Haunted | h.s

three » harry

I almost never sleep. Only sometimes I daze off for a few hours. But I'm always awakened by a nightmare.

Too many things in my head. When will it stop? Probably never.

"Harry?" a soft voice drifts into my room. The door creaks open.

I turn my head to see Gemma.

"Bad dream?" I whisper.

She nods, eyes glowing.

I pat the space besides me, ushering her to get in the bed.

Gemma always has bad dreams. We both do. She has never told me what they're about, but I don't need her to. I already know: we're both haunted by that day.

When you have a near encounter to death, it will haunt you.

"Mom's been worried about you," Gemma says, after she makes herself comfortable beside me.

"So?"

"She really wants you to have a good future Haz," she says. "She wants you to go to college."

I sigh. "I don't care about college."

"But—"

"Let's talk about this later ok?" I interrupt. I've had enough of mum and Gemma nagging about my future.

"Alright," she sighs. She shifts, placing her head near my shoulder. "Just promise me you won't be difficult with mum."

"I'll try," I say. It only takes a few minutes before Gemma's breath slows and she falls asleep.

I slowly lift myself off the bed, careful not to wake her. I'm not going to fall back asleep, no matter what I do.

I tug on a pair of black jeans, grab my boots, and quietly slip out the door.

_________________

It's a full moon tonight.

I lean against the lamppost, fishing out a cigarette and lighter. I've been smoking lately: a bad habit I've picked up.

The air is frigid and cold. I swing open the door of my car and hop in the front seat. I've always loved the smell of leather seats.

I huff out the gray smoke, dangling the cigarette between my fingers.
It's quiet.

When it's quiet, the memories always seem to creep back.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked, switching off the telly. We had been hanging around the hotel for hours now.

"What do you want to do?" Rima countered, a smirk playing on her perfect lips.

"This," I said, before tackling her onto the bed.

"Harry, stop!" she squealed in between fits of laughter.

I commenced tickling her sides.

"I hate you," she breathed after I finally stopped.

"No you don't," I said with a smirk. "You love me, and I love you."

She laughed. "Don't say that unless you mean it, or I might do something crazy like believe it."

"I do mean it."

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Really?"

"Yes really," I said. "Now say it back."

"Hmmm..." she teased.

"Do you need some convincing?" I threatened.

"No!" she laughed. Then she looked at me and said the words that always overwhelmed me, no matter how many times she repeated them.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you more," I said.

I placed my lips on hers, then on her neck, and she moaned out in pleasure, twisting her fingers in my hair.

"Wait Harry..." she said. "I think I know of something we could do."

I pulled back. "Now is the perfect time," I said playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "I was just thinking... We could go to that opera house. You could bring Anne and maybe Gemma and I'll bring my father when he comes back from the store," she said.

"Sure," I said with a smile. "What time?"

She glanced up at the clock. "6:30."

"Well, we have twenty minutes," I said, leaning down to kiss her again.

My breath hitches when I think of kissing her again. Just one more time.

I run my hands through my hair. I turn on the car and pull out the apartment parking lot.

I need a distraction. I need to stop thinking about her or I'll go crazy.

I take the route avoiding that place. The opera house.

Now, it is just an empty, cleared lot with a few tombstones buried in the ground to remember the ones who died.

But I still avoid it. It brings back too many painful memories.

I find the house easily: I've been here multiple times.

I pull into the driveway and walk up to the front door, knocking loudly.

I look down at my watch. It's almost midnight. She's probably still sleeping or not even home.

But to my surprise, she opens the front door in an oversize shirt and messy hair.

"Harry?" Victoria says groggily.

"Hey," I say, shifting on my feet.

"What's up?" she says with a yawn.

I push through the door. "I need you."

"Now?" she sounds surprised.

"Fuck, yes."

"Alright, calm down," she says with a devilish grin. "If you insist."

This is my distraction. Victoria.

"My dad is gone for the night..." she says.

She closes the front door and pushes me against the wall, sloppily placing her lips on mine.