Hello loves :)
I'm here to bring you another update. I just got back from my vacation today....Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Colorado. I just have one thing to say- I have no idea how you guys handle all of that heat! It's awful!
Anyway, this chapter is going to be in 3rd person point of view, so I hope it doesn't confuse you that much.
Read Happy :)
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3rd person P.O.V.
Louis stepped out of the taxi. He felt the rain patter against his soft cheeks, but paid no attention to it. He was completely soaked already so he almost didn't care. And besides, it didn't matter to him. The only thing that mattered to him at this point in his life was Harry, and if Harry wasn't okay, then neither was he.
Louis had been thankful to find a taxi, just driving by the down town area, and just plain lucky that the driver could understand what hospital that he was talking about in his rambling on stage about his friend, Harry, and what had happened to him.
In the few minutes that Louis had been in the car with the driver, he had managed to tell him about his whole life connection with Harry, beginning at the first X Factor camp to getting the call that his best friend was in the hospital. He had told the driver everything. Everything about Harry's anorexia and cutting and to how Haz had been acting weird before now, to how he almost hurt Harry in the bathroom just a few hours before hand.
Louis just needed someone to talk to. He needed someone who would listen to what he had to say and who wouldn't judge him for everything stupid that he had done. He needed someone who would say that Harry would somehow find the strength to forgive him for everything that he had done. The driver did his best to comfort Louis but some how in the end, it just made him feel even more guilty than he had before.
So, when Louis stepped out side into the pouring rain, he felt even worse than he already did. His heart ached from all of the stress that he was under and he felt so utterly humiliated by telling his newly found driver friend about almost every mistake that he had ever made in his entire life.
Shamed, he covered his head and handed the driver twice the amount that he should have because he felt guilty that the man had to hear all of his and Harry's problems in the short drive that it took to get to the hospital.
After paying the cab driver, Louis almost ran up the steps to get into the hospital. He flew through the sliding doors almost as if he was in the Olympics and the prize was hundreds of pounds in gold. The fact was, though, that Louis was fighting for a prize. And the prize was seeing Harry again, and having their friend ship that he so longed for back.
It took Louis almost five minutes to find the front desk because, one he wasn't thinking straight with all the stress about Harry flooding through his brain, and two because he became easily distracted by fans and pap asking him what he was doing here, and what had happened. The fact was though that Louis didn't know the answer to some of the questions himself. Sure, he knew he was here because Harry was here, but he didn't know why or what for. All Liam had told him on the phone was that he had to come see for himself, and that got Louis very worried. He had come straight to the hospital with out hesitation, knowing that every second that he wasted could be a second he would never get to see his little curly haired friend again.
"Hello ma' am." Louis stated talking to the front desk woman, arranging his wet tousled hair so it looked a little more presentable, and arranging his composure in such a manner where people would not since that he was going insane thinking about his best friend.
Louis took a deep breath and continued. "I was wonder which room Harry Edward Styles would be in?" She looked at Louis, squinting her eyes and shifting her eye brows in such a way that it made Louis get anxious. "Who exactly are you?" She questioned. Louis felt a lump grow in this throat. He stayed calm as he replied. "Louis Tomlinson. I'm Harry's best friend and his band mate."
Her plump checks rose in realization from what I had just said and a smile grew on her red lips. "Oh! That's who you are! Well, I'm actually not suppose to let anyone in that room at the moment, but since you see like you are a cheeky lad, the room number is 317 and it is on the third floor. "
Louis silently thanked her, and grazed his way to find the elevator. That woman had been strange, and he was glad to get away from her obnoxious presence.
He was quite thankful as he had the elevator all to himself. He found it nice and quiet, and he thought it was a good place to put all of his thoughts together.
He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling at the moment, but it wasn't a good feeling- that was for sure. He had an ever growing pit in the bottom of his stomach, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get rid of it. He just knew that something bad had happened.
The second the elevator door opened, he dashed out of the door and ran into something, or someone. It was Liam. And, the last time that he had seen Liam was when Liam was telling him that he should leave because he had left Harry a crying mess on the floor.
That Liam had been mad and angry, but this Liam seemed sad. He had tear marks down his red cheeks and his eyes were puffy. Around him was almost this depressing aroma, and Louis just wanted to run away from the emotional lad and find Niall. Niall was always so cheerful, and Louis knew that he could cheer up anyone's day.
Liam tried to speak to Louis but his words only got jumbled. "Lou, I..I..you s..shouldn't g...ggo in there." Louis just gave him a strange look, almost as if you would if you caught someone who was high, and dashed past him. He didn't seem to notice any of his surroundings around him. Not Niall, not Zayn, not anything.
The anxiety inside him was beating to the tune of his heart, and as he reached the room, he felt as though he might make him self sick, just from all of the stress that was being shoved through his delicate frame.
Louis walked through the doorway, and immediately a weird smell reached his nose. It smelt almost as if some one was trying to make the room more inviting with an air freshener, but failed miserably. It made Louis some what uneasy and he closed his eyes to regain his composition.
Louis didn't see Harry at first, but after walking around the room aimlessly, his eyes laid onto a bed that was seemingly lifeless. His breath hitched into the back of his throat, as his eyes fought the tears that seemed inevitable.
To the normal on looker, Harry looked like a small child who was peacefully sleeping. To Louis, Harry looked almost dead.
Harry always had a way of softly smiling in his sleep. His dimples would always show when he was dreaming and that was something about him that Louis loved. He loved how Harry could always look so perfect, even when he wasn't trying to.
Harry looked perfect, even now. His curls were draped around his dedicate head, and his arms were softly folded across his chest. He seemed peaceful as he laid there, but he definitely didn't look happy like he would when he would sleep.
That thought got Louis sprinting towards the bed, holding back silent tears as they streamed down his face. He took one of Harry's cold hands into his own and began to stroke the back of it. It limply complied.
Louis set down Harry's hand and looked at his face. It was perfect. Harry somehow managed to look like an angel, even in his white hospital gown.
Harry didn't have any cords connected to his arms which made Louis uneasy. Wern't hospital patients always suppose to have those to check vitals? He knew that much with his mother being a nurse.
Absent mindedly, he took Harry's arm and flipped it over, hoping to find something that would show his vitals, but he only found two things- his hospital band, and scars. Louis shook as he traced his finger on the imprints of Harry's wrist. It felt weird. Touching all the emotions that Harry had taken out on himself. He almost felt like he could feel what Harry had been feeling when he caused them. Almost.
Louis eyes trailed down to the bracelet. There was something off about it.
The normal color for hospital bands was blue, but this one was yellow. Louis let his eyes read over the words.
Name: Harry Edward Styles
Date of Birth: Born February 1, 1994
Blood Type: Type A + blood
Date of Death: June 16, 2013
And those were the words that made the young Doncaster lad freeze. Harry was........dead? How? When? Why?
Guilt rushed over him. It had been his fault- he was sure of it. If he hadn't yelled at the poor lad. If he had told some one about Harry's problem. If he had noticed the signs, could have he saved him? The blame game was endless.
Louis collapsed to the floor. He was completely broken and he was positive that there was no way that anyone could save him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to yell. He wanted to do anything that would get his best friend back.
He couldn't live without Harry, he couldn't. He couldn't live without his cheeky smile and button nose. Without being woken up to Harry dumping cold water on his face, he just couldn't. He couldn't live without the little things that Harry would always do to brighten up his day.
And that is why Louis broken down. Because he missed his best friend so much, it hurt him.
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In the beginning, my plan was never to kill Harry, I swear. But, after my friend died a month ago, I felt that could vent my feelings about her being dead, into my story. I'm sorry for all of you who loved Harry. The story is not over yet. I still have probably 5 chapters to do.
The next chapter is going to tell all of you anticipating folks what actually happened in America, and how Harry developed his eating disorder and self harm.
So, I would really like to know what you all thought on this. Vote, comment, and message me if you want to :)
Love you all!