Effortless (h.s.)

Chapter TWENTY SIX - airport

I hurried behind my two parents, rushing out of the freezing cold ramp that connected our plane into the airport. The force of gravity pulled me down the ramp at a rapid pace but not quick enough to keep up with my parents.

My dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two days ago, no one told me until I was on the flight.

The chances of him surviving were slim and the chances of him making it through another year were even slimmer. I wasn't sad for the current Lennon though, as strange as that might sound. I didn't care about my family as much as I once did.

I cried for old Lennon, the one who was close to her family and would spend hour after hour hanging out with them while all of her other friends were out.

There was no reason to cry over losing someone who you have already lost.

My mother seemed to be in shambles at the moment, I guess after I left they just had each other so they grew closer only to be granted with the tragic news.

The scariest part of this all was my dad wanted to have his funeral in Canada. Meaning multiple things. First being he has already accepted his death, he isn't going to fight it. Something I find incredibly cowardly, not because I think he should keep living for himself but he has my mother. To not even try and come out of this alive and let my mom watch him slowly die, I think that's fucked up.

Secondly, the plane ride here was booked two days ago so he found out about his cancer and immediately bought plane tickets to his death. He picked his death place and accepted his death within twenty four hours of his diagnosis.

I adjusted my brown hoodie that held in the heat to my head, and then yanked my army green trench coat over my shoulders a bit more. It was much colder here than it was in LA.

The duffel bag I brought with me wasn't very heavy considering I didn't have much clothing, it was a sad sight to see really. I looked washed away and dead but still living. And on the opposite side of the spectrum my father really was dying, but he looked perfectly fine.

To the average eye, he looked like the typical white suburban father.

I glanced down to see my black skinny jeans with holes in the knees, they were hanging slightly off of my body. My glazed over eyes didn't blink, it made sense. The only time I would ever eat was when I was with Harry, other than that I would only drink coffee or tea.

We were greeted by huge walls of glass windows and endless people rushing to and from different terminals, escalators, and entrances.

My body was so fatigued, I thought back to my run and how disgusting I felt after and the mood swings I was getting. It was because I wasn't taking care of myself anymore, my mind was consumed with thoughts of Harry. I couldn't do anything without thinking how he would react.

A lump grew in my throat. Why am I doing everything in my power to end up slowly killing myself?

I stopped walking in the middle of the airport. My parents unknowingly continued on without me. My blank stare was enough to give anyone who dared to look the chills. The hollow blue eyes had the depth of the ocean, but there was nothing inside of them. A cold, empty stretch of water that once held the most beautiful creatures.

I swallowed, each thing my parents said to me while forcing me out of the house rang uncontrollably my head.

Canada was lovely, this I was certain of. But there was no way I was going to let anyone control me anymore, especially my parents. They only brought me along because of a blood relationship, not because they cared.

Why should I care about people who don't care about me?

Family isn't who raised you, family is who never left you.

My brown pointy booties stared back at me while people zoomed around me, too consumed with their thoughts and duties to notice the small girl crying in the center of a terminal. I liked that no one noticed, I no longer had to be strong and fake confidence.

Upon opening my eyes, I realized I wasn't home. My head was on the seat of a toilet and when I looked inside, there was vomit everywhere. I jolted back a bit, what had happened?

When I looked to my left, there laid Harry.

His back was pushed up against the bathroom cabinet and he was completely wiped out. His cheek was resting on his shoulder while his arms were crossed, one of his legs was completely extended while the other was closer to his chest.

Another tear slid down my freckled cheeks,. I wiped it and suddenly realized what I had gotten myself into. I was in a foreign airport by myself with five hundred dollars to my name, about ten shirts, four pairs of pants, and the single pair of boots that were on my feet.

My chest heaved in panic, I had left the only person who gave the slightest shit about me. I wasn't worried about losing him anymore, that seemed like a distant memory that haunted my subconscious. It was now about getting back to him somehow because I don't have a family anymore.

He would have me over to hang out, make me dinner, care for me whenever I was feeling ill. That's what friends do for each other, and I was such a dick to him for it.

Deep down, I knew he cared for me as much as I cared for him. He wouldn't have been so persistent if he didn't.

I believed him when he told me he only had Sierra over to make me jealous, because he knew it would work. Everything started to click into place. He lied about Dylan being at the door to keep me away from him, not to be malicious, but because he was jealous too.

I don't know what came over my exhausted state, but I started to run. The duffel bag resting on my shoulder suddenly has next to no weight, my slightly heeled shoes clicked on the tile floor as I sprinted around people, no longer caring who was watching.

There was no way for me to contact Harry, I didn't have his phone number.

I kept running until I got outside into the chilly Canadian air, looking both ways before running across the street and then down into the subway station.

The first train ride back to America was my only option at this point.