Your not bad.

chapter 4: wake me up

<the day before harry leaves to england> quinns health has taken a turn for the worst. she has not eaten in these last three days. she is not able to move. she cannot see anyone. i dial her room number, "hello" i say nervous. "h-hello" a sickly quinn answers. i put my head down. "im sorry quinn" i say crying into the phone. "harry whats to be sorry for" she asks. "i gave you that alchol" i say ashamed with myself. "harry, i will get better, and when you come back from england we will go to the club" she tries to luagh bit it comes out as a cuagh. "harry, you took me to so many places and not only physically but mental. you never took me and said i was going to die. thats important to me." she says. " quinn, i have never met a person like you." i say luaghing. "why where you jelous of niall?" she asks. i dont answer. "i was not going to have sex with him." she says. "i know" i say. i can feel her smile through the phone. "i will talk to you later" i say. "love you harry" she says the words that slap me in the face. "i love you too." i say. we then hang up then phone. i grab my bags, and head out of the apartment. when i get on the plain im sitting next to a old women. "are you from england?" she asks, her accent thicker then mine. "yes, im accualy famous" i say. "oh really?" she smiles. "yes im in a band, but right now im heading home to see my mum." i say. "so your married?" she asks. "no ma'me..." i say. she gives me a frown. "im only 17" i say. maybe i will marry quinn.

i get off the plain and see my sister and mum. "mum! gemma!" i hug them. "harry, are you okay? we herd you where in the hospital!" they ask. " no i was visiting a girlfriend" i say. shit i said girlfriend. "harry! you have a gal" my mum smiles. "yea i guess" i nod. "is she okay" my mom asks. i nod.

after we get to the house i see a phone call on my phone from quinn. "hello!" i say answering. "harry styles?" the nurse is on the phone

<quinns pov> <after harrys call>

my bones are frail. i can feel them breaking. the nurse comes in every once in awhile to see if im still alive. she knows that soon i wont be. i pull out the box of my goodbye letters, moms, dads, and then harrys, i never finished it. i know once i die he will to inside. i put the pen to the paper for one last time to write the rest of the letter. i know that it was not the alchol that killed me but more or less harry never saying how much he cared. i know that he did care, and still dose. i look at the clock and wait for my time to run out.

if you like this, i have another on instagram, about 5sos, my insta is lukehemmingsisrachet. my twitters are @mjemola and @brookejemola!!! thank you for reading. by the way this is not the end of the story by any means.