Bump (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 18 - Back Home

Hazel's POV

     Life wasn’t exactly a walk through the park when I finally went back home. No, it was more of like a walk through a battlefield whose battle was already over. Not exactly like that; I mean it in a way that it represents the atmosphere of my life when I came home. Grim, but you can tell there is hope hidden in the wake of a so-called ‘war’.

     What war that might be though, I don’t exactly know.

     The wounds on my face are gone thank God, and I only get the occasional headache. I have a small scar on my scalp; a bit visible since (holy shit) I was shaved on my left side of the head. They only took off the bandages two days before I was released. Before they did though I still looked like myself, I think. Now I look I’m some heavy metal rock fan, which I think may not be too bad. The scar stretches from the top of my ear to the side of my head, about three inches long. It may sound awful but hey, it could be worse right?

     My arms fortunately look as good as it were before the accident happened (or so according to my father); I guess I can believe it because it has so little evidence of the accident. Torso’s not so fortunate because I have tiny scars evenly distributed all over like I’ve been sprinkled upon with the shit. Left leg is a-okay. My main issue is the right leg; still heavily wrapped in bandages, I went home in a wheelchair, and will probably spend a week-and-a-half more in a wheelchair. After that, I am free of it―or as Dr. Foster would like to say, ‘You can finally use crutches!’ It’s still painful but it’s bearable, like the pain after a heavy exercise only it’s constant. Oh well....

    And let’s not forget to mention that I have retrograde amnesia and that I lost a lot of memory beginning from I-don’t-know-when up to the accident.

     It could be worse. It could be freaking worse. Yeah for all I know, I could have that type of amnesia wherein my mind would reset every night when I sleep. Like that Adam Sandler-Drew Barrymore movie. So far my mind did not do that and I am still sane.

     My family threw me this kind of ‘Welcome back!’ or ‘So glad you’re still alive!’ surprise party when I arrived. They hid the surprise in the classic way: pretending like everything’s normal, and then when you haven’t even step a foot inside the house boom, the whole community is inside your home.

     My relatives were there of course, mostly from my dad’s side since my mother’s relatives were in the Philippines. Some of our neighbours were there, even those who I didn’t even know existed (no offense).

     My friends were there and the three girls screamed the moment they laid eyes on me, then rushed to me and crushed me in a bear hug. Chris, Eric and Garrett waited for their girlfriends to calm down and then they hugged me, and as usual, there’s that slightly awkward moment with Eric. My memory is still pretty clear enough to remember those days.

     Once we’re eating and talking and possibly having fun, I couldn’t help notice that a certain someone was missing from the scene. I mean I’d love to see all five of them but then again, who am I to ask for that. I don’t want to be demanding, I just long to see him again. I tried to ignore that voice that kept on chanting pleas for Harry to come, and I became successful. He and his gorgeous friends are momentarily forgotten and I am able to talk straight to those around me.

     “How are you?”

     “I’m okay.”

     “How’s your leg?”

     “Still painful but will manage, ha ha.”

     “So you don’t remember anything?”