give her love » james potter

26

"I have to break up with Henry," Rachel says during our first breakfast back. "It's the right thing to do."

"Are you sure?"

She nods and takes a bite of her toast. "I read one of my mother's self-improvement on the train ride here. It was absolute bullshit mostly, but there was this one part. It talked about how you can love some people as much as you want but it doesn't mean you should be with them or, more importantly, get to be with them."

"So, you made this decision after reading a self-improvement book," Siobhan tries to confirm, she's been struggling to process the boatload of information we've been dropping on her.

She's not much of a letter person and prefers being told stories and things in person because it feels more personal to her. During Christmas, we only get to meet up three times because she had a busy schedule between hospital visits, Edwin's family insisting she comes to visit every day, and trying to make up for all the time she'd missed with Maggie.

So we'd dedicated the train ride to catching her up, but the thing is the more you talk, the more things you find need to be covered. 

"I think it was more like the final nail in the coffin."

Coffin.

I hate the sound of it. I hate everything it represents and implies. I hate that it manages to make my stomach twist and twist until I stand up and mumble something about having to return a library book.

It's not fair, I think to myself as I leave, it's not fair that little things can have such a big effect on me. 

People like to say you control your life, but the older I get the less true the statement becomes. You can't control the things that happen to you. You can't control how you feel about them. You can't control anything and it's so frustrating.

So when I feel the world start spinning, I let it. I stop walking and let the world spin and spin and spin until I feel everything go dark.

"Picolla," a voice calls out, I know it better than I know my own voice.

I open my eyes and smile, "Mammina," I say, even though I haven't called her that since I was six. "I had the most terrible dream."

Her long dark hair is pulled into its usual braid and today there's more grey coming from her roots, she looks so tired. I want to get up and hug her because it feels like I've spent an eternity without her touch, but my body doesn't want to move. So I continue to lie on the bed and watch her.

I'm in my room and the only light source is my lamp, so my midday nap must've stretched into the night. It's okay though because I'm finally home. So I let my fingers curl around the blanket I've had since forever and I let myself relax.

"I love you," she says leaning to me, so she can brush my hair away from my face. Her hands have no warmth, I almost flinch. "Angelina Elizabeth Pierce, every day I feel so proud of you because you're so brave and strong and kind. You are all the good things that I love about our family and more. I need you to know, mamma is always there for you, even on the days where you feel alone and tired."

"I don't understand," I say.

She starts to cry, then gets out of the bed. "I love you so much."

It's not a dream. Everything was real and she sees my realization and her heart breaks in front of me. I try to move, to grab her hand and never let her go because I can't go back to wherever reality is. 

"Take me," I beg, feeling the tears escape my eyes. "Mammina, please. I can't do it. Just take me with you."

I don't know what happens to people when they die, but I hope it's nice. I hope that my parents, Eli, Rory, and Will, are all together in some afterlife version of our house with all our past pets. I hope nonna and nonno come to visit all the time and that Will finally gets to hear nonna's singing. I hope they're happy because no one else in this world deserves it more than them.

I don't know what happens to people after they die, yet in a heartbeat, I'd try and find out if the afterlife I hope exists.

She's disappearing, her skin grows grey but she's smiling. "I know it's hard, but you're strong enough to keep living. And the life you'll live might have so much loss but it's going to give you so many good things," she says, her voice growing distant. "Accept the good because you deserve it, Picolla."

I shake my head, "Mammina."

Nothing is ever enough, especially time.

I'm not ready to close my eyes and leave wherever I am yet. So I continue to stare at where she was, I replay her words, the way she looked, every single movement because I just want to feel it all again.

But it's pointless. Chasing after lost time and feelings. I know that, but I can't help it. I'm only seventeen, my mum still called me baby, my dad still cut my apples, I'm not old enough to be alone yet. I had the best parents anyone could ever ask for, they were always supportive and filled with so much love that having three siblings never took away from it. 

I had an older brother, a little sister, and a little brother. We'd fight because all siblings fight, but we'd also grown up as best friends because we'd been lucky enough to have that connection between all of us. 

That day in September never stops living. It's a monster of grief and anger that tears me open every day and shreds every part of me until I can't even recognise myself because I'm not who I thought I was.

I'm not the person my family loved anymore.

On September 11th, six people died. One of them still wakes up every day though.

When I wake up, I'm crying. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and the wetness of the pillow, a sob escapes my throat.

Madame Pomfrey rushes towards me, she tells me it's going to be okay and holds my hand. "You just had a terrible case of the flu," she explains, pouring some medicine into a spoon. "It's this new strand, no symptoms at all but horrible effects on the patient. But it's alright, you don't need to worry at all, Madame is gonna make sure you get healthy very soon. Now let's see if this cough syrup will help."

I let her continue to hold my hand as I swallow the syrup. 

I let her tell me how I'm gonna be out of here so soon because she's gonna work very hard to figure out what my immune system needs.

I let her care for me.

I let her fill a void that aches so loud my ears feel like they're ringing and my vision grows blurry.