Apocolypse

12 Days Before {Emma}

It's starting to get easier.. I guess. Harry is a major help in this whole 'coping process'. I love that he's here for me, when my mom was first diagnosed, she wanted us to go to counseling. Telling a stranger my personal thoughts and problems, not my thing. Im glad Harry understands that.

I know Harry has his own issues he's trying to work through. I feel like he's using my pain to help distract him from his own family issues. His dad... It's so horrible. He says he doesn't want to talk about it. I hear the screaming, the late night cries... I am only next door. I don't push Harry though.

People would never guess, though, that behind the boys rigid appearance, cocky attitude, and crude humor; that there's a small child begging for help. He would never show it. He just hides his pain. Using physical pain for his excuse. I once called him out in the middle of an argument when I was in the hospital..

'HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?' He begged at the end of the bed. Tears going down his face. I solemnly looked out the window, I couldn't make eye contact. It hurt too much. 'EMMA WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU? GOD YOURE SO SELFISH!' He screamed at me. The anger built and built.

In all honesty, I preferred someone screaming at me over attempting this, rather than a lecture from the past 20 people that ha visited me. I lost it. 'COMING FROM YOU. YORE SUCH A HYPOCRITE HARRY! YOU DONT THINK THAT IT HURTS ME THAT YOU DO THAT!!' I screamed. His knees had went weak, and he hit the ground.

We were only fifteen then. Ages ago this was, but the memory was fresh. A pinch of guilt builds in my chest.

I walk to the kitchen, but stop in the living room where Harry has been sleeping all day. I glance at his hands, sprawled out on my couch, the blanket kicked to the floor. He looks so peaceful. I drown in every perfect aspect of him.

I step over and sit cross-legged on the ground next the couch. I observe his wrists. They're usually cover with a long sleeves shirt, but when he was asleep he must've pulled it off. I see the scares. There are no fresh ones. The ones from before, are only noticeable by the pink line that litters his perfect skin. Harry... My Harry, resulting to hurt himself to let out the emotional pain. If his father knew what he was doing, I'm sure he would stop. Then again, he is junkie. Why would Harry be any reason to him. Maybe to the rest of the world this boy was incapable of emotion, but to me... I know him. I've seen him in his weakest times.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I'm in love with you." I whisper my favorite quote to the man of my dreams. His eyes flutter, and I pray he didn't hear me.

Sorry this is so cheesy you guys! It'll get better, promise! I have to have a cheesy background. It's necessary! If I didn't you all would be really confused later on :) I love you all! Stay warm and cozy !!