Bittersweet

Three

“Here.” I handed Harry a towel.

“Thank you.” He muttered under his breath and then made his way to my bathroom.

When I was a kid, I always wished for an own bathroom both with a tub and a shower. I was 13 when I finally got it, thanks for my mum. She went to different places to work just to get it for me. She had a heart of an angel and I knew she would’ve done anything for us. After work she usually came home with a bag of gummy turtles which my brother and I loved so much. I adored these selfless gestures from her. They showed she really was a wonderful person. When I lost her I tried to kill myself. That was only a momentary psychosis, so I stopped myself because I wanted to eat more ice cream. Jokes.

That was because I knew she would’ve been very disappointed if I did. 

I hopped on my king sized bed and took a random book from my shelf. The one I chose was a history book so I instantly put it back because the only thing I felt about history was pure hate. I know it’s stupid, but I almost jumped off a cliff after those classes. So I just got my pyjamas from my wardrobe and waited. Soon, the door opened and Harry walked out of the steam coming from the room. He wore a black band t-shirt with sweatpants and his hair was pushed back.

“Erm, I found this in the tub opened.” He showed off my journal awkwardly.

Well, that wasn’t a proper diary, I just wrote silly things in it, about myself, my feelings, the world… You know, those sentimental stuffs. I hope he hasn’t read them because if he did, he must be very scared of me considering my strange thoughts.

“Damn.” I murmured in shock. “Thanks.” I grabbed the small booklet and he grinned in satisfaction, for making me feel embarrassed.

Ugh, boys.

“Okay, then I’ll show you where to sleep.” I directed him to the guest room. “You can find everything in here. Just don’t go outside after 4 AM because my dad is clearly capable of killing someone who doesn’t let him relax in his own morning hours. Not to mention he doesn’t even-“

“I got it.” He sat down. Well, alright.

“Then, good night.”

I was about to leave when he called my name:

“Alice.” I looked back above my shoulders. “Thank you.” He sent me a grateful glare.

In respond I only nodded. I knew what he meant. There is a loss of people who would help others in need. I’d never say I’m a good person because I’m clearly not with a past like mine. It’s ridiculous how you can change completely in a very short amount of time. That is the thing called will.

***

“Don’t you dare!” She stood up from her seat.

“I’ll do because I can and you’ll never be able to stop me.” I lit the lighter and ripped a piece of paper of the book. That was the only thing that left from my mother.

We both watched the flames taking over the control of my mom’s pain. She wrote it. She put her grief on those pages. I never ever wanted to see the life draining out of a human who was meant to live a happy life. But that was her destiny, and I was convinced that if she wouldn’t have written the book she would still be alive. You know, pessimism is uncontrollable. But I believed in her. I thought she could’ve watched the better side of everything. Yet, cancer got rid of her. And I was uncontrollably mad at her for it.

I cried out in pain when I woke up. Pain which came straight from my heart. I opened my eyes slowly and switched on the table lamp. I wiped off the salty sweat off my mouth and uncovered myself. The time was 2:33 AM.