Sincerely, yours. - A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 11

Author's note:

Hola, well here's Chapter 11, before you start, i know i said this one would be SUPER suspenseful, i know it's not LOL but it's like a filler, or a build up to the suspense. The next chapters are going to be better, but this one explains some things that builds up to the climax. lol idk. anyways, hope you enjoy anyways, Chapter 12 is already written & it's (in my opinion) one of the best in Sincerely, Yours. Thank you lovelies for all the reads! I'm almost at 5000! woot woot! Now, for the story!

Chapter 11

November 22nd 

8:41am 

We both sat in silence, the whole room swarmed with tension. Sara clung to the sofa, her hands in fists, her eyes securely shut. 

“Sar,” I began, placing one hand on her knee. 

She didn’t say a word. She simply sniffled and shuffled farther away from me. 

I was so torn. If I hadn’t saved Sara, I would most likely hate myself for the rest of my existence, and now, she wouldn’t speak a word to me. Why had she been so angry at me? I had saved her life for crying out loud! 

“Thank you for finding her, Elizabeth. Thank you.” her mum turned to me with a teary smile. 

I nodded and pursed my lips, wishing Sara would hold as much enthusiasm about what I did, as her mother had. 

“You can go to sleep?” she offered, seeing I was tired, as she dabbed her tear-dotted-face with a tissue.

I shook my head, refusing to leave Sara’s side for as long as it took her to talk to me. 

“I’m afraid I’ve got to go to work. The hospital needs me for some urgent call. I really would stay if I could, please don’t leave her.”

I nodded and agreed to stay for the rest of the morning. 

“My husband will be home at noon, and Rain is in daycare, but for now, feel free to sleep.”

I wouldn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Just after Mrs. Clarke left, Sara stood up, making her way to the kitchen. I made sure I could keep an eye on her while she hastily scrambled through the cupboards. She finally pulled out something and made her way back to the living area. I noticed she carried three bottles of different varieties of Scotch. 

I stared at her and she plopped down heavily back where she sat before. 

“What are you doing?” I questioned. 

“What does it look like?” she retorted, popping one of the caps off of the bottle. 

“Sara I don’t think you should be---” 

She stopped me, “shut up. You don’t know a thing about what I should and shouldn’t be doing, Elizabeth. You think you’re so perfect, knowing what’s best for everyone, and you expect us all to be perfect for you. Sorry babe, but you need a reality check.” she snapped, grabbing hold of the neck of the bottle and tipping it; swallowing mouthfuls at a time. 

Her words stunned me. I could barely utter a sound, as I watched her chugging down half the bottle of alcohol. 

“You don’t know a thing about me Sara.” I replied, anger washing through my voice. 

She didn’t come back with some witty reply, she simply took the bottle and gulped down more of it’s contents. 

So much fury filled me. I clenched my fists and grasped one of the two bottles that sat innocently on the oak table before us. Sara watched me as I screwed off the cork and looked to her, as I guzzled down the liquid, barely stopping to catch my breath. It burned my throat. I hadn’t drank much over the year, so it was almost like a new feeling to me. This was exactly what I needed, to get my mind off of everything, to engulf myself in the foggy world of the alcohol.