chapter fifty seven

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// I had a well-written chapter saved to edit and upload, so when I try to turn my laptop on, it doesn't work. I worked so hard for that one, but I lost the chapter (and all of the things I had in it like college works) I spent hours trying to write something similar. It's not good. Props doesn't make any sense. Pretend it's great and vote for it?//

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"You're bleeding."

Harry points out as if I didn't know already. He doesn't even call Stan to take care of it. He practically pulls me over to the bed and rips a fabric from somewhere; I'm too busy staring at my bleeding hand to look. He wraps it around it, tightly until he hears me whimper. I'm pretty sure that's not how you take care of a cut like this, but I'm too numb to say anything at all.

I walk out of the farmhouse and he follows behind. As I stand on the front porch, I notice the rain. The wind blows in our direction, bringing the raindrops to fall on us. "Oh, shit." Harry says as he holds my arm to pull me back in and I glue my feet on the ground and abruptly take my arm back.

Running down the slippery stairs from the porch, I fall on my knees into a puddle and I hear him calling my name, but I just stand up as if nothing happened and let the rain soak me up. I embrace myself and close my eyes. I only hear and smell the rain, feel it as it falls on me, and taste the raindrops from my bottom lip. I begin to cry, silently.

I let everything bottle up in my head; the things I saw, the things I felt... I can't do it anymore. I don't want to have this scar ruining my face. I don't want to see Jasper again. I don't want to see someone die in front of me again. I don't want to be covered with someone else's blood. I just want to give up.

I turn around to see Harry standing in the front porch, eyeing me carefully. The wind is blowing his long hair. The gray day makes his lips look a dark shade of purple and his eyes to darken. Is he still holding up? He's been through so much worse from being raped by his father and being abandoned by his mum, to living horrible events he didn't deserve to live, and the most importantly, becoming someone he didn't want to become. Yet he's still here, promising he will go through worse just to keep me safe again.

Does he get tired? Does he even want to continue living?

Has he ever felt like taking away his own life?

Despite the rain, he walks towards me and I hide my face behind my wet hair. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me without saying a word. Did he notice? Did he notice I'm crying? I think he knows me enough to know the difference of a tear and a raindrop.

"We can do this."

Then, it hits me. Harry is holding on because of me. I should do the same. I should suck it up, and hold on because all I want is to be with him. You need to fight for what you love and that's what he taught me.

We have each other.

We can do this.

"I think you two could use an umbrella."

Louis is under an umbrella, his clothes are stained with blood and his other hand is holding a bowie knife. I can smell the disgusting smell coming from him. I can almost touch it and die from it.

"You could die from pneumonia."

"Why are you covered in blood?" Harry asks.

He stays quiet for a brief moment.

"Thought I would answer with a joke, but since you two look you don't have time for a clown, then I'll say I just killed a pig for tonight's dinner."

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