Beneath the Midnight Sky

Four

The sound of the alarm clock buzzed heavily in Louis' ear. Groaning, he turned over and put his phone on snooze.

"Louis, get up!" Zayn demanded. "You've hit the snooze button 3 times already!" He said as he pulled the covers off of Louis' slender body.

Louis let out a groan as he turned over on his side and cuddled himself tightly to keep warm. "I think I'm just going to skip class today. I'm just so tired..." He yawned.

"I've known you for a long time. You can't fool me. You have to share your poem in class today. You're trying to avoid it!" Zayn said sitting beside of his friend.

"Harry's in there. What if he thinks I can't write?"

"This class is for you, Louis..." Zayn quickly pointed out. "If he doesn't understand your writing, then he obviously doesn't deserve to be in the same room as you." Zayn stated, reassuring his best-friend. "I don't think that'll be the case considering what you told me about yesterday....you know, your mall adventure." He teased.

Letting out a sigh, Louis knew arguing with Zayn would be pointless. He was always right.

"Well, if this is a disaster, it's going to be your shoulder I'm crying on tonight..." Louis replied as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"Already reserved for you," Zayn said as he put Louis head on his shoulder. "See? Now remember, when you share your poem, don't stutter and read it to them like you did to me." Zayn gave him friend a quick hug.

Louis quickly dressed himself in maroon skinny jeans and a grey shirt. Grabbing his bag, he hurried off to class. On his way, he could feel his pulse rising. He hadn't shared his poetry before; much less a topic he was struggling with. In fact, besides Zayn, he didn't recall sharing his writing with anyone.

********

Entering the classroom, Harry placed his journal on his desk. He could feel his anxiety worsening as he awaited for all the students to arrive. He glanced at Louis' empty seat and let out a secret grin. Even though he was apprehensive about sharing his poetry with the class, he looked forward to seeing Louis.

Sighing, Louis turned the doorknob to the classroom and quickly took his seat beside Harry. A instant smile formed on his lips.

"Hey, thanks for the ride to the mall yesterday..." Louis shyly said.

"No big deal," Harry shrugged. "I enjoyed it. Are you ready for this?" He asked as he pointed to his journal.

"I'm quite nervous," Louis said truthfully. Harry nodded in agreement as they watched Mr. Cowell walk in.

"Everyone, I need you to get in a circle please." The professor said rushed. "So the topic was to explore what is something you're struggling with....who wants to read theirs first?" He asked as the class fell silent. "Aright then, I'll choose...Harry?" He questioned as Harry sighed.

"Um..." Harry cleared his throat. "I wrote a poem I call Labels..." He trailed off as he flipped through his journal. He could feel all the eyes on him. He glanced over to Louis who gave him an reassuring nod.

Labels
Black, white. One or the other.
Right, wrong. No other way.
You have to fit everything into a category
or you feel uncomfortable.
Women are beautiful.
Their curves take my breath away.
But then I realized, I was
Falling.....
Falling...
Crashed.
For him. I fell hard.
Does that make me strange?
Do you wish I'd hang myself?
You label me bi.
I label me as loving freely.
Something you wish you could do.

Sighing in relief when he got to the end of his poem, he watched as the class judged him. The women seemed heartbroken that their chances were cut in half while the few men in the class seemed confused. Louis clapped right away.

"That was very brave...and beautiful," He said as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You write from the soul."

"Thanks," Harry said blushing.

Trying to not panic, Louis stood up. He noticed his paper was shaking within his hands and let out a heavy breath, trying to imagine being somewhere else.

"Um...." Louis said trying not to stutter. He gazed deep into Harry's eyes which let him know that no matter what happened, he was going to be okay. "My poem is called "Ana Is Trying to Kill Me."

Before reading his poem, Louis felt hot tears form in his eyes. He hadn't shared his secret with anyone, and now the entire class was going to know about it. He wasn't sure if he was crying from relief or embarrassment.

Ana Is Trying to Kill Me

I look at my life and how it's haunted
of a body that I never wanted.
I cannot stop until bones showing
A hunger inside that just keeps growing.
Never satisfied until a hundred completed,
Situps, jogging, whatever is needed.
I tried to escape this woman of beauty
but Ana told me she had a duty
To keep track of what I consume
Her voice is always in the room.
A fever broke once, I always died.
I'm still here, though half-alive.
Everyday I wake up, wishing I hadn't.
Please, someone, just stop the static.

Louis stood there, vulnerable; feeling naked and afraid. He couldn't look at anyone. He swallowed hard and the lump in his throat felt like it was increasing in size. He could feel his knees and hands shaking. He tried to sit back in his seat but he felt paralyzed and could not move. The tears still streamed freely down his face. He could see the concern on his classmates faces, but he could not stop just standing there.

Harry could not believe what he just heard. Louis was an incredible writer who shared so much of himself. He instantly knew that he was personifying anorexia and named her Ana. Suddenly, he became afraid and scared. So much made sense now. How could he care so much for someone he hardly knew?

Not wanting to let Louis sit there and cry in front of everyone, Harry carried him into the hallway; cradling him in his long arms. Louis was sobbing intensely both loud and wet. He muffled himself into Harry's chest as Harry stroked his hair. He did not care that the professor and other students were watching from the small window in the door.

"Louis...I just wanted to say...." Harry gulped. "Your poem moved me."

Wiping his tears with his arm sleeve, Louis removed his face from Harry's chest. "I'm scared." He whispered. "The static will never stop."

Harry rocked Louis back and forth. He could feel that this is something Louis had struggled with for a long time, but never properly dealt with.

"Are you going to eat lunch today?" Harry questioned. Louis shook his head in a firm no. "Did you eat yesterday? You refused my lemonade and pretzel...." He stated as Louis once again replied with a 'no.'

Harry sighed. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed and drained but tried to keep his composure. Pulling Louis back into his chest, he gently stroked the bony back.

"You think I'm crazy and psycho now...." Louis sniffled. Harry almost agreed but he bit his tongue. He knew what it was like to struggle with something that had its grip on you.

"I don't. I'm glad you shared that poem," Harry said as he helped Louis stand up. Subconsciously, he was thinking how he always seemed to leave Creative Writing early in order to help Louis. He knew he'd have to write Mr. Cowell an email later so he didn't fail out of the class. 

"Come on, you need some fresh air," He said as he tried to guide Louis to the courtyard.

Louis jerked his hand away from Harry's. He felt isolated, misunderstood, crazy, and paranoid all at once. It was becoming too much for him. Letting the tears fall freely, he looked at Harry one last time before darting off. 

"Wait!" Harry said as he chased after Louis but he knew that he wanted to be alone so he stopped. 
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Authors Note: Hey everyone :) I hope you liked my poetry. It can be strange at times. I would love suggestions for the next chapter or just random thoughts. Thanks for taking the time to read!