I thought that was a great chapter, but nobody commented.
Sadface.
Sad Elle is Sad. xx
(I still love you. This is an abusive relationship.)
What would happen if I killed Henry off?
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"Hey Bee, how was your day with Harry?" I said as she walked in the door at 8:30. That would be her bedtime, but she's wide awake.
"It was good. He got me a dress."
"Really?" I said looking up at Harry, who was beaming down at her.
"We might have gone shopping... she's a beautiful little girl."
"I know," I said pulling Bee up for a hug.
"How's Henry?"
"His fever hasn't gone down... but he'll be fine."
"Can I go talk to him?" She said, worry filling her small face.
"Yes, just be quiet and gentle."
She tiptoed into the spare bedroom, sliding the door open.
"Henry?"
"MOM HE'S DEAD!"
"No, he's just sleeping."
"No mom come look!"
I suddenly got really scared. What if she's just joking. She is. She's just kidding. Right?
I rushed into the room, and over to the soft bed in which my little boy was sleeping. I took the themometer and jammed it under his tounge. I checked his pulse. It was slow, but it should be, because he was sleeping. It was extremely slow for a small child though.
I pulled out my farenheit thermometer.
105.
"LIAM! CALL THE HOSPITAL!"
Harry rushed in, his eyes circular, and I then noticed the giant cirlces under them. Fear was written all over his face.
"Liam's not home, but I dialed them," He said, phone to his ear.
"Mommy what's going on?"
"Don't worry Isabelle, just... just go draw Henry a picture."
"Ok." She knew when to rest her case. She walked out of the room, paused at the door for a bit, then continued out.
"Hello?"
They picked up!
"This is Harry Styles..."
I stopped listening to what he was saying. I went to the fridge and got an icepack for his forehead. I put it on his head, and stroked the hair out of his face.
"They're on their way."
I picked Henry up, and he was extremely limp.
"Henry... Henry baby wake up."
His eyes remained shut.
"Henry dear, wake up."
"Wake up!"
I shoke him a bit.
"Wake up Henry!"
i'm not really sure what happened next. I remember bright lights, then sitting in the ER waiting chair. How funny. I always felt terrible for the people sitting here, waiting for news about their loved ones.
I always felt worst for the mothers and fathers. I related. Now I knew how truly terrible this was, sitting here at three in the morning.
Liam came to watch Isabelle. Harry was sitting here with me in these plastic chairs at 3 in the morning, petting my head.
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
I didn't say anything to that. I was so nervous and exausted and terribly unconsolably upset and anxious as hell.
Just praying to god, please let him be ok. Please.
