Dead Sea // Harry Styles

Chapter 20

Harry's POV

It's been a couple weeks since Adalaide's death. I have been trying not to think much about it, although it's rather hard. The boys haven't been worrying too bad about it, but they never knew her like I did. They never got to know her. Each night I haven't been able to sleep, Each night is exactly the same as the others. If I do get any sleep, my dreams are always of her. Always about her cold, grey body, sprawled across my forearms. Her Head limping off of my hands. Her black eyes and pale white lips spewing water.

Louis comes over sometimes so I don't get lonely. Eleanor tries to bring some of her friends around so I can forget all about Adalaide and move on already. It's been not even a month and they are trying to get me to forget all about her. It's not fair really. None of this is fair.

"Want to go out to dinner tonight?" Eleanor asks.

"I can't."

"I'm bringing Margret with me."

"I know, Louis told me." I continued to lay down on my couch and watch t.v. I didn't want to actually watch it. I just needed backround noise. All that's playing is an info-mercial about overproced jewelry nobody wants to wear. She stands next to the couch in silence, waiting for me to oblige to her offer. When she realizes I'm not going to say anything she sighs heavily and walks out the door, slamming it dramatically. The tour is going to start in a week. We planned for Adalaide to come with us, well I planned at least. I was hoping she would stick around long enough and forced to go, having nowhere else to go. And if she didn't go it was because her memory came back and she went back to where she was meant to be. Not this. This isn't how it was supposed to end. This tragedy isn't what was supposed to happen. Hoping Dr. Martina looked at her body, I wonder how he feels about her death. Knowing he saved her once but failed the second time. Then I think of how her nurse Maggie is doing. If she heard that her patient is dead. And then I think back to her parents. How their little girl is soon to be six feet under their very feet.

The thought of her parents breaking down sobbing gives me chills. I can just imagine her mother on her knees begging for mercy thinking this is all a mistake. In a hysterical state of mind.

How could this man do these things to her? How could George drag her into this. God I hope he's dead. I hope his last breath was in agony and his screams weren't heard. I hope he died unloved and alone. This is all his fault. This is all of his fucking fault. She would be alive. Yes, I wouldn't have met her, but I don't care. She is dead and she left me unwillingly.

I knew she loved me. I always have known she loved me. Even when she claimed she was with George, I knew. I never could say it back to her because I knew if I had I would have broken her heart. I knew a small world like that wouldn't have been able to deal with the world at large.

I turned off the tv and grabbed a book from the coffee table. White Oleander was the only one there. I remember her telling me about this book on the train. About the plot and how it's her favorite. The complexity and half novel, half poem it is written in. About a drifter. She loved books about drifters. She had no idea she was one.

I looked at the back of the book and decided I couldn't read her favorite novel. Not yet. I picked up a jacket and shoes and walked out the front door. I'm going to find another place, maybe one I can stand. I need to find a new town. Live a different way. I barely can look at my friends. Whenever I do. I just think of the night they helped me drag across the dock, into the car.

I decided I'm going to float along. I'm going to get in my car, and go wherever it takes me. I decided I'm not going to stick around for anybody. I'm going to do this for myself. It's almost spring time and it makes me feel a little more lonely than the winter ever did. The short few months Adalaide was with me didn't change who I was or my entire life being like most cheesy books and movies, all that sort of bullshit. But she slowly become apart of me.