Hidden (Harry Styles fan fiction)

Chapter 26

Harry's POV

My fingers on the trigger but I wait. The cold breeze harsh on my face, making my nose run. The darkness only adding to the silence around me. I look away from the scope and reposition myself more comfortably on my stomach, my elbows ache from staying in the same position for hours . My target moves. I watch his slow movements, waiting for the perfect moment. I load my snipper and take a deep breath, my trigger finger squeezes. The silencer keeps the echo clean, along with my shot.

He has collapsed and everyone is in panic. I stand and pick up my gun, already running to my car. The moment I'm in I'm already driving off, speeding in a deathly speed. I know the cars are behind me before I see them. I smile, one without real joy. I let them have a chase, toying around. I crash into obstacles to throw at them laughing at their failure. They don't get far before I make a U turn and pull out towards the side. I hear the crash but don't look back. I slow to a cruise and make my way down the empty road. I sigh. The repetition starts again.

Kylie's POV

It's been four months. And one question comes to mind. Can you cry too many tears? To the point where you don't even cry anymore, you just feel yourself break but there's nothing you can do so you just don't. Every night I wake up breathless drenched in sweat choking on my tears, and every night Jesse comes. Every morning after Jesse leaves Olivia comes to make me breakfast I always throw back up. I'm falling apart. But only half of it is my broken heart. Something is wrong with me. I've lost another ten pounds, and my jeans don't fit.

I can't take the milk jug off the fridge shelf without my arm giving in because of the heavy weight. I've sprained it three months in a row, just by trying to lift my backpack or to sit up. I avoid the mirrors now, my reflection makes me flinch. Jesse thinks it has to do with him, but I know it's something else. I'm forgetting my memories. I don't know how I went to sleep yesterday or why I woke up on the couch today. I keep finding notes. Almost reminders, where I find things I don't understand. Like 'look under the bed' and there's my phone with no messages at all, all history wiped. Or 'No sleep' under my pillow.

The worst one was 'Find him' on the sweater he gave me to keep that I still haven't touched since he left. The strangest part is that it's all in my handwriting, I wrote it! But I don't remember! I haven't told anyone, not yet. Because if I wrote those things, I meant it to keep to myself; to keep reminding myself about something.

Snow is falling, and I feel like something should be happening. I wait for Jesse down stairs and he takes me to school, where he pretends to be him. The day goes on and I drag myself to each class where everyone stares and whispers, except one "Hey Kylie, how have you been" I slump into my seat with a sigh "I totally get you" I crack a smile, and so does he "Nate, do you ever have a bad day?" He smiles more "Every single day" we high five, the class starts.

We don't really pay attention to the teacher, mostly just play tic tac toe, he always lets me win. It's this period I like the most, Nate always makes me smile. At the end of class he messes up my hair and waves goodbye. I sigh again as I wave, everyday he does the same thing. Something about it always has me biting my lip in question, like if i think hard enough I could remember. I walk to Spanish and on the way I stop by my locker. After a good couple of tugs it opens with a whine.

On the inside of my locker are three sticky notes in my hand writing. I stare in puzzlement and read the one in the center 'Library maple st. 41088 psychopath' I pull it off and put it in my pocket. The next reads '10 pm' It's in purple ink, the first one is in pencil. The last is on a blue sticky note in black ink 'FIND HIM'. That one I rip in half but still stuff in my pocket. The tardy bell rings and I rush to class with my pocket full.