Beneath the Midnight Sky

Nineteen

Trigger Warning ⚠️ Self-Harm and Eating Disorders

First Week In Recovery Center

Dear Ana,

I am writing you because I don't have anyone else to talk to while I'm in here. They said I cannot have any contact with family/friends yet because I need to focus on myself for awhile. Besides, "dear journal" seems so lame. So here, I am....talking to you, again. Mostly because I'm bored.

My intake weight was 110 lbs, height 5'8; that made my body mass index 16.7. The nurse kept staring at me after taking my weight, don't know why.

I can't believe I am here in England, miles away from home and the people I love. It doesn't seem fair.

This won't be a surprise to you, Ana, because you're the one who told me to do it in the first place but I've purged almost every meal at dinner since I got here. The graveyard shift workers don't supervise as much. Yay me.

I wonder what Harry is doing right now. I know he doesn't miss me. I thought for sure he would tell me he loved me when he dropped me off at the airport but he didn't. Of course, who can blame him? I know I'll never good enough for him. Maybe I should be the one to say it to him (so he'll know, even if he doesn't choose to stay.) I do love him, I love him so. Sorry you're jealous, Ana.

It's me and you, you and me.

It's time for lights out.

Maybe next week they'll move me from the medical wing to the one with more freedoms

Until next time,

Lou

P.S The atrophy on my hip is starting to itch. It's a constant reminder of my green eyed savior. I hope he's doing okay.

__________________________

The aroma of alcohol and stale cigarettes filled the tiny apartment without remorse. The odor was so strong, it made Harry have a tickle in his throat.

While his peers danced around merrily, he sat laying horizontal on the couch and dared anyone to ask him to get up. Ed offered him many shots but he always declined, not feeling like doing anything except laying there paralyzed.

The music blared in his ears but somehow, it was mute.

He played with the frayed string hanging off the distressed skinny jeans trying to find comfort tacitly; but it was to no avail.

Niall tried to comfort him countless times, his go to way was carelessly fall on his abdomen and sit for awhile making small talk. When Harry wouldn't respond, he'd shrug and repeat the cycle every hour or so.

Liam would periodically walk by and shake his head but not say anything. He understood that sometimes just need time. Zayn would do the same because he knew if he were to talk about it, he'd break down as well.

It wasn't until some drunken soul clumsily tripped and spilled their drink all over him that he decided to go outside, taking a nearby comforter with him.

"Should have done that a long time ago," some guy laughed as he took a girl on the couch.

"Bloody hell," Harry mumbled under his breath in response as he walked out on the balcony.

The crisp, cool air wrapped around his skin sending shivers down his spine. He wrapped the blanket around himself and snuggled his knees into his chest, creating a cocoon around his body.

He created small circles on the patio table with his index finger. He hasn't been high off mania since about 4 days ago, and the cycle of crippling depression felt more intense this time.

Tugging the blanket tighter, he knocked over the ashtray sitting in the floor next to the chair.

"Damnit!" He said as he bent down to clean up his mess. That's when he noticed it: the cigarette lighter smiling at him. "Hmm," he hummed softly biting the inside of his cheek.

Discretely, he rolled up and cuffed his right jeans leg to expose his calf. He flicked the lighter and watched the flame dance in the wind. He quickly placed it on his calf as long as he could before pulling away and dropping it to the ground.

The stinging sensation washed away his thoughts. He decided it was a small victory.

"If I have to go away from 90 days and seek help, you have to get help too, Harry. You said you're unmedicated and you just used a razor to...." Louis voice echoed in his head.

Harry was never good at keeping promises. He was narcissistic, impulsive, and unstable. Though he'd give you the shirt off his back, he would never compromise what he wanted to do in order to please someone else.

He didn't give a fuck about what anyone thought. He would be a fashion icon if he so chose and would bring whoever the fuck he wanted back to his dorm rather it be male or female. He would try out for every single audition the music program had to offer and he didn't get the spot, fuck it, there's always next time. He would protect his friends as if it was his purpose in life and hold his family as a priority. Harry knew exactly who he was because he fought hard to be sane after adolescence.

But something about those blue eyes haunted him. He felt under a spell. He lost control the moment he walked into that classroom. He became a prisoner the moment he walked up those stairs in this very apartment and kissed the lips that intoxicated him. He became doomed the moment he heard the angelic voice singing "Wonderwall".

Pulling at his curls, he sniffled from the brisk air. He traced the outline of the new burn, rubbing it harshly. Well it's not like you promised him you would stop. He reasoned with himself. But you can always try again tomorrow.

Feeling defeated and coming to the grim reality he couldn't do this on his own, he retrieved his phone.

Ring...ring....ring

"Hello?"

He sniffled in the phone.

"Harry?"

.......

"What's wrong, baby? You crying?"

"Mom, I want to come home. I need your help."

"My door is always open for you. You in trouble?"

"No, no. Just having a hard time."

"Whatever you need, baby. If you don't feel like driving, I'll send Gemma, ok?"

He bit his lip.

"I'll come next weekend, Mom. Love you." He quickly hung up the phone.

Dragging the blanket behind him, he walked back into the musky apartment. He made his way toward Niall and stood in front of him. The tears instantaneously began to fall like puddles from the sky.

Though intoxicated, Niall wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him close. Liam followed shortly after, and Zayn followed suit.

There was no need for words to be exchanged. Each had their own reasons for needing comfort.

Stunned, Ed rested his chin on Harry's shoulder, joining in.

"What did I miss?" He asked confused, trying to provide comedic relief. "Where's little LouLou?"

Niall pinched his side and invited him into the group hug.

"Going to be a long night, eh?" Ed slurred his words trying to figure out why 4 grown men were crying in his living room.

Authors Note: Not sure if I should narrate Louis time in rehab or keep it journal entires. Hope you still enjoy the story. What do you think Harry's going to do?