Sincerely, yours. - A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 7

Author's note:

Hiya guys! So this Chapter is written a bit differently nearing the middle. It's changing to the past, as Elizabeth's point of view. Don't worry it's not that confusing aha, hope you guys like the new adition. I'm going to be uploading every few days. Remember to vote up and fan me! Hope you like it! 

Chapter 7

My mum peers in the room, her eyes searching for me. She smiles slightly when she see’s me. But her smile is crooked and nervous, like she's hiding something. 

“Hi hun,” she whispers. 

I clear my throat as a hello. 

I notice she’s holding something tightly to her chest. It looks like some type of diary, from the small part I can see of it. 

“I erm…got this today.” she says, holding it out in front of her, almost close enough for me to grasp. 

“What is it?” I manage. My throat suddenly feels dry, I cough and study the small book which had such familiarity to me, though i couldn't figure out why.

I squint at it in wonder. 

“Eli…” her voice cracks, “her parents dropped it off earlier.  They think it may be for you, the first few pages are only about you. I…I haven’t read it. But here,” she lightly lays the book down beside me. “Maybe this will be able to heal some part of you, love.” she says pursing her lips. Finally she turns around and heads for the door. I am left there alone, the wind blowing in softly from behind the curtains. A shiver climbs the lengths of my spine and bite my lip.

The air feels musty and cold. Suddenly, all is silent and all I can hear is the beat of my own heart, quickening with every thought. 

Leisurely, I reach my hand out and retrieve the book that sits on my night stand. The bindings have managed to come apart slightly and the leather cover feels cold against my skin. For a few moments, I hold my breath and simply admire it. Finally having something real of hers to hold on to. But at the same time, the thought absolutely terrifies me. It has her name engraved on the top, and I force my eyes to avoid the painful reminder. 

I find myself sliding the first page open and just looking at it. I don’t read any of the words, I just look. Her handwriting is so familiar and I see my name scribbled into the paper multiple times. 

I take the longest breath I can and close my eyes. 

This was her journal. I’d only seen it with her a few times, she tried to keep it so secret from everyone. I never knew why. 

Was I really about to re-open the wounds that have already began to heal? To find out every little thing about her. It is such a shame I have to learn all of these things after she has died. I wished my mum wouldn’t have shown me this. 

The temptation is nearly eating me alive. I want to know. Is there any way I could simply forget about it all and just continue trying to forget? I don’t think that was even a possibility now. They had said most of it is about me. 

My eyes flutter open and I shift my weight and try to sit up. It hurts more than I expect. But once again, I’m welcoming the pain with open arms.