To Save A Broken Heart (Louis Tomlinson Fanfiction)

They Say Time Would Heal The Heart

Louis' P.O.V

"Laila's dead, Louis. She's never coming back." Harry murmured and held out the necklace.

She's never coming back.

My sister. My only family... dead?!

...No... there must be some mistake. Laila will pop up from under my bed any second and shout "boo!" and scare the shit out of all of us. But she'll be here. Alive. Safe. With me.

"A-are you sure?" I mouthed wordlessly. I can't believe it. Laila was with me just five minutes ago, if that. So there, I have proof!

"We had to identify you both," Niall sobbed and came to my other side when Harry didn't answer. "I know it's a horrible time, but I'm so happy you're alive!" He cried and put his arms carefully around my shoulders. I didn't respond. "L-L-Louis?" He sniffed when I didn't return the hug.

"How could you all say Laila is dead? How could you be so mean?" I shouted at them and Niall jumped around from me like I had given him an electric shot. They all gave a tired look at each other and then at me.

"Louis, you know us better than that-" Liam begant to say, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"No, don't start with the good-guy talk!" I retorted before guilt nettled into me.

"God damn it Louis!" Harry shouted, his eyes looking feverish. "Do you think we'd lie about something like this? We all loved Laila! Stop trying to wish her to come back because she's not!" He shouted and I instantly froze. Zayn grabbed Harry's arms when he opened his mouth to say more and dragged him out of the room.

"Louis, w-"

"I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone." I snapped and closed my eyes. I was sick of the boys. Sick of reality. Sick of the lies.

So I dreamed of Laila.

....

Six weeks later...

They say that time would heal the heart, don't they? That the wounds would slowly be knitted together, and although you'd be scarred, you can get by. That's what it means, isn't it?

What a loud of crap. Time only weakens the soul. It makes the torture last longer and teases you at the fact that you can never, ever have the one you want.

I think my heart was past healing anyway. I had already lost my parents, then my grandparents, and now my sister. I am alone in this world. Each of these deaths tore at my heart, and I think the last left one left a gash and tore it out. It left an aching hole which time would poke and torture.

I don't know how long I could go on like this. The last time I saw Harry was at the funeral. That was the second worst day of my life. People were saying "I'm very sorry for your loss" and "I understand what you're going through" but how the fuck did they know? Had they lost someone who had meant the world to them? No? Well they can shut up then.

And they expected me to break down and cry. I didn't do it in front of them. I was already a broken man when I had to stand up and read out a little paragraph about Lail-her. And then the words couldn't come out and they started strangling me so I sat back down. I was a lifeless corpse.

I've still got the note, the letter I had written for her. I always have it with me. Nobody else has ever read it, and they won't. The letter is between me and my sister. Nobody else.

I was put on suicide watch for an entire month, and even now I'm being closely watched. My newspapers (not that I read them) were censored.

But I still had my mobile phone so the boys could contact me; so I had Twitter. And there was too much information there. Notification after notification, tweet after tweet, pain after pain.