Harry Styles Imagines

It was not my fault

Backstory- he blames himself for his (other) sister's death, but he finds out later that all of his self hate and blame were actually never necessary, since the autopsy results had gotten mixed with someone of the same name, and after a whole year been corrected. (I know this isn't exactly very accurate and possible but bear with me)

Story-

I heard some weird noises coming from the living room. It was soon after the doorbell had rang. I peeked onto the living room, only to find Harry breathing heavily, holding a piece of paper in his trembling hands. He was hunched over, looking like he was about to throw up.

"Harry oh god what's wrong?!" I asked, immediately at his side. I realized he needed to catch his breath, so I took away the paper and read it, my hand firmly placed on his shoulder. My eyes widened as I read it.

"Dear Mr. Styles, we apologize profusely for the mix-up. Your sister Diana Styles's autopsy results had been misplaced with another Diana Styles's results." The rest were some statistics or something about her organs, until we finally found the line stating the actual cause of her death.

Harry's breathing had slowed, but his position remained the same. I knew I shouldn't say anything, and just give him some time. I just sat him down next to me, and held his body tight. I looked sadly at the scars on his wrists, all because of the blame he put on himself. And now he found out it wasn't his fault.

I was beside myself with rage. He went through what was the toughest time of his life, and he finds out now that it was avoidable if this tiny slip up never happened! I wanted to strangle something or someone. I wanted justice for what happened to him.

He was shaking all over. I knew what was going through his mind. He had wanted to kill himself because of what he thought had happened to his sister. He wanted to end everything and just give up. I was there with him, and it was painful to see him in such excruciating vulnerability.

He was crying and shaking now, a bit too violently. After about ten minutes he finally whispered something. He whispered it, but never had I heard words filled with such sorrow and regret and hurt. I'll never forget those words. And I still feel his hot breath on me whispering them, "It was not my fault."

A/N- so this was sad. Yikes. But anyway, I really tried to do the cliche angry and upset ones but ik that that's not Harry so instead I'm doing sad ones. Stay tuned for more chapter, although I won't be able to update for a while since I have exams coming up! Make sure to vote, comment and request!