Solace ~ h.s.

⪻ 15 ⪼

This chapter is dedicated to... FairyyLocal!!!!

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Healing. It's always easier said than done. And moving on, it's a hundred times harder to do than heal.

The day after the funeral, Harry went back home to his penthouse flat in Manchester. Edward didn't seem to notice his absence, even with the goodbye Harry bid him. I, on the other hand, noticed the absence of a friend immediately after him leaving the house.

The house was just so quiet.

We no longer needed him like we had the first few days. In order to move on completely, he had to leave as well. It's not like him staying over was practical and professional in the first place, though it was nice. Plus, he had been away from his real world for too long. He had to return back to his duties of saving lives.

We've kept in touch. I wouldn't be able to just let the only friend I have go the second he left us. His daily messages to me are the only things that keep a smile on my lips. I wake up to a good morning text and I fall asleep to a good night message. It's a cycle that I care not to break, no matter how stressed and frustrated I may feel.

Edward hasn't been coping as well as to be expected, if you can expect a certain way of coping. He didn't think I knew at the time, but he would cry himself to sleep every night for two weeks. The sounds of his sobs cracked my heart in two and every time I went in to help he would shy away underneath his covers. Thankfully, after a sit down and many sleepless nights for the both of us, the crying subsided.

Then came the endless questions from him. They went on for days and most times I had no idea how to answer. Mum and dad didn't leave because they hated me, right? Was it my fault? What's going to happen to us? Will you die and leave me too? Will I die? The questions were nearly impossible not to shake me up and worry me. I spent many hours on the phone with Harry, asking him far too many questions.

And then one day, the questions just stopped.

And now we're into the current state of coping that Edward is in, anger. Edward's developed a bit of an attitude, and by a bit I mean he's acting like a teenage boy going through puberty. Whether it's snapping at me, locking himself into his room, or simply just having a witty come back for a five year old, it's bad.

As for me, I'm doing okay. On days when I get Edward over to a friend's house or to school, I go into the city and work at my new job. I got a job at Smith and Carlton Publishing. The receptionist job the farthest thing from glamorous, but it pays well and is close to the flat that I bought for Edward and I.

The house was becoming a beacon of bad memories and expensive bills. Selling the house was one of the hardest things I had to do throughout this entire experience. We put a lot of my parents' things, that I just couldn't handle throwing out, into storage. You can't very well put the entire home into storage. I know that it's bugged Edward, but hopefully once we settle into the new place and his new school, all will be well.

Or so we hope and pray.

"This is it." I say, carrying the last box from the rental car towards the door of our apartment building.

I just picked Edward up from school back in Northwich and after a goodbye to our old home, we made the journey here. My brother was silent on the drive over, his attention solely on that of my tablet that I was letting him borrow. Even now, as I maneuver the box in hand so I can free my keys he completely ignores me.

"Are you ready to see our new flat?" I wonder, my voice trying to remain a bit happy in this time that I know is especially hard for the young boy.