Fighter |No Longer writing|

Part 78

3 Months later

Katherine’s POV

     I leaned down so my father wouldn’t have to make too much of an effort to kiss my cheek. He did so with ease and wished me luck. I took a nervous deep breath as I made my way to the door. Alicia was making her way down the stairs as I collected my bag.

“Morning,” she said happily.

“Morning,” I said, nothing close to her cheerful way.

“Can you give me a lift in to town?”

   I didn’t hesitate to accept. Her smile grew wider and she ran to get her shoes on. I walked out to the car and got it warmed up. We pulled out of the lane way at 7:45 AM, I had time to kill before classes started. Alicia tried to connect her ipod so we didn’t have to listen to what some people considered music.

“So what’s in town?” I asked as she clapped for herself for figuring out how my car works.

“Art gallery,” her head stayed glued to her playlist.

“Should’ve known,” I muttered.

    A foo fighter song faded in, embracing the silence gracefully. After a few moments Alicia spoke.

“You nervous about today?”

I shrugged, “Yeah. I should be used to it now,” I joked.

Alicia smiled, but she knew the truth.

“What about you?” I quickly changed the subject, “Ready to meet our new doctor?”

“Yes and no,” she pointed to the gallery so I wouldn’t miss it.

I giggled at her wide eyes as I pulled to the side.

“I want to meet her so she can see I’m perfectly fine, but she might have other observations.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile. She was the lucky one here. She only started having problems when they threw her in the nut house. I on the other hand should’ve gotten there sooner.

Alicia got out and turned to see my smile fading.

“Hey,” she said quietly grabbing my attention, “Have a good day.”

I nodded as she closed the door.

    The past four months it was hard to find true happiness. Every time I felt a hint of joy, my cruel mind would show me Harry. Not just him, not the nice memories of how he looked when I would wake up beside him. I only see him on the verge of tears, heartbroken.

   I tried adverting my attention as I pulled back on to the road. I haven’t figured out how to control my thoughts yet, piece by piece another memory with his curls collected in my mind.

      I felt drained. I had fallen asleep on the side of my father’s hospital bed. My eyes were closed; I could hear my father repositioning himself.

“Son,” my heart sank hearing my fathers voice.

‘Was he hallucinating? The doctors said it could happen,’ I began to panic. Before I could open my eyes and try to explain to my father the cruel reality we lived in, a familiar voice responded.

“Is she asleep?” I couldn’t believe he was in the room.

“Yes, she hasn’t left since this morning,” my father chuckled.

I almost jumped when Harry’s ring cladded hand pushed the hair that dangled over my face.

“I’m sorry Clive,” his voice was low.