If Harry Died // Harry Styles H.S. (Alternate ending to "Cross My Heart")

Ch. 3: Back Home Without Harry

The way home from the hospital was just one "way to kill myself" after another. All I could see was possibilities, wherever I looked. I could get out of the car and fall into the street, and get run over. Hopefully on my head, so it would be a quick death. I could take the wheel and swerve into the path of an oncoming truck...but I wouldn't do THAT one, because my mum and Louis were in the car. Dammit. And I needed to make sure it'd be something that I couldn't fail at this time. I'd tried to die before, and it didn't work out for me, so...I had to make sure it was foolproof this time.

I thought back to when I tried to die. If I had succeeded in getting them to kill me in that place, I wouldn't be here right now. I would never have seen Harry again, and I would have never have fallen in love with him. Never have had to watch him die, and never have started going through the worst pain imaginable on the face of the Earth. Living without him.

If only I'd never met Harry...........

No matter how wonderful my time with him was, it was over. And living without him would outweigh every perfect, wonderful moment I'd ever spent with him.

I'd only had a few short months in paradise on Earth, with him.

The rest of my life could be a LONNNNNNNNNNNG fvcking time.

Who could deal with that for that long? Not me.

We got back to the flat, and I lifted my head off the glass of the back seat window and looked around.

Harry's car was back in its spot. Who did that? It had been at the shop for service when we got kidnapped....

Upon seeing his car, sitting there, waiting for him, and he'd never get in and drive it again....I lost it. I didn't even make it to the flat yet, and it was too hard. It was all too much.

How the HELL was I supposed to go into Harry's home, filled with his stuff, everything he cared about in life, everything that was....him.......and just....live here without him?

What was I supposed to do with it all? I mean.......really?

His favorite guitar. What to do with that? His vinyl records. His music awards. His clothes...some that might still smell like him. I don't know. There was probably dirty laundry that hadn't been done yet, right? What was I supposed to do with all his clothes? What do people do in this situation?

I could wear the tees and hoodies. Even the boxers.........not that I'd have much time for that, because I'd be dead soon. Someone would make a mistake and leave me alone long enough to get my hands on a weapon, and I'd use it asap and be done. Sweet, sweet relief awaited me, and I couldn't WAIT for it. But for now, until that happened, I'd have to deal with Harry's stuff. I guessed I'd just leave everything where it was, and take it from there.

My mum and Lou practically had to carry me, one person on each side, into the flat. I felt bad, because I knew this wasn't at all easy for Lou, either. But...I didn't have the energy to fvcking care, to be honest. I just didn't.

You want me inside his flat? Then carry me. I don't care. Leave me here on the sidewalk in a lifeless heap of waste. I don't care. Feed me to lions at the nearest zoo. I don't care.

If I cared that little about my own welfare, there was no WAY I could care about anyone else's. Sorry. But I could barely will myself to breathe, let alone care about someone else's grief.

They literally dragged me into the flat door as I sobbed hard. I couldn't even see anything between the oceans of tears that were falling now.

They laid me on the sofa, and I heard the door close as my first pitiful, pathetic, heartbroken wail started.