Sarah (h.s)

Chapter Six

Sarah

Downstairs is so bright and airy my head is already spinning. As if it could anymore. My muscles are still stiff, my walk is slow and I am feeling threatened when turning around every unknown corner of this ghostly house. The kitchen comes into view and reminds my stomach that it's empty. Harry is standing over the stove watching something, spatula in hand. I am unsure whther to make my prescence known, but it turns out I didn't need to.

'I'm making you some chocolate-chip pancakes. They used to be your favourite. I'm thinking you're hungry,' Harry mumbles over his shoulder.

'Uh, thank you,' I manage to mumble back, already feeling the expectation falling on me to act like this 'Sarah' person. It's an expectation that is weighing so heavily my chest begins to hurt. The huge room slowly begins to warm with the smell of chocolate.

'I made you a cup of tea, if you want it,' Harry voice is timid, almost as if he is as terrified as me in this room, in this huge house.

'Thank you,' I mumble even quieter than Harry and shuffle towards the counter, taking the white mug into my hands, slightly burning my fingertips as they press against the overheated cup. I look around the kitchen, noticing the green in the tiles, the dirty cup in the sink, the smoothness of the floorboards underneath my feet and the sunken couch behind me. It seems like a well lived-in house. Like someone has set up their life in here and it's still just moving along. Have I interrupted it? Or was it my life? I don't let myself stumble over it for too long. I could feel myself getting too hungry for that. Harry walked around the counter to the place the now full plate of pancakes down. I sit down quietly at the set table, seeing Harry standing by the kitchen counter, timid and distant.

'We could, we could eat together?' I whisper apprehensively. I am beginning to feel a little over being alone. This whole day I have never felt more alone. I watch Harry's eyes light up as he moves toward me. I don't think he was expecting me to ask him to eat with me. Sitting across from me I feel his now energetic eyes watch me as I grab a pancake, take another sip of my tea and pick up my knife and fork. Biting into the pancakes I hum quietly. They are delicious, just as I thought that they would be. Harry smiles up at me, and for a moment I find myself smiling back. The quiet is filled with the sound of cultury on plates. It's peaceful and I can feel the stress of the unknown begin to fall away.

'Is it okay?' Harry asks. I nod back, not trusting my voice. Harry nods in return, looking relieved. 'Are you, are you okay?' He watches me finish my mouthful.

'I think so. It's just,' I pause my thought, not sure if I want to ask anymore of him. He seems on edge and I don't know him. I truly don't know him.

'It's okay, you can ask me anything. I know this is a lot. I can't imagine waking up and not knowing who you are.' Harry's words begin to relax me.

'I guess I was just wondering where we are, I mean the house,' I stumble a little.

'Well, we live, I mean the house in on Elias Road. It's about 10 minutes from town and about two hours from London,'

'London,' I mumble. 'What about my family? Who, uh, where is my family? Do I have anyone?' I see Harry deflate a little and I begin to worry.

'When you were in hospital, when you were in a coma, your parents took the news of you perhaps never waking up again very hard. So, so hard that they left you,' Harry's voice covers my gasp. He begins to look angry as his forehead creases. 'They left you, not being able to bare the idea of you not waking up, so they decided it would be best if they didn't see you.' Tears begin to pool in my eyes. 'I was so angry that they gave up on you, so once you woke up, I thought it would be best if they didn't come and see you. I could handle your memory being gone, but I don't think they could bare it if they knew that you didn't know who they were. They lost their daughter in the crash. I didn't want to put them through more. And I didn't want you to worry about the pressure of trying to become their daughter again.' His voice begins to break. My tears are wetting my cheeks, but I remain quiet.

'They left me,' I whisper.

'I'm so sorry, Sarah,'

'It's okay,' I run out of things to say. The emptiness in my chest is growing.

'It is, love, it'll be okay. I won't leave you. I promise,' Harry stands up and walks around the table, squating down to my level as I sit at the table and looking into my eyes.

'Thanks, Harry,' I look at him for a moment and see the brightness in his eyes as he moves closer to me. I see the hope behind them.

'I'll look after you, baby girl,' He whispers, staring at my lips. He begins to lean in, but I can't kiss a stranger in this strange place. I turn my head away from him.

'I'm sorry, I- I just can't,' I feel awful for rejecting him. I'm sure the old Sarah kissed him everyday. The way his shoulders slump makes my stomach fall.

'No, no you're right, that would stupid of me. I am so stupid!' He stands quickly and his anger increases, his voice beginning to bounce off of the walls. "How could I have thought such a stupid thing. You don't even know who you are! I am such an idoit!' He screams at the wall, digging himself into the ground. He rakes his hands through his brown hair, pulling on the ends in frustration.

'You're not,' I try to interrupt, but my voice is so small against his. He continues storming around the room and I am unsure what to do. I could imagine he is be frustrated about me losing my memory, but his anger is frightening. 'You're not an idiot,' I try to calm him again, though it's as if he can't hear me as he paces around the living room. Drawn to his distress I stand up and softly place my hand on his back. He pauses his movement and the tightness in his broad shoulders dissolves under my touch. I look up at him a little frightened, but I am more confused as to how I managed to calm him with just my touch.

'Thank you,' He heaves, trying to calm his breathing down. Turning to face me, I see an admiration in his eyes. 'I've missed you so much.' He says as if a memory has come back to him. Maybe we were in love, in another time, in another place.

<><><><>

I found out today that my other story 'The Mansion' is ranked 2nd out of 4000 stories for 'Louis' and I cried of joy. I had no idea it was even ranked. It's given me hope. I hope you all understand how much I treasure you all. Thank you, a million times, thank you.

~ Littlethingss11