week had passed; it was raining outside, and I just stared blankly at the window, holding my cup of green tea in one hand, and the newspaper in the other; I looked down at the newspaper.

"No more direction." the headline of the 2 days old newspaper read, right below was a picture of three guys with handcuffs, their faces familiar to me. It was the fourth time I read this article, but I still couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe what this article said; 3/5 of One Direction, 3/5 of the most disgusting, arrogant people in the world were currently in jail. 

And this made me extremely happy, yes, but scared at the same time. My happiness just gave me positive thoughts about how those bastards get to pay for everything they did, not only to me, but to everyone else. But the police only found three, which means two of them are free. 

Sometimes I would wake up at night, screaming and crying due to the flashbacks I got. The horrible memories came back, haunting me, and not letting me go of it; not letting me believe everything's over. I let out a shaky breath, placing the newspaper next to me and picking up the remote control, maybe some television will clear up my mind for a little while. 

But it didn't. Because when I turned on the TV, the first thing I heard was the news.

"Now," the reporter said, "Criminal Harry Styles was found dead on an abandoned apartment in Brighton." my heart stopped for a millisecond, and I did what I first thought of: I turned the TV of. My breath picked up, and so did my heart; the watery sensation took over my eyes, the tears threaten to spill out of them. I shook my head no about ten times before calming myself down. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be real at all. 

Once I was settled down again, I gained strength and turned the television on again.

"Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard right. Harry Styles, one of the most feared criminals in London was found dead on an apartment in the outskirts of Brighton; forensic doctors confirm the cause of his death was a suicide commitment right after Brian Adam's daughter, Avery Adams was found on a basement in London. The police also found a note lying next to Harry Styles' lifeless body; the police thinks this letter is directed to the one and only Avery Adams, as her name appears numerous times, but we still can't confirm that. We still have no news about criminal Zayn Malik when he disappeared this last Tuesday. Thank you for your time, and we'll see you tomorrow at the same hour, same channel."

I turned off the TV, tears rolling down my eyes. I couldn't tell if they were from pure shock or hatred. Harry should have gone to prison, he should have payed for all the pain he had made me suffer, for all the tears he had made me cry... for how useless he had made me feel. That bastard shouldn't be 6 meters underground, no, he should be in jail, like the others. 

"Avery? Honey are you okay?" I heard my mom call from behind me; my hands gripped my cup tightly, a sob escaping my chapped lips.

"He's gone, mom," I said, talking about Harry. "He killed himself, he's dead."

"I know darling, I saw it," she softly whispered, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around me, "I'm sure he has a very special place in hell now." she kissed my forehead when I started to cry harder. "Shhh, it's okay, honey... it's all done... it's all over."

And she was right. Everything ended... the pain, the tears, the scary nights... everything.

It was all over.

the end.