Dear Diary [h.s. au]

Chapter Eleven.

(A/N: Don't forget to read the note at the end. Enjoy ! :) .xx)

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DREA’S POV

Dear Diary,

He can’t just forget about it and move on can he ? He had to force me and tell him what I was most ashamed of.

I never meant for it to happen, I blame myself every night for what I had done.

He stopped speaking to me a week or two after I told him, I guess the thought finally sank in.

Good that is good.

It means he’s going to stay away from me and be safe.

No one’s ever safe around me. That is why I am always pushing my mum away. I know I’m hurting her, but I’m doing this for her good sake.

My dad didn’t really care about me so he wasn’t on my “keep safe” list.

But now, I am afraid. I am afraid Harry will tell his mum and she’ll put me behind bars or maybe in a mental institution.

I didn’t get arrested back then cause I was a minor. All I had to do was pay that girls’ parents an indemnity. Oh and Kim’s parents as well as they lost their daughter on the same night in the same accident.

I keep saying it was an accident but what I really think is that it was a way God found to say I wasn’t worth of having the life I had back then.

And what a lesson he had given me.

*

It’s been three weeks and I am still living with Anne and Harry. My mum called asking them if I could stay longer as she was stuck in London with my dad to figure out some marriage problems.

You know what that means right ? Yeah, divorce.

I knew their relationship was far from good, but actually divorcing ? No, no way. I wouldn’t allow it.

I took the advantage to ask my mum if I could go look for a car and maybe buy one as I was behaving but I was still doing it nevertheless.

I just didn’t tell her that part.

 She allowed it on the condition of bringing Harry along with me.

We both agreed even though we were not looking forward to it that much.

It was a little pass midnight already and tomorrow would be the day I’d finally be free from Harry’s rides to college and basically everywhere I wanted to go.

They were awkward. He didn’t utter a word, the music played a little bit too loud and as much as I should feel relieved that he is in fact pushing me away, I feel emptier and sadder than what I’ve felt before.

It’s like he had filled this part of me and now it was just gone.

I kinda miss talking to him, you know. Even though our convos were based in arguments or about subjects in college, I missed him.

And he slightly changed his style. Now he wears his hair pushed back in a quiff, making his curls disappear a bit, he wears tighter jeans and boots. Which only makes him look older and dare I say hotter.