Chapter 4

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Harry's P.O.V

I don't know what is so different about Isibella. When I first saw her, I couldn't help the smile on my face. That's never happened before. Then she stuck up for herself. That was really hot. But she's just a bitch like the rest of them.

Well maybe she's not. She never asks where I go, or what I'm doing. She never texts me or calls me to find out why I haven't contacted her all day. I don't even think she cares. I don't even think she likes me. And I definitely don't like her, so I don't even know why I'm thinking about this.

Okay, well, maybe I'm kind of attracted to her, kind of. I mean she's beautiful, and she has a nice body. The way her brown eye capture you and you could get lost in them all day. She's never actually held eye contact with me, yet, I haven't made an effort either.

I'm not good for her and I know it. I've never actually been in a relationship, partly because I've never been the 'good' type of boyfriend, but mostly because no girl I've been with has been worthy of actually trying to have a relationship with. I don't like relationships and you have to be pretty damn stupid to put up with my shit.

Izzy can barely put up with me as it is now and I've talked to her like three times. I don't know why I got her number from Derek but I did. I wonder if she randomly thinks about me like I seem to do every once in a while with her. I really don't care if she does but it's just a thought. She's just another girl, so I don't even know why I'm thinking about this.

Izzy's P.O.V.

I wake up and look around. I'm not in my room anymore. I'm walking home from school and it feels like I'm watching myself, not being myself. I casually follow myself and end up in front of my house. I slowly walk up to the door, seeing it wide open and I take a deep breath. I walk in and there's little puddles of blood on the floor.

Now it feels like I am myself as I look at the trail of blood up the stairs. My feet act before my brain and takes me slowly up each step. My tears sting my face as the trail leads into my parents room. I peek in the door and see nothing. I walk a little into the room and see my mom with a knife in her chest. I run over and scream to her, holding her hand.

"MOM, No you can't be gone. Mom you have to wake up. Mommy please wake up!" I cry. I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders and shake me.

"No! Mom! Help me." I cry.

"Izzy, Izzy. Wake up!" My dad's voice calls. The image goes black, but I don't wake up. I stop struggling and feel hands rub my upper arms.

I soon go back into a deep sleep.

***

I wake up to the sound of the doorbell. I look at the time and it's 10 in the morning. Last night was so surreal, but I don't remember waking up. I try to get up, but I'm far too weak. I take a deep breath and slowly sit up. My head hurts and I feel really sick. Before I know it, I'm laying back down and my breathing is heavy. I feel myself sweat and wipe my forehead.

"Izzy," My dad knocks and comes in. "There are people here to see you." He says.

"Don't let them in. I don't wanna see anybody. Will you get me a cool rag and some pain medication with some water?" I ask. He nods and leaves. My phone rings and I grab it. It's Harry, again. I sigh and hit ignore. I really don't want to talk to anybody.

Soon after my dad comes back with what I asked for and sets it on my table.

"Hey dad." I say, he turns around.

"Yeah. Sweetie?" He asks

"I had another nightmare last night." I say softly.

"I know." He says and looks down.

"Oh..." I trail off.

"You never wake up. I'll shake you and you seem to just go back into a deeper sleep." He says. I knew I didn't wake up.

"All I remember is finding her, and then getting shaken, and being told to wake up. But the image fades and my eyes feel to heavy to open. I try, but I just fall into a deeper sleep. It happens every time." I explain.

"They'll go away eventually." He assures me. I nod and he leaves.

I take off my hoodie and unwrap my arms. My cuts have finally turned into scabs and they hurt a little, but I'm almost too numb to feel the pain. I run my finger over all my cuts and scars and I take a deep breath. I remember that every single cut has been because I was thinking of my mom. I don't want to believe that it's for her, but I only cut when I feel the pain of losing her again. I throw away the bandages and put my hoodie back on. I take the medicine and put the rag on my head.

I picture my mom laying down with me, rubbing my back and humming in my ear. I whisper 'I love you' to her and she kisses my cheek before getting up and leaving, whispering it back. That was kind of our thing. Whispering I love you to each other. It was our little secret and no one could say anything about it.

I feel so lost with out her. As long as I listened to her, everything would be okay. She would tell me what to do and how to solve something. I didn't need anybody else when I had her. I still don't need anybody else. I don't need my dad to tell me it will get better. And I don't need my brother to hold me and tell me he knows how it feels.

No one knows how it feels. To be so used to something, that you just depend on it. Then, once its gone, you feel everything fall apart around you. The day I found her, is the day that will always haunt me. Why would anyone want to hurt her? You know. She was such a good person, to everybody. No body ever said anything bad about her and I kind of miss hearing how good of a person she is. Now it's all how she was. how she used to be. How I resemble her. That's bullshit. No one knows how it feels to be compared to my no longer here mom.

My phone buzzes again but I just let it go to voicemail. I don't even bother seeing who it is or why. I don't care. I don't need to hear it. I don't want to hear. All I want is my mom. All I need is my mom. A couple minutes pass by and I feel my door open. I don't look up or turn around. I really don't care who it is anyways.

"Izzy." A strong British accent calls my name. Harry. I don't answer, I just ignore him and close my eyes. I'm not facing him, so he can't tell I'm crying. "Why aren't you answering my calls?" He asks softly.

"Because not everything revolves around you." I say. I'm irritated and annoyed, but I keep my eyes closed, still picturing my mom.

"I just came to check up on you." He says.

"I thought you didn't care." I snap.

"Okay, I kind of care." He admits.

"No you don't. You're only saying that in hopes that I turn around and look at you so you can be a dick and leave again. Well guess what. I'm not turning around, and I'm not moving from this spot, so you can leave now." I say to him and feel tears fall down my cheek again.

"That's not true. I didn't want to admit it, not even to myself. But I do care about what happens to you, Isibella." He almost whispers.

"Just go." I sigh.

 "Why are you crying?" He asks.

"Because I can. Why are you still here?" I ask annoyed.

"Here we go again, you being a-" He stops as soon as I turn around and look at him. "I didn't mean that." He defends.

"Get the fuck out, now. Don't call me, don't talk to me at school. If you're hanging out with my brother, don't come see if I'm okay. I want nothing to do with you, and since all I am is a bitch to you, I'm pretty sure you don't want anything to do with me either." I turn back around and hug my blanket tighter than I was a couple moments ago.

"Fine." Is all he says. It wasn't like the other times he said that word. He didn't sound angry or offended. He didn't yell it or raise his voice. He just said it, as soft as I've heard him talk and then he left. It was almost like he was hurt. Could someone like him really be hurt?

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A/N- I hope you liked it. Let me know what you thinks. Two votes for next chapter! Thanks.

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