Smoke || larry

1

The first day of school brings a heavy weight to his chest because everyone is going to give him sympathetic looks and empty apologies. He's so tired of people telling him they're sorry because sorry means nothing. Sorry isn't going to bring her back.

The drive to school is empty, but he was prepared for this. She would have been in university by now, so he'd have driven to school alone no matter what happened. What he wasn't prepared for was how many tears built in his eyes as one of her favorite songs came on the radio. He blinks rapidly and quickly turns it off. He doesn't need music.

He pulls into the familiar parking lot and parks his car in his familiar spot. Everything appears the same, but it feels different. The school feels haunted by her ghost. He can practically hear her laugh as he looks at the big building and he yet again starts to blink back tears. He will not cry today.

He leaves his car and the warm September air breezes across his face. It feels good and he inhales the fresh air, hoping it'll clean out his lungs.

He starts the long walk to the front doors. Each step makes him feel like he's going to throw up and he's begging himself not to breakdown. It's when he finally reaches the door, that someone places their hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy," Liam greets him. Harry looks at him and sees Liam giving him a genuine smile. Harry thinks it's because Liam has already given him so much sympathy already he just has none left.

"Hey," Harry replies, his voice small. He can't seem to bring back the vibrant, happy way his voice used to sound. It's like it got taken away and buried inside her corpse.

"Ready? I think this year will be good," Liam tells him. Harry just nods because Liam says that every year.

"Hey!" someone shouts as soon as they open the door. They look up and Harry meets Nialls blue eyes square on. Niall doesn't give him a look of pity either, he just continues to smile.

"Harry! Holy fuck, you missed the best party last weekend," Niall tells him. Liam gives him an unimpressed look, but Harry is thankful for Niall. He needs someone to treat him normally.

"Next one," Harry tells him quietly. All three know it's a lie, but no one calls him out on it. They walk down the hall and Harry can feel people watching him. He just ignores them and gets his schedule.

His classes are fairly simple this term. The hardest class for him will be math, but it's always been his worst subject. He seems to move from class to class not absorbing any information. Hell, he doesn't even remember lunch.

Every class was the same though. Each teacher would call his name and right after they'd smile sadly and mutter; "I'm sorry for your loss."

So, when the final bell rings Harry rushes from the damned building and into his car. He doesn't wait for Liam or Niall and instead drives home.

He arrives and enters the cold house. It feels empty and unfamiliar to him. The once loving house now feels like ice.

He walks into the kitchen and sees his mom standing at the stove making food. She turns at the sound of him and her tired, empty eyes will probably haunt Harry in his dreams.

"How was school?" she asks, but Harry knows she doesn't care. She doesn't care about anything anymore.

"Horrible," Harry tells her honestly. She just nods and turns back to the stove and Harry slinks into his room.

His walls are barren, making the room appear uninhabited. He took down all his pictures and memories because it hurt to see them. He's hurt.

He just needs to be fixed.