Preface: Harry's POV

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Preface: Harry's POV

I remember the day... And damn, it's hard to forget.

No matter how much I try, or anyone else tries, I cannot stop remembering. I just relive those weeks over and over in my mind. I can't stop it! I can't get it out of my head!

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Leaning forward, I rest my face in the palms of my hands. My forehead shakes, my palms sweating. I hold back my cries; tightly clamping my eyes closed and cringing so that the tears wouldn't fall free.

"Harry, are you ok?"

I look up, opening my eyes to slits, the tears escaping my bloodshot eyes. At the sight of the person in front of me, I whimper. Again, it was the mind tricks. The man sitting on the end of my bed smiled, flicking his brown hair to the side as he did. A slight stubble could be seen, making him appear so much older than I remembered him...

It was Louis Tomlinson, my best friend.

Although he seemed so real, as he reached to me and rubbed my back, telling me that everything would be ok, I knew it wouldn't be. Because Louis was dead, and really, I was alone in this white prison.

He was just a figment of my imagination...

Just like the crimson blood which poured down the walls of the padded cell around me, and the darkness which loomed under the feet of my bed. Hugging my knees closer to my chest, I drew my gaze down from Louis'. His smile was so genuine, so bright, so... Him.

"Harry, I'm real! Look at me! I'm right here you idiot!! LOOK AT ME!"

A stabbing pain shot through my chest, and I lurched forward into my legs. He wasn't real... He was dead. Louis is dead. He isn't real, I can make him go away...

He's just in my mind.

I vicously shut my eyes, biting my lip so hard in concentration that I began to taste mettalic blood as it seeped into my mouth and down my chin.

"You're a bloody mess bud..." Louis whispered softly, his tone so sad. "You're not the man I used to love..."

When I opened my eyes, he was gone. So was the blood and the darkness... Thank God! But I wasn't relieved in a way; I knew he would be back tomorrow, but not really back. He was still in there, rotting away and turning to dust.

That is the moment I relive.

The moment I saw my friends stabbed and choked and hung untill they didn't breathe and their heart stopped. I saw the life roll from them, like their dead eyes into their skulls.

I was all that was left. And where was I now? Living in a Mental Institution because I'm too unstable and traumatised to go back to the real world! That's where I was, sitting on my bed and hugging myself, surrounded by white!

This wasn't how things were supposed to end up. I never thought this would happen to me...

I'm just Harry Styles, a singer from One Direction, that guy off The X-Factor, the one with the curly hair...

But now I'm just Harry, the one that lived to tell the tale.

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