E m m a
My senses begin to waken as I drift in and out of sleep. I get tired a lot now, which is an incredible difference from what I was a week ago.
I hate being imprisoned in this clinic. It's too bright, and people are too happy here; how can they be happy at a time like this? When they know what I've done.
Harry has been coming twice every day to visit me. I honestly don't deserve him, he's too kind to me; I love him so much and my heart aches whenever I see that sad look on his face. The one I caused.
However, he seems to make me better. Harry brings out the best in me and he has the capability to make me smile when no-one else can. Harry is all I need, I don't want to be here, I just want to be at home with him; comfy and relaxed in my own home, that's all I want.
I haven't been taking my medication, for a number of reasons. One being I don't deserve to make this easier on myself, I deserve all of this pain that courses through my body during every waking moment of the day.
A few rustles catch my attention from inside my room, I presume that Harry has arrived and he's just keeping himself busy as usual, quietly pottering around the room as I sleep; or should I say pretend to sleep. I like listening to him, it soothes me to know that he's here by my side. I truly don't deserve someone as wonderful and caring as Harry, but I have him, and I'm so grateful.
Now fully awake, my eyelids remain closed as my senses pick up every sound that echoes within the room. Harry grunts occasionally making me wonder what he's actually up to, he seems to be constantly rushing and collecting things together, though I'm unaware of his reason why.
I finally decide to answer my constant questions and begin to slowly flutter my eyes open, the delicate orbs adjusting to the new light of the clinically white room as my husband rushes around frantically to collect my belongings.
He places everything into a pile where my bags are on the floor, an outfit draped neatly over my covered legs for when I eventually woke up. I furrow my eyebrows at the new arrangement, I don't quite understand what's going on.
"Harry?" I mumble, him placing the last few items into my bag before standing up and facing me properly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you home baby," his eyes sparkle and his smile erupts, I don't think he truly believes his own words yet, I know I don't.
"What?" My voice wavers in disbelief.
"You're coming home, with me." He smiles even wider, the butterflies in my stomach erupting at the sight. His dimples becoming concave's in each cheek, and his large warm hands reaching up to my face to wipe the tears I didn't know had fallen. "But you have to do everything I tell you, okay? Whether it's taking your medicine, or going to your therapy sessions, you do everything I tell you."
"Okay, I will. I promise." My arms wrap around his neck in a desperate hug. This is all I wanted, just me and Harry back at home as we should be, "I'll do anything Harry, just take me home."
"Let's get you changed." He motions me out of the bed; my frail legs are as thin as the tip of a pin and barely hold the weight of my lifeless body, but Harry stays by my side to take the weight. His hands slide the shirt over my head and down my withering body, the black leggings flow freely up my legs as he pulls them carefully; I slot my feet into some dolly shoes, and wrap my arm around Harry's shoulder as he helps me walk out of the intimidatingly clean building.
"What do you want to eat when we get home?" He asks, shielding me from the many flashes as we pace through the paps and towards Harry's Range Rover. He sets me in the car with nothing but ease, fastening my seatbelt for me as my gaunt expression waits for him to walk around the other side.
