Delilah | H.S

018

d e l i l a h

"I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing." ―Neil Gaiman

Setting a small kiss on my palm, he opened his car door before making his way over to my side. He- soothingly- clutched my hand in his.

The area, to me, was foreign. I had not been in this part of town and the reason for us being here were unknown to everyone except for Harry.

We made our way down the sidewalk, the sound of the footsteps against the pavement was the only noise that came from us. Our voices, silent. Our minds, loud as hell.

I was unable to look up before a smell engulfed my senses. The hospital was too clean, making it almost sickly. I glanced up at Harry but he refused to make eye contact with me.

His bright emerald irises were no longer sparkling. They appeared to be grey and everything that I was not used to. He appeared to be anything but the boy I first met at the benches. Anything but the boy who stole my heart just by calling me "love". The boy standing in front of me right now was not Harry. He is not my Harold and I hate it more than anything because I need him here more than I ever thought imaginable.

We made our way over to the receptionist's desk. The woman was fair. Her grey hair sat on the top of her head in a tight bun. She smiled falsely before opening her mouth to speak, "What can I help you with?"

"I-Wo-Can-We need to see Rick Miller." His words left from between his lips before his mind had had the chance to register what he had said. He looked stressed. He held on to my hand firmly almost to the point where it hurt.

She smiled sadly whilst glancing in my direction, "Room 394." She pointed to the left which lead to a narrow hallway.

Harry responded with a simple nod before he pulled me to the room where the older lady had directed us in.

Silence, once again, engulfed us before Harry pulled my hand up to his lips. His rose coloured lips met my pale hand making my eyes widen. His face redden to the point where it almost matched his lips.

Without knocking, he opened the door. The door creaked loudly but my father laid motionless. There were multiple wires that ran to and from his body. He looked so much more paler than he had these past couple of months. I frowned as I walked in the direction of where he was.

Sitting in the abandoned chair beside the hospital bed, I took his frail hand into mine.

"Dad..." He hummed in response, attempting to flutter open his eyes at the sound of my soft voice- failing miserably. I placed my hand on to his cheek, the softest being able to be felt on my palm as I continued caressed the pale skin. "Please wake up, I need you here."

My eyes felt anything but dry as I tried to blink rapidly, in hopes to get rid of any bit of moisture. I so desperately wanted him to open his eyes, so he could see the state that I was in and know that he could not leave now, not ever.

He attempted again to open his eyelids in hopes to see the person that held the voice that continued to call out for him but ended up falling short once again.