Keep Holding On (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 13

Wednesday, May 4

(32 days left)

Valerie POV

When your heart is shattered into a million pieces, all you can do is try to keep holding on to the pieces and hope they don't fall. You breathe. You try to fall asleep. You try to not think about him.

Last night was a million years long. I kept looking at the clock, willing it to be morning already. I drag myself to my car. All I wanted to do was stay in bed. I was going to tell mother I was sick, but she goes ballistic i'I'm still home when she wakes up. As I get to my car in my driveway, a car pulls up to the curb. I hardly notice it at first, but then I see who's in the car. It's Audry. With her friends. This is not good.

"Hey, twat!" Audry yells. I ignore her and leave my back towards them. A minute later, another car turns down the street. Except it's not another car. It's the same car with Audry and her friends. As the car gets closer, I realize that they're all holding shot-guns.

This is it. They're going to kill me. I can't believe this is how it all ends. On a gorgeous spring day under an impossible blue sky. Unreal. Audry leans out the back window. She positions the gun on her shoulder. She targets me through the viewfinder. I should be running. I tell myself to run, but really what's the point? When I'm dead, I won't have to endure this relentless pain. Maybe I'll come back as a kid with a better life. Or maybe I'll pass over into that alternate universe where outsiders don't even exist.

So I stand there. Looking straight at Audry. Daring her to do it. The first impact hits me in the stomach. Someone screams. I look down at myself. There's a splatter of red on my shirt. More splatters start showing up on my arms and legs. I put my hands over my head and crouch down. I hear the car zoom by. When it sounds like the car is gone, I slowly take my hands away and look up. Shouldn't I be dead by now? Red is splattered all over me. Some of the places where I got hit really sting.

Paint balls? They shot me with paint balls? Those guns looked real. I go back to the house and change. I'm a trembling wreck. I try to swipe some paint off my arm where it stings the worst. The red paint blood smears. My key shakes when I try to put it in the lock. There's a good chance I might throw up. I try not to wake up mother as I go to my room and close the door. My shirt is ruined. I take everything off, careful not to get paint on the carpet. Mother bangs on my door.

"Just a minute," I say.

"What are you doing home?" she demands through the door.

"Can you give me a minute?" I yell. I put on a fresh shirt and put on my only shorts, since I don't have no more pants. I open the door.

"Why are you here?" mother says.

"I had to change my clothes"

"Why?" I kick my splattered jeans and shirt over to her.

"What happened?" she asks. "What's this all over your clothes?"

"I was outside about to leave to school and-" My throat closes up. I will not cry about this. Not now.

"Some kids shot paint balls at me," I manage to whisper.

"Are you okay?" Am I okay? Since when does she care if I'm okay? She even looks concerend like a real mom.

"It hurts," I say

"Go to the nurse when you get to school" I nod. She takes another look at my arms. I watch the concern in her eyes fade to disinterest.

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Everyone is their fourth class by the time I get to school. I go to my class and slog over my desk. I slide my desk closer to Ali's, but I don't ask what the activity is. I don't care about anything. I just want to go home.