Carolina [h.s]

twenty nine

Within ten minutes Juliet dozes off but I'm wide awake.

I've kept myself elsewhere these past few days. Trying to comfort Li in her boyfriend's absence and push any thoughts and troubles of my own away.

But I couldn't help it now as my mind races and everything that happened in Dallas washes over me.

I remembered the state Harry was in at the hotel. How every breath of pain and suffering was familiar. I knew I couldn't deal with it for long, I knew that after a while it would just keep getting worse.

My mind switches and different memories bring up bad thoughts. Images of red hair sprawled out on cold tiled floors. Purple-blue ice cold skin, and the lifeless look I saw in those gray eyes that I will never forget.

I suddenly couldn't breathe. I kick my legs, pushing all of my blankets away standing up on my feet and leave the comfort of our tent. I'm pacing on the wood floors of the living room, scratching at my skin and pulling at my hair.

Thoughts took over and I never learned how to deal with control. So when my heart starts to beat faster, I can't manage the image of the lifeless boy on a random hotel floor as it raids my mind.

"It's my fault," I start to mumble and I'm crying without realizing it. "Stop crying," I tell myself but it's not in my head. I'm mumbling it over and over.

"It's my fault," I say again. It's like I'm looking outside of my body realizing what I'm doing. But I can't do anything to stop it.

My mind keeps racing, my heart keeps pounding and my hair keeps pulling. I'm sweating and my body is too warm. I breathe in and out. In and out. My face tingles. My jaw hurts. My stomach turns and my entire body feels weak.

I walked to the kitchen and over to the sink, leaning over to gulp down water straight from the faucet. I rinse off my forehead and press wet hands against warm cheeks. I remind myself how to breathe: easy, steady, and normal. Water drips from my face, and I look to the clock; it's only two in the morning.

And just when I've calmed myself down only a fraction; the phone rings from across the kitchen.

I'm stuck in my own trace as I stare at it as it rings four times, and then I realize how loud it is. I gather myself and walk over across the cold tiled floor and take it off the hook before it can ring again.

I've woken up to this phone ringing every night for the past four days. Only once it's been Zayn looking for Juliet. But every other time it's been Harry.

Every time he would ask me the same questions because he didn't remember the last time we talked. 'Why did you leave?' and 'Where the fuck are you?'

I place the phone to my ear as I sit down on the kitchen floor, whispering "Harry," into the receiver.

My heart doesn't slow as he says "Hey, strawberry," Like nothing ever changed.

I closed my tear drained eyes and lay my head between my knees. "Where are you?" I asked him first this time, like I wasn't just imagining him unconscious and lifeless somewhere.

"I think we're coming home," He never knows. "I thought you were with me this whole time, I've been looking for you." He kind of almost laughs, and I guess it's kind of a relief.