Flicker (H.S)

24.

keep up the comments, they make my day :)

this one is sad, like most of them, and short. but i feel like it’s one of those that needs to be separate from the others, since it’s so significant. this is definitely everly’s darkest point. so if you aren’t comfortable with depression and suicidal acts, do not read on.

24.

“She was nice to me.

And I think that’s why I fell so hard for her. Or maybe because she always gave me her yellow gummy bears for a reason unknown to me, and I had decided that yellow gummy bears were my favourite. They matched the colour of that dress she always wore as well, so I found it convenient that the ones she despised were the ones I adored.”

[autobiography of Harry Styles; read October 1st, 2016].

______________________________________

SNOW blankets the sidewalk underneath Everly’s racing feet, beautiful and cold as the frozen water seeps through the ratty fabric of her trainers.

Beautiful and cold.

What a combination. A horribly familiar combination, at that.

Beautiful and cold.

Frost-bitten fingers escape the warm confines of her jumper pocket to wrap around the frigid metal of her doorknob. Chills shoot from her fingernails all the way down her spine, to her toes. Goosebumps arise instantly under the numerous layers of clothing adorning her body, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Beautiful and cold, beautiful and cold.

Her home is familiar but so is the depression weighing down her bones. So, like the true masochist she is, Everly pads across the tile to the phone where her fingers race across the buttons quickly, having memorized the number after the first call.

Beautiful and cold, beautiful and cold, beautiful and-

“I’m so sorry.” His first words are rushed and heavy with meaning but Everly doesn’t know what that meaning is. “She was all over me-”

“Yeah. I saw.” She chokes out.

Beautiful and cold.

“I don’t love her, not even a bit. I don’t even like her.” He pleads. She hears the sound of a car door closing and scolds herself as she wishes he would show up at her doorstep, cold and with snowflakes in his eyelashes, His long, dark eyelashes. Long, dark, beautiful eyelashes.

Beautiful and cold.

What a combination.

“I don’t like her at all, Evie. I love you.”

“No you don’t.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Can I come over? Now? Can I come over now, please?”

Beautiful and cold.

“No.” She replies, rubbing the hand that isn’t holding the phone against her jeans to warm her fingers up. “No you can’t, Harry. Sorry.”

“M’ sorry, Evie. So sorry, so, so sorry. Can I come over? Need you.”

“Wanted to tell you goodbye.”

A whimper is heard on the other side of the line.

Beautiful and cold.

Beautiful and cold.

Beautiful and-

“I love you, Everly. Please don’t. Please don’t. I love you.” He cries. He’s crying and Everly doesn’t feel anything.

She is frozen.

“I love you! I promise, I love you, I love you. Don’t hurt yourself. I love you.”

“Stop it.” She says calmly. Her voice shakes.

She is frozen.

“I’m almost there. Just don’t do anything, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

But it is too late.

The phone has been dropped and the girl with skinny legs and a broken heart is already looking for a knife.

Maybe if she breaks her skin the pain of her broken heart won’t eat at her as much.

The light catches the metal and it glints as she lowers it to the skin on her wrist. She jumps at the blade touches the olive-coloured flesh.

Beautiful and cold.

Beautiful and cold.

Beautiful and cold.

Fast and red.

Fast and red.

Fast and red.

Black.