That's when they took him from me. A Harry Styles Fan Fiction.

Twenty Eight - How Can You Save Me From Myself?

It was hard enough already, especially late at night when the house was quiet and I was alone with my thoughts.

“Niall’s dead, he didn’t make it out of the hospital.” He said.

I stared at him, waiting for the grin. Because this was a joke.

It didn’t come.

I don’t feel anything. Numb.

This story can’t just be packaged up into two or three sentences and it definitely can’t be packed into something neat and simple that people would immediately understand.

I felt like I was trapped in one of those terrible nightmares, the ones where you have to run, run till your lungs burst, but you can’t make your body move fast enough. Where you just try to run away from everything, knowing that in the future it’ll all come back to bite you in the bum. That’s how it always happens, doesn’t it? You’re finally happy with something; someone and then someone or something has to come and fuck it all up. Every single time. 

I haven’t talked to Liam.

I hadn’t left my room, since that night. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Why? That’s a good question. I can’t answer it. Is it because I’m crazy? 

Maybe. 

Probably.

I’ve been laying on this bed for god knows how many days. I was comfortable. I had no motivation to do anything, not even eat. The more I think that more I feel like crying.

I don’t like the memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break my promise to myself for this day. 

It’s a constant battle. 

A war between remembering and forgetting.

*Knock knock knock.*

“Tayla?” 

Zayn.

“Yeah.” The words barely managed to leave my mouth.

The door slowly and cautiously creaked open. The cautious footsteps of my coif haired friend patting against the carpet floor beneath his very feet. 

My whole body ached. My throat was hoarse and there hasn’t been one day I haven’t gone without crying myself to sleep. At one point I was even contemplating whether or not to get my tear ducts ripped out because I was so fucking sick of crying.

If I had a genie in a bottle right now and I could only have three wishes I knew exactly what i'd wish for.

Niall and Harry to come back.

To stop fucking crying.

And for everything to be back to normal, how it was only a few months ago.

It’d be perfect. 

Only a few months ago everything was perfect. It's weird just how quickly everything can change and how quickly fate takes it's toll.

He was humming a song, I couldn’t quite put my fingers on it.

He started to murmur the lyrics.

“You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, it’s true.” He sung.

No.

This was me and Harry’s song.

“Please don’t sing that song.” I whimpered.

Just remembering all the memories that go with that song brought the tears to my eyes. I tried my best to hide the fact that I was crying but my body was shaking, trembling from underneath me and I couldn’t do anything about it.