Terrible Things (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter Fifty - Four

April...

HARRY'S POV.

"Harry, what happened?" Camille asked, being the first one to notice my frantic running.

I turned to her, replaying the voicemail. "I have to fucking go. It's Diana. I think she's in trouble."

"What do you mean? What kind of trouble?" Niall asked.

"I think she's trying to kill herself, but you guys cannot come. Please, just don't do anything until I call. Please." And then I left.

I honestly could not give two flying fucks if Diana got mad at me for telling them her secret - that she was depressed. The only thing I gave a shit about was knowing that she's alive. Once I got into my car, I quickly put my phone on speaker and pressed her number. But there was no answer. After four or five rings, it went to voicemail, and I found myself calling her several times.

I was so close to her house after ten minutes before I was stopped by a red light. I broke hard, realizing that I wouldn't be able to beat the light. I moved foward, stopped by my seatbelt, and I hit the back of my seat hard. "Fuck!" I yelled, slamming the wheel with my hand. I picked up my phone and called her again, actually praying that she would pick up. But she didn't. Surprise. And when the phone went to voicemail, and I hung up, the light turned green, and I sped to her house.

Making a swift turn into the driveway of her house, I quickly pulled the key out, and left my car with my phone in hand. I tried the door, but it was locked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I rang the doorbell several times. Nothing. I moved towards where she kept her spare key. At first, I got scared because I thought it wasn't there. But after more feeling aorund, I found it, and I opened the door.

Quickly, skipping steps, I ran up to her room. Barging into her room, she wasn't in there, though. However, I knew that she wasn't stupid enough to do this in her room. She was going to do it like Aunt Charlotte. She was doing it in her bathroom. I went to her bathroom, and tried the door, but it was locked. "Diana! If you're in there... if you can hear me.. Please, open the door!" I yelled.

But there was no reply. However, I could hear her in there. She was sobbing and breathing heavily.

"Diana, please! Please, just open the door!" I continued to yell. I banged on the door, and I'd managed to make a few cracks in it. But that was all. I sighed, and fell to the ground. And soon, I felt tears coming to my eyes. Tears that didn't even know existed. I tried to blink them away like Diana usually does, but it wasn't working. "Fuck." This time my voice was low while speaking. "Diana, baby. Please open the door. I love you... please don't do this. Just let me talk to you first. Please. There are so many things that I have to tell you. Please, Di. I'm begging you. Just let me talk to you. If you let me talk to you, and you still want to do this afterwards.. I won't stop you. Please," And finally, a tear came out. I mentally punched myself for letting a girl do this to me - make me emotinal. But Diana wasn't just any girl.

The door opened slightly, and I stood up quickly, trying to contain myself. "Harry, you need to leave." Her voice was low and light. She finally opened the door all the way.

Just the sight of her was breathtaking. "Diana..." I trailed off. Her hair was up in a ponytail with some pieces coming out of the sides, and she was in pajamas. Her nose was red, and she had a layer of black covering under her eyes. Her mascara had obviously been running. I ran to her, and hugged her tightly. I looked towards the counter to the open bottle of pills.

"Harry, please... I can't have you near me. I'm just going to hurt you."

"No you're not. I love you so much, Di."

She sighed and moved away from me. "You said you had to talk to me," she said, not replying that she loves me too.

She was so emotionless. It broke my heart to the largest extent. "I do, but can you just come out of the bathroom first. I just want to talk to you for a while."

She came out, shutting the door behind her. "You know that you shouldn't be here right?"

"Why not?"

"You were supposed to just listen to the voicemail and then come here, but it'd be too late. You were supposed to let me die, Harry. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to save me."

"Why are you saying this?" I asked. I couldn't believe that these words were coming out of her mouth. It was so... not like her.

Then a tear came out of her eyes. "You can't always be there to save me, Harry. I'm not the girl that you think you knew. You don't know me. This is a part of me that no matter how hard I try, I can't get rid of. Harry, I am depressed. I am not okay. I don't deserve you. I'm a horrible... terrible person. And you just coming here to save me proves that I really am not worthy of you. I'm not perfect like you are. I'm not amazing like you are. I'm not forgiving like you are. And I'm most definitely not as strong and loving as you are. You always find a way to do things that are in the best interest of me instead of you. And I don't. I'm selfish, Harry. I don't think like you do. I think in a way where I think of what's best for me."

"Killing yourself isn't what's best for anyone... it never is and it never will be. Just come sit down here with me, and let me talk to you."

She walked towards the bed slowly and took my hand. "Okay... before I start, I just want to say that right before I left my place, Camille and them had asked me what was wrong and why I was so frantic and upset. And I told them that I believed that you were trying to kill yourself. And I don't regret it. Now, I don't care if you're mad at me for that because I'm happy that I told them. At that moment, the only thing I cared about was whether or not you were okay."

She took in a deep breath, processing everything. "Alright, now tell me whatever you have to say."