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'it's hard to sleep at night, knowing what's outside, feeling hopeless, i need focus.'

( youth - shawn mendes + khalid )

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I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts eliminating any fulfillments of sleep. I didn't know how long I'd been laying there, but sleep simply wouldn't come.

Caleb Shaw - I never met him; never knew him - but the look in Harry's eyes when he told me about him told me enough. How had I never heard about this before? Harry told me this had happened the year before I moved to Seattle, but how did I not know? My best friends had acted so maliciously; had led somebody to kill themselves. That was sick, and I couldn't get my head around that.

My best friends, whom I knew and loved - weren't my best friends at all.

If this was bothering me so much - how must Harry have felt? I knew it must've broken him - not that he'd ever admit that. His best friend, was taken from him by mine. They drove his best friend into a place where he felt suicide was his only way out - that was awful just to think of, let alone live through.

How was I supposed to go into school tomorrow and call them my friends? What - I'm supposed to act as naiive as before - the one damn person who didn't know about what happened.

What irritated me was the fact that it all seemed to have blown over. I arrived the year after it happened, yet I hadn't heard a word of it - Caleb was gone; forgotten - and that was awful to think.

I sighed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand and checking the time - 2:14.

"Fucking hell," I groaned, sitting up in bed. Why was this keeping me up? Why was it bothering me so much? What nerve did I have to stay up mourning somebody who I didn't know - I practically supported them by being their friends for years after.

I stood up, walking over to my dresser. I ran my fingers carefully over the paperback, tapping my nails across it. Harry had persuaded Hugo to let me 'borrow it' from the store, and it didn't take much begging for him to let in. I sat down at my chair, flicking through the pages, desperate to get lost in a world that wasn't this one.
I had a harsh reality to face when I woke up; I couldn't be friends with my group anymore - I wasn't at all okay with what they did, and frankly, the fact they can move on and forget it so easily was sickening in itself.
A sharp thud against my window caused me to spin around quickly in my chair, catching me entirely by surprise. I narrowed my eyes, unsure of what to determine the noise as, and as I prepared to write it off as something picked up by the wind, another thud sounded against the window. I frowned, bending the corner of the page I was on, and closing the book slowly. I stood up from my chair, silently edging my way towards the window. Suddenly, a rock the size of my fist came crashing to the floor of my room, creating a huge hole in the middle of my window with fractures of glass acting as a frame.

I rushed over to the window now, looking down over the ledge - there stood a tall figure gazing back up at me, a look of guilt on his face, framed by his reckless brown curls - his green eyes still pierced into mine despite the distance.

"Harry, what the hell?!" I whisper-shouted, careful not to wake my parents who had arrived home only hours ago - though it was likely the crash through my window woke them up already.

"Fuck!" he whisper-shouted in return, "I didn't realise how heavy that rock was until I threw it!"

"You broke my freaking window!"

"I'm sorry - can I come in, though?"

"You want me to invite you inside after you broke my window?" I joked.

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