Anxious || Harry Styles

Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I walk into Harry's room a couple hours later. My eyes feel so swollen that it hurts every time I blink and my vision is constantly blurry. I just couldn't help but cry about everything that's happening. 

I see Harry on his stomach with his head facing the other direction. He's under the duvet, his body shielding away from me. 

It's silent. I don't hear the frequent deep breathing or the cute little snores that would usually come out of his mouth. Harry's awake but he is still shielding away from me. And it hurts a lot. He doesn't face me, doesn't try to communicate with me and it feels like my heart is being stabbed constantly.

I stand there contemplating what to do. Should I just go back to the kitchen and sit there and cry? Or should I stay here with him in hopes of him talking to me and hopefully show some kind of affection. I decide to stay here. 

I walk to Harry's desk and sit down, leaning my back against the chair. I look at Harry as flashbacks from earlier play in my head. And it pains me. It hurts me so much to see him look so vulnerable and broken, especially out in public like that. I can't imagine how much more anxious he is going to be going to school tomorrow. He probably won't go to school though, and I hope he doesn't because he needs rest. 

I take out my completed essay from inside my school bag. I carefully place it on the desk and look through it once more making sure it is perfectly written.

"I feel like that would be a great presentation and would open everyone's minds. Maybe even Abby and Sophie's."

Those two sentences keep replaying in my head and I can't believe I am actually thinking about presenting tomorrow. 

The thought scares me but I feel like I am cheating by skipping the presentation. I don't feel happy about myself letting my anxiety take over and not present when I am supposed to take over it. I can't let this disorder control me.

Yes, if I present I am going to have a panic attack. Yes if I do it, I probably won't be able to sleep or eat until a good few hours after I present. But I feel like with each presentation I do, I am slowly conquering this disorder. Slowly but surely. 

Mr. Rogers is right. Not lots of people know about this disorder and the severity of it and by talking about the quote and mentioning how it is to have anxiety will definitely open their minds. Maybe it will even make Abby and Sophie realize something and stop picking on people. It is really risky but it is definitely worth the risk. I'd do anything to help Harry.

I take out a folder from my bag and take out a few lined pieces of paper. I pull out a black pen from my pencil case and click it open. 

I try to ignore the heavy beating of my heart as I plan out my ten minute presentation for tomorrow. Once when I start writing, after a few sentence I get the hang of it and the words get written out much easier. I reread what I have a few times making sure they make sense before continuing. 

Halfway through, I take a little break and sit back against the chair I am sitting on. I hear heavy breathing. I look at Harry and see his back rising and falling slowly and calmly. Harry is finally sleeping and I am happy about that. But it still pains me a bit that he didn't even try to communicate with me confirming that he hates me right now. 

A few minutes after I get back to work and continue writing out my script for the presentation. I glance at the clock and reread my essay a few times so I know which key parts to include. After what seems like forever, I finish the script and breathe out with relief. 

I look at the clock and see it is almost nine at night. My stomach grumbles and that's when I realize I haven't eaten dinner. I quietly leave Harry's room and enter the kitchen where I see Anne preparing food.