Larry isn't real

I bolt up awake,sweat running down my face, dripping off my hair. It was another nightmare. Ive been having them more now that Lous not here with me.It's a good thing the boys aren't here. Except louis. The mocking voice inside my head says. Go away! I sighed a put my head back down on my pillow. I need to stop thinking about him. His sparkling blue eyes, his laughter, his hair, his smile. Stop harry! I need to stop thinking about him.

But it's so hard, they don't know what it's like to love someone and not be able to keep your hands of them. They never will be able to love, there to self centred. They only care about money, they don't think of the feelings of the two people. I close my eyes and try to get some sleep.

It's impossible, I've been laying for what fells like an hour. I sigh and sit up. I need to do something, any thing so I'm not left to my own thoughts. I get up and stubble to my kitchen. I pass the clock and it reads 4:00 am. Great just what i need, to be up this hour of the night, well day. I get a drink of water and sit down at the table.

I get my computer from my room and go onto twitter. Might as well check my social media. I open twitter and scroll though my feeds. And find some tweets from the boys but one catches my eye, it was louis twitter.

"how's this, larry is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. I'm happy why can't you accept that."

My heart is broken into a billion peaces on the floor. How could he say that? Tears were threatening to fall, But I don't let them. Because, because...Larry Stylinson isn't real. Larry Stylinson was real was... I glop down the lump forming in my throat. I close the computer quickly so I don't have to see the tweet. I get up taking my computer with me.

I sit it down on the table, taking in deep breaths to steady my raged breathing. I clim onto my bed and rest my head onto the backboard. I look over at my bedside table and look at my clock. 5:00 am. Next to it is a picture of me and louis. Louis, god fucking louis! I grape the picture of us and though it on the floor with all my anger and sadness. The frame breaks and the glass shatters in to broken peaces on the floor. The picture is still intact. I wish my heart was.

I pick up the picture and look at it, it's a picture of me a and louis, smiling up at the camera. His arm around my shoulder and my arm around his waist. I look at it, the tears that i tried to fight to keep down were now running down my checks. I look down at the picture once more, and a single tear lands on the photograph. I rip it in half, then into quoters and keep ripping it until it was in shreds on the floor.

That looks like my heart. I look at the mess I have caused. Glass peaces, photo peaces and frame peaces lay around me. I step carefully around it all and go into the kitchen. I grab the dash pan and broom and walk back into my bedroom. I walk over to the mess and brush it up into the pan.

Once I have all the pieces that I can see in the tray, I walk to the bin outside and put it all in the bin. I walk back inside the house and flop down on the lounge, I turn the tv on and surf though all the channels.

After 10 minutes of trying to find something good to watch and finding nothing at all. I turn it onto a random channel and try to pay attention but can't. It's a rerun of family guy that I've seen 10 times.

I take a deep breath and sleep finally takes over me.