Over Again

Chapter 1 - Plea

"Okay. Be safe!"

I went out of our house and entered the car dad gave me as a gift on my 16th birthday. I started the engine and drove to a certain old place, reminiscing the memories. Not exactly reminisce though. You'll get what I mean.

-- Flashback: 8 years old. --

"Mom!" I called.

"Yes?"

"Harry and I will go to the park with Gemma."

"Ok. Be back at 4! Your dad and I will be going to your Aunt Millicent. If we are not yet here when you return, you stay at the Styles' house first, okay?"

"Ok! Bye mom! Bye Dad!" I went out of the house, to see my bestfriend and his older sister waiting for me. I greeted them with a smile.

"Hi Haz! Hi Gemma!"

"Hey Cola!" Harry greeted me. He calls me Cola. Since my name is niCOLA. And sometimes people call me Nicole. Y'know, It's not quite nice to be called a drink.

"Let's go." Gemma smiled. The three of us held hands, and Harry was in the middle. So its Gemma on the left, Harry, then me. We walked to the park that's not that far. And when we arrived, Gemma sat on one of the benches and Harry and I decided to play on our favourite swing. Its was always me on the swing and Harry was the one who always swings me.

"When it will be my turn on the swing and you swing me?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

"When I'm 18. or even 45 years old." I joked. 

Harry sighed. "I wish we can grow old together."

I smiled. "Wait, stop."

"What?"

"Stop swinging me." I giggled.

"Uh.. Why?" I turned to face him to see a little frown on his face.

"Nothing. Just stop swinging me. This will be only for a while."

"Uh.. Okay?" Harry said, confused. He stopped pushing the swing and I went down.

Surely, other people would classify this as cheesy cliche movie-like moments. But the essence was what's important to me, so I held my pinky finger up. "Pinky promise? We'll be bestfriends 'til we grow old?"

Harry smiled and held his pinky finger up too and we entwined our slender fingers. "Pinky promise!"

I hugged him and he hugged back. I like hugging him. I feel safe, I feel like I'm resting on puffy clouds, I feel... something. Something like home.

"I love you Hazza."

"I love you too Nicole."

"Let's go to Gemma. I'm hungry."

Harry laughed. "Hmm.. Okay."

We broke from the hug and went to Gemma, to see her talking to someone on the phone with a worried expression on her face.

"Oh. Okay. We're coming. Bye." She said and ended the call.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked. "We need to go now?"

"Yes. Come on. We need to hurry."

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

 

 

-

 

 

Why are we in the hospital, Gemma?" I asked.

 

 

"Uh... Your parents."

 

 

"What happened to my mom and dad?"

 

 

"They were.." Gemma gulped.

 

 

"What happened?"

 

 

"They.. They got into a car accident."

 

 

"What?" I said, surprised. My brain failed to quickly sink in that information, and it was dead quiet for a few minutes until I felt my tears threatening to fall.

 

 

"I'm so sorry, Nicole." Gemma gave me a hug and Harry just stood there, watching us, not knowing what to do. Maybe he is also surprised of what happened.

 

 

"They got into a car accident?" I repeated, my voice shaky. Gemma slowly nodded and I finally felt a tear slide down my left cheek. "Will they.. be fine?" 

 

 

"They're gone, Nicole."

 

 

"Gone.. Gone? What do you mean 'gone'? Mommy and Daddy won't leave me! NO! Mom.. Dad.." I cried harder and covered my face with my small hands. What will happen to me now? Why did Mom and Dad leave me? Who did this to them? 

 

 

"Nicola.." Harry said.

 

 

"No. NO! Gemma's lying! Right, Harry? Right? RIGHT?" I yelled. I didn't want to beleive this. I never expected this. I never expected I'll lose my parents at an early age. 

 

 

"I'm... I'm sorry."

~

Then my aunt adopted me. Harry and his family moved somewhere. Later, my aunt also died. Which ended with me at the orphanage. And here I am, with my new parents. From 'Nicola Roberts' my name changed to 'Zara Ainsworth'.

All those memories, and that promise. That promise that was broken. I hate him for that. But honestly, I've never moved on. That promise, whenever I remember it, breaks my heart. I remember it almost everytime. When I see his face at magazines, television, and what's worse, in our house. Geez, thanks for my lovely sister for telling me to move on, when she exposes his face to wherever space she's available to occupy. Helps a lot.

But.. I miss Harry. It's just.. I don't know. Maybe I'm not ready to see him, yet? Or maybe I'm scared of the answer on the thing I'm worrying about right now.

Will he remember me?