Spark // Harry Styles

Prologue

    I always wondered what it was like walking on a tight rope. What it was like swinging back and forth between life and death. Such a thin line… so easily breakable.

    Shock. That’s what came to me as I regained my senses. It wasn’t the impact itself that brought the ache but what followed: consciousness. Suddenly, the reality became too much for me to handle. My knees weakened and I fell to the hard floor hopeless. That’s when I felt a foreign pair of eyes scanning me.

   The perplex-eyed boy waved at me hoping I’d make a move in return but my muscles were stuck, frozen, so he didn’t get any response. Scared, he tried to lift me up but I made no attempt to follow his lead.

    ‘Are you okay?’ he tried and I blinked, still not saying anything. I was still speechless.

    His second attempt was to place a hand on my shoulder, in a comforting way, but just by his touch I flinched, so he removed it instantly. He gave me a sad look and sat next to me, scanning my face, speaking words that were too big for my dead brain to decode.

    When he glanced at the floor, he noticed I was sat on broken glass. He shuddered as his eyes hopelessly moved to my face. This time I forced my body to respond. I nodded and my eyes travelled along the depth. Despite my confusing attempt, he seemed to understand because he stood up and took a couple of steps forward, realizing then what I meant.

    I held some glass fragments in my bare hands. The touch was somehow reassuring. Small cuts and scratches started forming on the surface of my skin but that pain was bearable. I could tolerate it but I couldn’t tolerate this, the feeling burning inside of me. That was too much to handle.

    I knew I hadn’t made the correct decision, from the very beginning. The right one would have been not to embark on this tricky journey. I could have avoided this. In fact, in the beginning the cards were on my side but I gave in. I was the one who started this. I made the wrong choice and drove in the wrong path. And because of that, we were both doomed. Doomed to a life of tragic, passionate, crazy and unbalanced love. I started this rollercoaster ride. 

    It had its good moments, moments of joy, moments of pleasure. But that was expected, because a rollercoaster always goes up. Yet, it had to come down eventually and every time it did, it would hit the ground so hard that it would break another part of me. And of him. This rollercoaster held the path to our destruction.

    An ambulance arrived and a nurse rushed in my direction. She helped me get into the vehicle and kept asking me questions I couldn’t answer. She told me everything was going to be okay and my brain, until now sound asleep, awoke just to command me to slap the woman in the face and watch her cry for help. Things would never be okay again. How could they? I restrained the urge and curled up in a ball, resting my face on my knees, to avoid regretting my possible loss of temper.

    She told me to breathe in and breathe out and I just wished my heart would stop beating. What’s the point of living in a world that no longer holds meaning? What’s the point of living in the skin of a girl I don’t recognize?

    There were so many questions like that flooding my mind that I grew tired of thinking about them. They were starting to drive me mad, just like the nurses that were talking to a doctor about something I wasn’t ready to hear.

    I allowed a weak sigh to leave my mouth and without being able to stop the immediate action that followed I started whimpering. I released all the emotions that had been kept inside over the past couple of hours, although it felt like months. Groans and moans also left my lips but were strangled inside the vehicle until the doors were finally opened. Even though I am not sure when that moment happened exactly, since I feel asleep on my own puddle of tears.