I buttoned up Harry's flannel over my body and tugged on the leggings Harry claimed belonged to his older sister, Gemma. He said she had accidentally left them during her last visit a few months ago and he'd never had the chance to return them. It was sweet of Harry to pack a bag for me. It was filled with essentials, most of which I figured he'd bought once I found the box of tampons. I had blushed and quickly thrown them back in the bag.
Once I was dressed and my wet hair was braided to the side I ventured downstairs to find all of the boys standing in the living room near the front door. Louis caught my eye and gave me a warm smile as I entered.
"Alice! We were just talking about you!" he called before pulling a ridiculous face. Harry rolled his eyes at Louis before catching my hand and pulling me toward him. "Ready to go?"
I took a deep breath and nodded, but inside I was screaming at myself that this was a horrible idea. How could I possibly take Harry to visit my mother when she was six feet under?
I hadn't expected Harry to insist that we go today. In fact, I couldn't fully understand it. He was dead set on my protection, but then he wanted to go and meet my mum the day after Zayn and I saved him from something that could have gone horribly wrong if not for our appearance. I didn't question him though.
Harry helped me into his Range Rover after a quick word with the boys alone and then we were headed back towards Bradford. I wasn't sure how to go about this. I knew once we entered town, Harry would want directions on where to go, but I couldn't quite figure out where I was directing him.
I could only think of one way to go about this in which I might be able to evade the topic of my mother's death. It would involve lying though, and that wasn't something I was particularly fond of, especially with Harry. His words still rang clear in my mind.
What's the point in lying?
He looked at me expectantly after about a mile into town.
"Turn right," I mumbled, suddenly feeling cold and empty. He frowned but did as I instructed.
"Where are we going?" he asked after a moment.
"My mum's house," I replied. "She... should be home."
I quietly directed him through the busy morning streets of Bradford until we were turning into a neighborhood.
I couldn't help but look back at the cemetery that sat just around the corner from my old home. It was one of the reasons I refused to go back, but there was also the sadness of seeing all of my mother's old stuff in it's previous places.
The house had never been sold. I wasn't sure what happened with it, really, but I knew it was abandoned, all of the furniture inside slowly withering away.
"There," I whispered, pointing out the little house. It seemed as if this whole street had become abandoned after my mother's death. It was a place frozen in time.
Harry pulled up on the side of the road and waited patiently as I stared out the window at the house. The pale walls and the dark roof looked just the same as before, but the grass was dead, the flowers withered. It had an air of abandonment... an air of sadness. "Let's go," I said weakly.
Harry remained mute as I slowly led him up to the front door. I had barely placed my hand on the old wood when it creaked open at my touch. I didn't look at Harry as I pushed it open farther and walked inside. He trailed behind me.
It was the same as before, but the color and life had faded away from everything and it was obvious that someone had been in here based on the odd sheets covering the couches and chairs and the white paint that now covered every picture frame.
