Living in London

Harryville

--- Previously I was fine. Harry was being his old self again. I only had a couple more days in hospital. In a week and a half, I would be touring the United Kingdom with One Direction.

I was more than fine.

There was another knock on my door before it opened again. Harry and I both turned to look.

"Oh hey, Martha," I said with a small smile as my favorite nurse walked through the door.

"Hey sweetheart," she replied before turning to Harry. "I'm really sorry son, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

No! Everything is going so well! I'm scared if Harry goes, all of this will go with him.

"No, please Martha- can't he stay, please?" I begged, looking from Harry to the nurse.

"I'm sorry, baby, but it's after visiting hours and I've got to give you your medication. It's the drowsy kind."

"I really should get going anyway," Harry said, standing up. "The boys don't know I'm here."

I felt my eyes sting with more tears but I blinked them away. I really do cry over everything. It must be the hospital. It's so draining here.

"Okay," I said softly. "Bye Harry."

"Bye babe," he said quietly. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, tucking my hair behind my ear. He smiled at Martha and then he was gone.

Martha plugged the drip into my arm and shook the bag slightly. She turned to walk away but I stopped her quickly.

"Please stay. I mean, at least until I fall asleep. It shouldn't be too long." I could already feel the thick medicine oozing through my veins and clouding my head.

"Alright, baby. Not too long though," she said, taking Harry's recently vacated seat.

Martha was like a mother to me while I was in here. She would have a friendly conversation with me almost every time she was in my room, she would check up on me, she cared about me and she put up with me. Martha was the one to comfort me all those nights after the thing with Harry. She had been there for me for a while now.

"Do you think I'm normal, Martha?" I asked, my voice slightly slower than usual.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just because I was just this girl, but then I moved to London and now I have six of the best friends ever and then I got pregnant and soon I'm touring the UK with One Direction, but oops, I wasn't meant to tell anyone so you can't say anything about that, gotcha?"

She looked at me funny.

Maybe the meds are working already.

"And shouldn't the shelf have hurt me more than it did?"

Martha pursed her lips and nodded. "You're right. It should have. But you're all healed now."

"Why didn't it?" I asked.

I mean, I'm nothing special. I have some bad karma- if anything it most likely would have hurt me worse if karma had a say in anything. But it didn't. Sure, the shelf took my baby, but I'm still alive and apparently fertile (after an awkward conversation with the Doc.)

"Well," Martha began, "I think someone up there cares about you very much." She pointed to the roof with her index finger.

I raised an eyebrow and looked up too. "In the heart-attack ward?"

Martha laughed at me. "No, baby- heaven! I think you have your very own guardian angel looking out for you."

Mum and Dad. They'll look after my baby for me.