Ripped Away (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Anne paced anxiously as she waited for her son’s plane to arrive at the London Heathrow Airport. It was nearly 4 pm. She had tried calling him a thousand times, but he wasn’t picking up. She hoped with all her heart that he was safe, at the very least.

Looking up at the list of arrivals, Anne saw that flight 392 from Calgary, Canada had landed. Her heart raced as she waited by the terminal doors.

Crowds of people walked by hurriedly and Anne lifted herself to her toes, trying to see over all the heads. Eventually, after most of the passengers had exited the plane, Anne saw her boy, dragging down the hall miserably, head hung low. His eyes were swollen and fatigued.

Harry looked up to see his worried mother by the doors. He tried to maintain composure as he approached her, but was unsuccessful as his eyes squinted and his chin tightened, revealing his throbbing anguish. Heartbroken, Anne embraced her child as he sobbed helplessly into her shoulder.

They cried together for a few moments, unable to say a word. Anne didn’t know what she could say to console her son. He’d just experienced the unimaginable. Nothing would ever be the same, and nothing could change that.

“Baby,” she said carefully, stroking his head. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Harry stood upright and looked into his mother’s eyes. He nodded slowly, his tormented expression unchanged.

They retrieved Harry’s bags and stealthily slipped out of the busy airport without being recognized by anyone. The news hadn’t slipped to the press yet, and for that Harry was grateful. He wasn’t prepared to face the world. He just wanted to be alone.

The drive to Anne’s house seemed longer than usual. When they arrived, Harry stared at his old home and remembered all the times he had brought Crystal there for them to relax together. Anne was always willing to have the two of them over. She thought the world of Crystal.

Harry thought about the day Crystal had walked straight into the glass door leading to the backyard. Harry had closed it after stepping outside and she intended on following him, but instead her face smacked right against the glass and she stumbled back, bewildered. Harry had never laughed so hard in his entire life. He collapsed to the concrete, roaring. She stepped out after a few seconds, rubbing her nose, frowning at Harry for laughing at her. He felt really bad afterwards, but he couldn’t deny that it was the funniest thing he had seen in his life.

As the memory flashed in his mind, he was conflicted. He wanted to laugh, since it was just so funny, but the very thought of Crystal in any circumstance made his gut wrench. He figured that he would never be able to express joy again.

Anne came around to the back of the car to retrieve Harry’s bags. “Just so you’re aware, Paul and the boys are inside waiting for you. They’re worried sick. We all were.”

Harry closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the lads just yet. He didn’t want to be around people anymore. He didn’t want to have to hold back and be strong. The nine hour plane ride was torture, and now he feared he’d scream out at any moment.

Unwillingly, he forced his feet to carry him up to the house, and Anne held the door open for him as he stepped into a sea of concerned faces.

Niall, Liam and Zayn stood up from the couch and Paul and Louis stopped pacing around the room as soon as they heard the door open. As Harry walked in slowly, he swallowed hard. His throat was choking up and he felt as though his emotions might make him implode.

He dared a glance at Louis who was standing closest to him. His red eyes revealed that he had been crying, and his face was washed of any color. He looked physically ill.