Summer Love (A One Direction/Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 16

My dream made absolutely no sense, which was normal for me. It was one of those dreams that I knew I would remember long after I woke up. It was a pretty strange dream though, which I wasn’t expecting—I only had strange dreams when I wasn’t sleeping well, and I was pretty sure this might’ve been the best sleep of my life.

It started in my house, where my mom and I were packing our bags and talking about school—high school, which didn’t make any sense. We were talking about my teacher, Mr. Johnson, and how he’d taught us the “nerd dance” in class, while someone filmed it and put it online.

Then, we were running on the hot sand. I recognized the beach immediately. I’d been there a handful of times in my seventeen, almost eighteen years, starting when I was six. I knew the sun was beating down on my back, and I knew it was hot, and that I was probably sweating, but I didn’t feel it. It was just the way my dreams happened to go. The waves crashed against the sand to my right—they’d always been violent at the resort my mom and I stayed at.

Suddenly, my mom was running along with me to my left, and my dad to my right. That was a little odd, since my dad had never come to Mexico with me. It only got weirder from there. I was stopped in the sand, and I turned to look at the waves, which were carrying away the bodies of many people—I could only make out five of the faces in particular. Liam, Louis, Niall, Zayn, and Harry were all being swept away, out into the distant water. Zayn looked particularly terrified.

My feet stayed in the sand as I tried to move to help them, and after a while I stopped trying. I reached out to them, and I fell to my knees, feeling helpless. I found then that I could crawl to them, and I did, all the way to the water, which pulled me in forcefully.

It brought me to them faster than I expected, and I reached out for the first boy I could find, who happened to be Liam, but right before I grasped his fingers, he was gone, nowhere to be found around me. I turned around and reached for Zayn and Niall, who were right next to each other, trying to grab one another. Before I could reach them, they both vanished under the water. I plunged my head under, opening my eyes in the salty water, but I couldn’t see them. I saw a flash of white, and I looked harder into the water, only to see Louis being carried off by what appeared to be a dolphin…or a shark.

I yearned for air, even though I knew I was breathing. My head came back up and I looked around frantically for any of the boys, swimming farther and farther out. Harry had all but slipped my mind until I saw him swimming only a few feet in front of me. I kicked against the current, and the once blue and beautiful water had turned black and treacherous. I was almost there when I tried to speak.

“Harry!” I called, trying to stay afloat. I swallowed the foul tasting water, but I kept swimming to him, this time with more unwavering than I had been with the other boys, because Harry actually looked like he could see me.

He reached out to me, and all I wanted was to throw myself into his arms, and make sure he was safe, and that I was safe. My mood changed in the dream, and I felt as though I was no longer saving Harry—he was saving me. I broke my doggy paddle to turn around, and I saw fins following me everywhere. I looked up at the sky to see it grey and solemn, with lightning flashing everywhere while collective booms rang through my ears. The shore looked dead and lonely, and so far away. The waters became even darker, and more brutal and vicious.

I resumed swimming to Harry, this time with a stroke that actually made sense. Harry was on a boat now, a small white one, and the rest of the boys sat wet and drenched behind him.

“Hurry up! Make your choice!” he yelled at me, and I reached the edge of the boat, confused.

“What choice?”

Harry held his hand out to me, but I found that I didn’t take it. Why wouldn’t I? I should’ve, otherwise I’d be devoured by the sharks following me. Turning around, I saw that the gray fins were growing ever closer, and a shudder ran through me—I detested sharks.

“Come with me,” Harry said, and I turned to face him. His eyebrows were together, his forehead wrinkled. His eyes didn’t seem as green, more with a grey and dark look to them. They reminded me of water—but that was because his eyes were brimming with tears. His mouth was in a thin, worried line, and I could see that his lips trembled slightly. The hand that reached for me shook as well.

My hand reached up to take his uncertainly, and he brought me up onto the boat, hugging me and holding me. I shivered in his embrace.

“Harry, why?” I asked him, not sure what I was saying. Why would I need to choose to come with him?

He brought me away from him to look me in the eyes. The same look was still on his face. “Why won’t you come with me?”

“What? I don’t understand, Harry. I’ll go anywhere with you. I’m with you right now.”

He shook his head. “Why didn’t you want to come?”

“I’m with you right now, Harry! Stop it! I’m right here!” I yelled, becoming frustrated with this dream. I threw my arms up and brought them down by my side, only to find that Harry and I were treading in the water again. I stared at my hands that had splashed the water, confused.

“Did I bring you in here, Harry?”

He just looked at me with that sad look on his face, a tear falling down his cheek. “I’ll always wait for you, when you decide to come.” He started swimming away into the dark ocean, which swallowed him up immediately. The last thing I saw was a piece of his wet black hair before he seemed gone forever.

“Harry,” I called, trying to swim after him. “I can’t…Harry, I can’t come!” I realized, looking down at myself. I wasn’t moving at all, I just thought I was. I kicked, yelled, cried, and nothing happened. A broken feeling began building in my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. Behind me, I knew the sharks were coming. It was just a sense. I felt my hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and right before the razor sharp teeth closed around my neck, I woke up.

“Harry!” I gasped.

My eyes adjusted to the dark room, and I recognized the wallpaper in front of my eyes. Everything was silent for a few moments, but then I heard Anna sigh and turn over in bed. Without looking, I could tell my mom was in the space next to me. I held on to Harry tighter—but no, what was I thinking? In Harry’s place was the cold, soft pillow in my arms. I buried my face into it and squeezed my eyes shut.

It was just a nightmare. A nightmare and nothing more—it didn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything. I felt a tear fall onto my pillow, and silent sobs shook my body. I rubbed my face—my glasses must’ve been put on the nightstand, because I couldn’t see anything—and I reminded myself that I was crying only because I’d been eaten by sharks.

Once my nose was puffy enough that I could no longer breath through it, I stopped and remembered that I had to run tomorrow morning. I took a shaky breath and calmed down enough to stare at the wallpaper for a while. “A while” felt like an hour, but it was probably only fifteen minutes or so. I felt a course of emotions running through me, like fear, and a sense of abandonment, but eventually I drifted off again into a light, troubled sleep.