Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"You're making me sick love..." ♫ Love by Daughter.
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Bella died peacefully in her sleep a week ago on June 13th - and when I woke up that morning, I was haunted by the sight of Harlow holding his only daughter, lifeless in his arms.
He was still singing her the lullaby she dreamt to.
She was still wearing her fairy wings.
And she was still clutching his shirt, holding him back just as tight as he was holding her.
It was the definition of heartbreaking.
I woke up Niko and we called 911.
They showed up and I had to beg him to let her go so that they could take care of her the right way, and bring her to the hospital. But, he kept begging her to wake up, begging them to bring her back, and screaming at them to get away all at the same time; leaping into the first stage of grief; Denial.
When he finally let go, he latched onto me, and he held on for three days straight.
He wouldn't eat, would barely sleep, and wouldn't speak a word to me, or to anyone.
He was a zombie, pain and guilt rotting away his insides.
He catapulted over two stages to stage four; Depression.
It wasn't as if I didn't want him to be or I wasn't expecting him to be. But, I wasn't expecting it to be so bad, given how well he seemed to be handling the situation. He was coasting. The whole day she was home, he was laughing, smiling, and fighting back every tear because he felt like he was making the right decision - and he was.
Then, Cosette fucked it all up with her stupid words.
The morning after she left that night, we called her and told her that Bella had passed, and she showed up to the hospital, screaming, once again. Telling Harlow he was a shitty father, that it was all his fault, that he was useless, spineless, weak, pathetic, worthless.
That it should've been him.
She hit him. Over, and over, and over.
And he just stood there. He took it.
I tried to stop her but I couldn't, Niko couldn't, no one but security could.
She was dragged out and we didn't see her again. She was probably forced to wait until we left the room. We stayed at the hospital for two hours and once Harlow had cried out all of his tears, went home.
After those three days glued to my side, he backpedaled into Anger, and there, he parked his ass for good.
Old Harlow was making a comeback.
The one who could barely tolerate me, barely tolerate himself, and never, not fucking once, smiled.
