Delilah Lavigne
When I was little, I used to dream about being a flower. Flowers are beautiful and fragile, they need to be handled with care and anyone who crosses them admires the way they look.
My favorite flower growing up was Irises. I would sit on my desk by my window and look at the field of flowers from my mothers garden. There were so many to look at. But the ones that caught my eye, were Irises.
There are so many colors to choose from. My favorite were the purple and blue ones. Their pedals droop, which resonated with me. They are so beautiful on the outside but they had scars within. That's not the actual meaning for the flowers, but it was mine.
They actually signify courage and admiration. Maybe I gravitated towards them because that's what I always wanted—Courage.
It takes its name from the Greek word for a rainbow, which is also the name for the Greek goddess of the rainbow, Iris.
As I was growing up, I promised myself that I would grow Irises in my garden like my mother. I said I would sit on my deck with a coffee in hand and admire my work. Just like my mother.
She actually gave me the nickname Iris, because I would always draw them and hang them around my room. She knew my love for them was strong so she went as far as to grow them, plant them into a pot and gift it to me to keep on my 8th birthday. I took care of it like it was a pet. When they died, which didn't take a while considering they die fast, I felt guilty for letting such a beautiful thing perish. But then they grew again.
When I die, I want to come back as Irises.
I open my eyes. The brightness of the room I'm in causes me to squint as I scan the unfamiliar ceiling.
A beeping noise comes from beside me, I turn my head slowly to see a monitor. I'm in a hospital.
My hand reaches up to my face and I feel a tube around it—fitting inside my nose.
I look down at my arm and see a bandage around my wrist.
"Hey, you're awake." Harry's deep voice speaks. He sounds like he just woke up. He's leaning onto the bed I'm in by his elbows as he's sat in a chair.
My eyes find his, he has bags under them, "How are you feeling?" He questions with concern.
"I-I feel fine." My voice comes out groggy and scratchy like I haven't spoken in days.
The corners of his lips lift up like he's trying to smile but it's not real, "Good." He nods with his hand on my head—his thumb rubs it like he's trying to comfort me.
"How long have w—" He cuts me off, "Just throughout the night. It's almost 11:00am."
I nod and he stands up, "I'll go get the doctor, let her know you're awake."
My arm reaches up to his to stop him, "Wait," He turns around looking down at me with worry, "Harry, I'm so sorry." My eyes stare up at his green irises and he closes them for a couple seconds before opening them again, "Don't be sorry, baby. It's not your fault."
I drop my arm back by my side and he walks out of the room quietly.
My head drops to the pillow as I stare up at the tiled ceiling, "Ms. Lavigne! I'm glad you're awake." A middle aged woman enters the room in front of Harry with a clipboard in her hand, "I'm Dr. Robinson." She introduces herself.
I smile with my lips in a line as an answer, "You have lost a lot of blood but Mr. Styles stopped the bleeding enough before it got worse. We gave you a first aid antibiotic to prevent infection and bandaged it up but you should expect some grogginess and may feel light headed for the next few hours."
"O-Okay." I don't know what to say. I've only ever been in the hospital twice before this for entirely different reasons.
She walks up beside me and sets her clipboard down on the table, she rests her hand on my arm—rubbing her thumb along it as comfort I assume, "Ms. Lavigne," I cut her off, "Please call me Delilah." I feel like an old woman when people refer to me as Ms.
She smiles and nods, "Delilah, those cuts were very deep. You could have seriously caused damage to yourself. Please take care of yourself sweetheart. I don't want to have to see you in here again for something worse."
"You won't see me again. Thank you for all of your help." I assure and thank her for her kind actions.
"Of course. Well we will get you discharged and you can go home. You two take care of yourselves." She refers to Harry and I and leaves the room.
Harry sits quietly beside the hospital bed, staring at his hands resting on his knees. "Harry." He lifts his head to me, "Talk to me."
"Let's just worry about getting you out of here, yeah?" His voice breaks.
After two hours I finally get discharged from the hospital and I walk to Harry's car with his arm wrapped around my waist.
He helps me get into the car as if I had just gone through a car accident and can't get in myself.
The drive back was silent, I stared out the window the whole time as he focused on driving. I saw him play with his lip a couple times which is what he usually does when he's thinking.
We finally pull into the lot of the house and make it through the door silently. I immediately walk towards the bathroom because I have to pee.
As soon as I open the bathroom door, I'm met with the contents of last night.
I stand still in the doorway just staring at what looks like a crime scene—blood smeared all over the floor and sink. The clothes I'm wearing probably have some on it but it's all black so you can't see.
"I didn't have time to clean it—was with you all night." Harry comes up behind me and stares at it like I am.
I look down at my wrist wrapped in a bandage and roll my eyes at the sight. I'm so fucking stupid.
I walk to the hallway closet and pull out a towel. "What are you doing?" Harry asks.
Without answering I walk past him and into the bathroom. I drop to the floor and lay the towel over it, scrubbing the white tile as hard as I can to get the dried blood out.
"Delilah stop, I can do that." He hovers over me, "I got it." I speak through my clenched teeth. It's not coming out.
He drops to my level and holds my shoulders, "Let me do it."
"I said I got it!" I yell, stopping my movements to glare at him.
He puts his hands up in a surrender, "Okay. Just let me go get some spray for you so it's easier, yeah?"
I shut my eyes and nod.
He comes back in with cleaner and sprays the area while I scrub as hard as I can.
I get as much as I can until my arms grow tired, there's just faint prints of it now.
I sigh and stand up to go wash my hands. Harry just watches me with a cold look in his eyes, "We need to talk now." He says, sounding assertive.
I dry my hands and turn around to face him while leaning on the counter, "I don't know what to say."
"Let's start with why you did what you did." He crosses his arms. I stay leant on the counter with my elbows and sigh deeply, "I don't know, Harry. All I know is that I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that and it's my fault for going so far, I wasn't thinking in the moment."
"I'm so sick of the lying, Delilah." He runs his hands along his face.
"I'm not lying." I force out to sound simple.
"Delilah this whole relationship is based around lies and we both know that."
My eyes narrow in his direction, "No, Harry it's not. For me maybe but not for you and we both know that." I repeat what he said.
He tilts his head, "What do you mean by that?"
"You're the one lying, not me. We all have secrets and don't want them out, whether it's to the world or the people closest to us, so I respect you not wanting to let me in and telling me everything about yourself. So don't push it on me."
"I'm not pushing anything on you! What happened last night was caused by something I should be aware of, don't you think?" His voice comes out fast in irritation.
"Not really no." I shrug.
His lips part, "Wow." He mutters, "So you're saying you aren't lying to me right now? About this, or anything else?"
"Yup." I lift off the counter and cross my arms.
He takes a step forward, "Yeah?" I arch my eyebrows as an answer, "Then who's Amara Baker?"
My stomach drops. "H-How do you know that name?"
"I know she's connected to you in some way and I feel like I have heard her name before, so who is she?"
Where the hell is this coming from?
"An old friend." I answer shortly, hoping he will go back to the first subject at this point.
I'll do anything to avoid talking about her.
He takes a deep breath while running his hand through his hair and turns around to where his back is facing me, "You're lying. Yet again."
"No I'm not." Yes I am.
"I'm done with the dishonesty. If we want to trust each other then we need to tell each other things."
I scoff, "Yeah as if I know so much about you."
Harry sighs impatiently, "Stop going in circles. Who is she?"
I run my tongue along my cheek, "This is unbelievable." I walk away from him and into the bedroom.
"Why is it so hard to just answer?" His voice follows me.
I spin around quickly, "Were you spying on me? Doing research on me?"
"No what I was doing had nothing to do with you. It wasn't even me who found her name."
"So then how do you know about her?" I don't believe him. I tried my damndest to erase her from my life
"Luca, he found something on her when he was doing something for me."
"Which was?"
"I can't tell you yet."
I force out a laugh, "So much for trusting each other right?"
"Delilah please just answer the damn question. Does she have something to do with this? Because according to what I heard, something bad happened between you guys. Did she try to contact you or something?"
"It's kinda hard for a dead person to contact you." His eyebrows furrow with widened eyes.
I walk over to the bed and sit on top of it with a sigh, picking at my fingernails with nerves. I guess I knew this subject would come up at some point I just wish it wasn't now, "I will tell you about her. But before I do so, just promise me that after this we will be honest with each other about everything because this is a story I've never told and will never do it again."
He nods and joins me on the bed, "Of course."
"Remember when we had Calum in the basement of the house he was in? And I was talking to him before—you know," He nods, "Do you remember what he said to me before I did what I did?"
He takes his eyes off mine and looks down like he's trying to think, "It was him, he mentioned her to you."
I look up at the ceiling and breathe heavily, "Yeah, he brought up A-Amara's name." I struggle getting her name out.
"Okay, was he friends with her or something?" He tries to follow along.
I shake my head, "She was my best friend. We did absolutely everything together, she was basically my sister from how much time we spent together. We became friends right before Calum and I got together so she went through my entire relationship with me, all the ups and downs. She was there for me through absolutely everything and I always felt so bad venting to her but she assured me that she was my best friend for a reason," He listens intently as I try to find the right words to explain what happened, "Right after Calum and I broke up for the last and final time, I was very upset. Amara and I were in the car and I was the one driving which wasn't a good idea because I couldn't see through my tears," I stop myself to catch a breath.
He rubs his hand along my thigh, "It's okay, take your time baby."
"It was night time so everything was just dark and blurry for me. One of my tires gave out and I swerved off the road and collided with a light pole very hard. It was so fast and sudden that I couldn't really decipher what had happened. And when I looked over to Amara, s-she," tears fall from my eyes and I swipe them away quickly, "She went through the windshield from the hard impact. Half of her body was in the car and half was out. When I screamed for her and got out to check on her, it was too late. There was so much blood that I could barely even see her face. She had died on impact."
Harry widens his eyes but quickly changes his expression and softens them in sorrow, "I had only gotten whiplash, a few cuts from broken glass and bruises. But Amara was unbuckled because she was trying to comfort me and was turned towards me. She died because of me." I continue.
"No," He shakes his head, "That was not your fault. I remember Calum saying he sabotaged your car, Delilah. That would have never happened if it wasn't for him. He is the reason for her death and your trauma. Not you."
I pinch my eyes shut and put my hands over my face, "I wish I believed that. I just can't."
He leans in and engulfs me in a hug, "I'm so sorry that happened to you, pretty girl."
He pulls away and I shake away my tears to continue explaining, "After she died, I was super depressed. I blamed myself, and still do, for causing her death. I didn't know that Calum had done anything to the car so I felt extreme guilt. Her mother didn't even allow me to go to her funeral because I was the one driving. Word spread that I was the one who basically killed her and I lived in a small town so everyone eventually knew. I think all the shit being said about me got to my head that I started hearing things. Voices in my head."
"Voices?" He questions like he thought he didn't hear it right and I nod, "But it wasn't like I was being paranoid, I mean real voices. And it was Amara's voice."
He arches his eyebrows, "What did she say?"
"I don't think it is actually her anymore, it's just something I created due to the trauma I guess? First it would remind me of how I'm a horrible person and a killer. Then it would tell me to do things. Things to myself. First it started with just pulling my hair out, punching things and destroying things. But then it got worse."
"Worse as in," He looks at my bandaged wrist, "Yes. It would sort of, I don't know, direct me to my bathroom in a way. Then it would say do it. So I did. At first it was little scratches here and there but then it just escalated."
"How long ago did this all start?"
"It all happened when I was seventeen. Once the whole fucking city heard that I was the cause of someone's death I had to get out of there. All of my friends disowned me, anyone associated with me got the wrath of some pretty heavy words and my family went down for it too. They would say things like they raised a killer or some shit and vandalize their house." He sighs and shakes his head, "That is so fucked up."
"I had to get out of there, which is why I left in the middle of the night without saying anything right when I turned eighteen and never looked back. But the voices never stopped. I think I controlled them for a little bit because I went about four months without anything. But they seemed to had come back every time I was sad or stressed. I hate that they make me do things and I swear I'm not crazy or suicidal. I wish they would go away but when they come there's nothing I can really do about it in the moment. And I'm sorry for not telling you but it's not something that comes out easily, no one knows this."
"Don't be sorry, baby. You're telling me now, I'm the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it to you until you were ready to tell me. You didn't deserve any of that. Please don't think it's your fault because it's not, it never was. The person who caused this got what he deserved and he will rot in hell."
I close my eyes in relief and nod, "I know."
"If anything, what happened last night was my fault too." He mutters.
I open my eyes and snap them straight to his, "Why would you say that? You didn't know, Harry."
He shakes his head and looks to the ground, "But I did."
I furrow my eyebrows, "I'm confused."
"Delilah, I saw them. The first night you stayed here, I could tell you were crying but I didn't say anything because quite frankly I was an asshole. But when you fell asleep, I saw your arm. I pretended I didn't because I thought that if you wanted to talk then you would which was a dick move. I shouldn't have waited, I should have mentioned it and gotten you help." His voice breaks.
I wrap my arm around his shoulders, "No, do not blame yourself for my actions. If you would have said something I probably would've gotten defensive like the bitch I am." I laugh and he chuckles, "I should have came to you. I was just scared and a little embarrassed for anyone to find out. Last night went farther than I intended. It usually just gives me relief and once I do it, everything in my life feels better, as fucked up as it sounds. But last night was clearly different. All I felt after was pain and guilt."
He turns his head toward me with sadness covering his entire face, "Please just promise me that if you ever feel like doing it again, or the voices come back, that you will talk to me so I can help you. Deal?"
I nod with a slight smile, "I promise."
He holds his pinky up to me, "What are you five?" I laugh.
He grins, "A pinky promise, or else it won't count." I roll my eyes playfully and wrap my pinky around his.
He nods his head over to the pillows, "Come on, let me hold you and let's just sleep the day away."
We get situated into our usual position and not long after, he dozes off. But I can't shut my mind off.
He only asked about her to prove a point but had no idea she really was connected to this.
I have never told that story to anyone before, I didn't trust anyone enough with that information. Mainly because it weighed heavily on me every day and reliving it by talking about it would just make it worse but also because I didn't want them to look at me differently.
But Harry's different. I think I can trust him now. And I never thought I would get to do that with anyone.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
delilah needs a damn break jesus christ
rip amara i'm sure you would have been a great character, fuck you calum
anyways i promise we are going back to happy chapters and more action between harry and delilah soon (if u know what i mean) *wink wink*