Sudden change

Sorting trough stuff

POV Harry

The taxi driver stops in front of my house, I look at it with pain in my eyes, knowing my family won't be inside waiting for me.

Niall puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm here for you, mate," he whispers and I give him a nod while attempting at a small smile of gratitude.

Slowly, I step out of the car and for a moment the thought of turning around and running away crosses my mind, but I shake the thought out of my head.

I feel a hand wrap around mine and look down to see Niall's hand holding it.

He gives it a little squeeze. "Let's go Haz," he says low and starts leading me to the front door.

We walk inside and it all comes over me like a giant wave, all the memories I have in this house flash before my eyes. Like that one time, my parents surprised me with my first bike, or when Gemma and I used to make cupcakes together.

Although it looks the same, the same red furniture, the same floral wallpaper, the place has altered. I sigh. I used to love this home. Now it haunts me. It's just not a home without family.

Out of nowhere, the front door opens. I flinch and look over my shoulder to see Niall's parents standing there with empty boxes in their hands.

Maura puts the ones she was holding down on the floor and makes her way over to me and takes me in a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so glad to see that you're okay, we were so worried about you" I didn't hug her back, instead I just kept my arms down.

After a while she lets go of me. "Alright how do you wanna do this, should we do downstairs while you do the bedrooms?"

I just nod my agreement, taking a couple of boxes and making my way upstairs to my room. 

Once in my room, I decide to make a charity box, a box with things I wanna keep and a box of things I want to throw away.

It takes a while but eventually everything in my room is packed away, divided into the boxes.

I lift up one of the full boxes and carry it downstairs and put it down by the door. When looking around the room, I instantly notice that all the photo frames have been taken off the wall already.

It gives an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

The others aren't in sight but I can hear sounds from the kitchen.

Instead of checking on how they're doing, I just take a couple new boxes and go back upstairs.

I make my way over to my parents room, putting my hand on the doorknob. After standing there for a bit, trying to find the courage to open the door, I finally push it open.

I take hesitant steps inside and take in the surroundings of the room. Everything is exactly where it was, as before I left for the hospital almost a week ago.

My eyes fall on the jewelry box that is standing on the dresser. I take slow steps towards it and stop when I'm right in front of it.

With a shaky hand, I reach my hand towards the box and carefully open it, to reveal all the jewelry my parents owned.

There are many rings, watches, necklaces, bracelets and earrings inside of it.

I take a careful look at each piece individually and my eyes fall on a certain golden pendant, I pick it up, open it and immediately tears form in my eyes.

Inside the pendant was a picture of the four of us, when Gemma and I were around 4 and 6 years old.

I grab it tightly in my hand and hold it to my chest, trying to blink the tears away.

It takes me some time, but I manage to get rid of the tears and continue looking through the jewelry. Eventually, I decide to keep the necklace from mum and a silver watch from my dad and to give the rest away.

The last room I need to clear out is my sister's, which I have a feeling is going to be as hard as this one.

I take a deep breath as if to gather enough courage to go in there. I walk down the hall and am faced with the door. I draw another breath before reaching up to wrap my hand around the handle, pulling it down.

It's like a punch in the face. The smell hits my nostrils--- her smell, the abandoned atmosphere, all the band posters on the wall, the unmade bed in the corner of the square room. I almost break into a sobbing fit right then and there. The mere thought grazes me, the thought that I will never see Gemma walk around this room, giving it life.

I walk to the middle of the carpeted floor and pick up a pink Minnie Mouse t-shirt tossed across it and bring it up to my chest.

Then I pack down her stuff too, only keeping the t-shirt and the golden necklace she always wore.