Following Anarchy (A One Direction horror fiction)

Following Anarchy - Chapter 3

The day was impossibly bright and sunny, not only for Bristol, but also for what had happened the night before; there was no way the weather could be reflecting the events of the previous night. At least, Kathryn didn’t believe that to be the case as she walked down Coronation Road.

Well, honestly, it was nearly a run, but she didn’t care how ridiculous she could have looked. The only thing that mattered was getting to her best friend’s apartment and making sure she and her friend’s little brother were alright. She had known the name that had been said so many times on the news reports earlier that morning, but she was still hoping that it was some kind of coincidence, that it was someone else with the exact same name. Of course, in the pit of her stomach, she continued to tell herself that Bristol wasn’t that big and that a coincidence like that would be rare, if not entirely miraculous.

She finally reached the neat little apartment houses that lined the road on her right side, the first one belonging to someone she had known since they had both attended primary school. She didn’t hesitate the push the garden gate aside, and she hurried up the short walk before reaching the door and knocking, though she tried not to seem too panicked as she did so. She knew that she would probably have to be the calming, steady force in this situation.

Only a minute or so passed before she saw her friend’s face in the window, and as soon as the door was opened, Kathryn was inside, a flurry of brunette hair and casual clothes.

“Sophie, I rushed over as soon as I heard the news,” she said, only slightly out of breath from the brisk walk. Her flat at Chalcroft House was a bit of a way, but it hadn’t mattered to her, of course. After all, she had made the walk several times before, and this time was the most important of them.

The two girls embraced each other in a hug before Sophie pulled away and Kathryn was able to see her face, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, her face stained with tears that had stopped falling quite some time before. She had known that her friend would be upset, but she had no way of knowing about all of the complications of the incident.

“Kat, you should, ah, know something,” Sophie said, her voice trembling. Without another word, she grabbed her friend’s hand and led her to the door to one of the bedrooms before pushing it open nearly silently.

It was Harry’s bedroom, Kathryn knew; she had only been inside it a few times before, but she remembered what it looked like. Not heavily furnished, though there were plenty of posters and other things on the walls, along with several pictures of Harry and Louis together, grinning at a camera in different spots in Bristol. But there was one thing about the room that was different from how it had always been in the past: Harry, lying on the bed, completely still and silent as if he was simply a statue of himself.

“Soph, what- I mean, is he- is he okay?” Kathryn asked, concerned about the boy who normally talked your ears off if you allowed him to do so.

“What? Oh, um, well, you see, I’m not too sure,” Sophie replied, shifting around on her feet uncomfortably. “Zayn told me that the paramedics claimed he would be alright after a bit of time, but, I just don’t know. I want to believe what they say, but I, uh, don’t know if I can.” Her voice had grown noticeably softer as she had spoken, until her voice was hardly a whisper through the last few words.

Kathryn looked again to the bed, Harry’s gaze still trained on the ceiling, almost as if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. She had never seen him, or anyone else, in such a state, to be so withdrawn and disconnected from one’s surroundings as he obviously was. That, or he simply didn’t care, though she doubted that the latter was actually true.

Sleeping was out of the question; he had done enough of that during the early hours of the morning, though he couldn’t say that it had been particularly peaceful. Josh, with one hand grasping a mug of tea and his chin resting on the other as he leaned against the kitchen counter, stared across the small, modest flat, wondering what he could possibly due to occupy his mind. After all, there was no way he was going to allow it to just wander, considering that he knew exactly where it would go if he did.