Chapter Eleven - Insomniac's Secrets

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Harry.

The funeral was probably one of the worst and hardest things I have ever had to do. A few of Mica's friends came, some of her fathers friends and workers, and us. It wasn't big, and it broke my heart. I had to hold Louis' hand the entire time so I didn't break down. The boys and I also had the job of carrying her coffin in and lowering it to the ground. They didn't dig it over because it was simply too hot to do so.

It was a nice day; too nice for there to be a funeral going on. I had wished the sky did a clichè and rained, and the clouds grayed over the beautiful sky. But no, the sun was shining and I was roasting my ass off in my suit. 

We didn't get drunk afterwards like most people would. We went home and sat around, not talking or eating. Just moping around at her house, where we'd be staying for the next few weeks to work out a few things.

We literally did nothing the entire day, only moped around shirtless in our shorts as we roasted. I went to bed at ten p.m, being too upset to stay awake any longer.

I slept in Mica's bed that night. It took me five minutes to open her bedroom door and another five minutes to actually walk in, but I did it. And I climbed into her bed and slept there, dreaming of her that night. I smelled her pillow, and how it smelled of her shampoo, and I smelled her bed sheets, and how they smelled of her perfume.

And I never wanted to smell those things again.

I hadn't slept well at all that night, I kept waking up, panting. Memories of her kept drowning me. So I ended up waking up at seven a.m. and staying awake, deciding that falling back asleep wasn't an option; even if it was, I couldn't deal with the thoughts of Mica.

I rolled out of her bed--literally--falling to the ground with a bang. Groaning, I decided not to move. I turned my head, looking under Mica's bed, eyeing the things that hid underneath, but under there was nothing but a box. I bit my lip, reaching under and pulling it out.

I sat up, leaning back against her bed and putting the box on my lap. I took three deep breaths before opening it, afraid of what I was going to find.

And I rightfully should have been.

It contained a jar of pills, razor blades, booze, and a gun. I'm sure my eyes have never went so wide. I didn't know what to take out first.

I ended up choosing the small jar of pills, taking them out first and examining them. They were sleeping pills, and, apparently, she had gotten them in April. They were almost all gone.

"Louis!" I screamed as loud as I could. I heard a bang, and then a whine, before Louis stumbled in a minute later.

"Harry Styles, it is seven in the morning, what could you possibly wan- what is that?" he asked, cutting himself off. I gestured for him to come closer, which he did. Louis sat beside me, staring with wide eyes. "What the fuck is all of this, Harry?"

"I found them under her bed, look at these pills." I held up the pills for him to see.

"Sleeping pills?" he asked, turning to me with a questioning look. 

"Yes. Apparently they were prescribed at the start of April. And they're almost all gone, Lou," I told him. He didn't seem to be catching on.

"Where are you going with all of this, Harry?" he asked, staring at me. I sighed.

"Sleeping pills, Louis. She could only get sleeping pills if she was an insomniac," I told him. He bit his lip, looking at me again.

"You don't have enough proof to guess that," he said, tilting his head. I smirked and nodded.

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