Nineteen (A Larry Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty-One

*Harry's POV*

I simply sat in my dorm room, my notebook and pencil in hand as I worked on completing my poem. I've never had writers block so bad, but I suppose that when it comes down to a major assignment, I all of a sudden have it. I've never had any luck when it came to anything, and I believe that this just backs up my theory.

As I tapped my pencil against the paper in hopes of an idea sparking in my mind, my phone that sat on my bedside table began to ring. I sat my work next to me and reached for the phone. It was Darla. I quickly answered it and placed the phone to my ear, immediately hearing her sobs through the phone.

"Darla? Are you okay?"

"H-harry," she cried, her voice muffled, "I need you to come to the local police station. I'll explain..," she stopped, her crying coming out in small wails, so I finished her sentence for her.

"You can explain when I get there. I'll see you in a bit," I said and hung up the phone to call a cab. In the meantime, I got myself dressed and grabbed my phone as I headed out to the honking cab outside of the dorm hall.

Once I arrived at the station, I could see Darla's thin body balled up in the corner. I stepped out of the cab and asked the driver to wait a moment. I lightly jogged over to Darla and pulled her up into my arms.

"Get me out of here. I can't be here right now," she cried against my chest. I took no time to pull her back to the cab and I helped her inside. I told the driver to take us back to the campus. I pulled Darla against me and ran my fingers through her messy hair.

"Darla?" I said, and she tilted her head to look up at me, her tear-filled eyes staring into me as if looking for some bit of hope. "Everything's going to be okay," I tried to reassure her, but she only began to wail out, clutching her stomach as if she were in some sort of pain. She quickly calmed herself and dragged her forearm across her face to wipe her tears. She turned and spoke to me.

"Darcy killed our father and then commit suicide in her bathroom. I don't think anything is ever going to be okay," and that's all I needed to hear to know that maybe she was right. Maybe things don't always get better. She has been hoping and trying for things to get better, but it's like it just isn't meant to happen for her. Bad things after bad things keep happening to her and I honestly can't blame her for having such a negative attitude about it.

It wasn't long that we were already back in my dorm, my arms tight around her as I kissed the top of her head to comfort her. We didn't speak. We didn't need to for I knew the hell she was in right now. So, I lay our bodies together on my small, twin sized mattress and I held her close as the both of us closed our eyes and dazed off into a slumber, in hopes of dreams filled with happiness and a joy that not one person can seem to find in the cruelty of reality. I always hear controversy about hell and the devil, but what I don't think people realize is that hell is also a place called Earth and we are our own little version of Satan, only trying to cause harm to others whether we know it or not.

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First of all, I want to thank you guys for having patience with me. I needed to get through school with a passing grade and updating this was getting in the way, but now that school is over, I will be updating more frequently in order to have this book finished by December.

QOTD: How is everyone doing? I've missed you guys!

My answer: I hope everyone is doing great! I am pretty swell myself.

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-Banana